Beads of Doubt (22 page)

I was also curious about the accident that killed the Yancys’ grandson, Donovan. Who else was in the car? Who was driving, and who were the other people involved?

If we could get that, we could cross-check the names with Andrew’s clients, assuming, of course, that we could find out who his clients were, and we could match it with the guest list. Lots of
ifs
and
coulds
in there, and that didn’t take into account the poker players I might meet that evening.

There was something else tucked away in the back of my brain, and it chose that moment to surface. Bruce had said that Andrew needed killing, and I had to wonder why and how those two knew each other.

I stopped at a drugstore and put my cell phone earplug in. It annoys me when other people have private conversations on the phone while they’re out in public, but I didn’t intend to do the talking. At least not much talking. I was just going to ask questions.

By the time I was walking through the automatic doors, I could hear ringing on the other end, and then Bruce answered. “Yo.”

“Yo, yo-self,” I said. “I have two quick questions for you. Do you have time to answer?”

“Is this a marketing survey?”

“No, this is Kitzi.” I headed toward the candy aisle and started looking for Tess’s favorite kind. “Do you have time?”

“I guess. What’s up?”

“How did you know Andrew Lynch?”

“When my sister was sick we met at the Relay for Life. She and I were walking, and he was with a client who had some other kind of cancer. He wasn’t walking; he’d just donated some money.”

“Did you invest with him?”

“Some.”

I was looking up and down the shelves. “Is that when he started talking about investing money, at the Relay for Life?” I asked.

“You knew Andrew—what do you think?”

“That was the day.” I found them: Red Vines licorice. Tess used to chomp her way through a bag a week when the pressure was on. “What did he put your money into?”

“Do you have a license to ask these kinds of questions?”

“Nope. Do I need one?” Now I was heading toward hair products. “Are you going to tell me?” I swear that what I was looking for just jumped off the shelf and into my hand. I couldn’t help grinning when I thought of what Beth’s reaction was going to be. “Well?” I asked Bruce. “Where did he invest your money?”

“A yacht. It was at a great price because the government was auctioning it. We knew going in that a lot of work had to be done on it.”

“It wasn’t by any chance named the
High Jinx?
” I asked. I was already at the counter, taking out my debit card.

“Yeah. Why? Did you invest in it, too?”

“No, but from the way you talk, right about now it might be for sale cheap.” I ran my card through the payment machine. “How much of your money was in it?”

“That’s pretty damn personal, don’t you think?”

“Okay, then I’ll break it down into categories: (A) just a little, (B) a whole lot, or (C) probably more than you should have put in.”

“All of the above.”

I picked up the sack with the things I’d bought, smiled at the young cashier, and started for the door. “That’s all I needed to know, Bruce. It’s always a joy talking to you.”

 

It was still sunny by the time I got to the hospital, but
it was late afternoon and I had a lot to do. I would have to keep the visit short.

Upstairs I tiptoed into Tess’s room and discovered that she had a roommate. A woman who looked to be somewhere in her late seventies was sleeping, and snoring, in the bed next to the door. There was an IV going into her left wrist, and her right hand seemed to be twitching. She must have been sick for sometime because her hair was completely flat on one side, with light brown, matted curls on the other. There was also a good inch and a half of gray roots at the scalp.

I supposed that in the list of indignities that came with illness, that was a minor one, but still, it was obvious that she cared about her appearance and hadn’t been able to do anything about it of late.

The curtain between the two beds was pulled closed, and I kept on going, practically tiptoeing around it. On the other side was a wheelchair. Had Tess been too weak to walk on her own?

Tess was lying in the bed, staring out the window. A magazine was spread open on her chest, as if the view outside was better than anything inside. Or maybe she was sleeping. I kept going around the bed until I could see her face. She was awake, and she smiled when she saw me.

“Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” I said. “Look at you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t like to, thank you very much.” She ran her hand over her short hair. “I’m graying, aging, and belching. None of that is good.”

I laughed. “Well, on you it’s all good.” Her skin had color today, and the waxy sheen was gone. Her eyes were brighter, too. “Obviously the transfusion helped. You seem so much better.”

“If this is an improvement, I don’t even want to know what I looked like when I came in here.”

“Dull and boring,” I said, handing her the sack of candy. “These ought to perk you up.” I sat in a chair and took a good look at her. She really did appear better. Thank God for things like doctors, hospitals, and blood transfusions.

“Red Vines?” She poked a fingernail through the plastic and brought the sack close to her face. “Even the smell is wonderful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Soft, squishy footsteps entered the room, and someone who had a professionally cheerful voice spoke to the woman on the other side of the curtain.

Luckily the woman couldn’t see us, because Tess and I were openly listening, and I was making faces. I leaned forward and whispered to Tess, “When did she get here?”

“Last night,” she said softly. “She’s been asking for the window ever since.”

“Oops. I guess that’s my fault. I’m the one who got you moved.”

“I told the nurse I’d switch, but they said that it was too much trouble now that both of us were here. Something about phones and records.”

We couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation:

We heard the nurse leave the room.

“Has she been like this all day?” I asked, and Tess nodded. “Oh, brother,” I said quietly. “So, other than that, how are you feeling?”

“Better. You know. Still not too perky, but a lot better than I was.”

“Have they done any tests?”

Tess curled a lip. “I spent half the day with someone either asking me questions or poking at me. Now I know how those presidential appointees feel after Congress gets done with them.”

“Have they figured out anything to do for you?”

“Still no treatment plan,” she said. “First I’ll finish the tests, then they—and I don’t know who
they
is—will get the results and consult with some other doctors, so they can come up with a plan.”

“I want to know when you get some results. And what they are going to do for you.”

“Yes, senator.”

“Good. Have you called Melissa?” Melissa is her twenty-five-year-old daughter. A beautiful young woman, bright, and a lot like my son Will. Too busy to take time for parents. “When is she flying in? It won’t be any trouble for me to pick her up at the airport.”

“I’m not quite sure. How is the tea going?”

“Wait just a minute. What do you mean, you’re not sure? Have you called her, or what?”

Tess took her time, raising her bed and pulling her tray closer so she could sit up and sip some juice through a straw. “I must need the vitamins—this juice tastes wonderful.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Have you called her? Does she know you’re in the hospital?”

“Kitzi, I’m old enough to run my own life. I called her, we talked, and she probably won’t be coming out here.”

“Well, now, that’s devotion for you. Except,” I said, “did you say you were really sick?”

“I’ll be fine in a week or so.”

“Just because you’ll get better doesn’t preclude you from being really sick now. I’ll bet you told her not to come. In fact, I’d put fifty dollars on it.”

She leaned back against her pillow. “Save your money. I told her not to come.”

“Did you need something?”
We heard a different voice, but still professional, addressing Tess’s roommate.

I whispered again. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Something on her lungs and something else, but I haven’t heard what.”

In a normal voice, I asked, “So who is taking care of Rafferty?” Her seventy-pound Airedale might be an exceptionally clever boy, but he certainly couldn’t be living alone.

“Marie next door is taking him for walks and feeding him. She really likes him, but her yard isn’t fenced, so she can’t have a dog. This way, she has mine, at least temporarily.” She reached for her juice again, but it took more effort this time. “Tell me about the Tea. How did today go?”

I gave her a quick overview, and she was pleased to hear about the high attendance and how much the vendors had been selling. Then I told her about Andrew, whom she’d only met once. I’d kept it from her yesterday, but now I had enough distance to talk about it without emotion. I also mentioned that Houston had almost landed in jail.

“Too bad they didn’t keep him,” she said.

“Isn’t that the truth? Except my mother and my aunt Miranda were very upset, so I had to ask the police to let him go. Oh, and guess what I did then?” I told her about Lauren and getting the computers linked up, as well as our excursion to Houston’s office. I was careful not to let anything slip about Houston’s bid to takeover the Manse. Tess would worry about it, and she didn’t need worry—she needed rest and a little entertainment.

When I finished she looked tired, but she was smiling. “Too bad I’m stuck here.”

“If you’d just get well, you could help me.” I looked at my watch. “I better go. I have some things I need to do tonight.”

My hand was resting on the edge of her bed, and she reached out to hold it. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

If it would make her feel better, I’d miss poker, dinner, and a night’s sleep. “Sure, no problem,” I said.

“Tell me your plans for tonight.”

I started in about poker, making it as amusing as possible.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll call right away.”
The footsteps almost raced out of the room.

I had done my best to talk over the woman and the nurse, but I kept losing my train of thought because it was so hard not to listen to their conversation.

“Wait,” Tess said. “You’re playing in a poker tournament? That’s illegal.”

“It’s just a fun tournament,” I said to her. “There’s no money involved.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

Tess turned on her TV and aimed the bed speaker toward her roommate. Then she rolled closer to me, saying softly, “There.” She was fading, and I wished I’d insisted on leaving earlier.

“You look tired,” I said.

“Forget that. Kitzi, you could be arrested.”

I kept my voice down. “Maybe. How else can I find out anything about Andrew’s life?”

“And people will recognize you. Everyone does.”

“I have a plan,” I said, leaning over and whispering it in her ear.

She listened, and when I was finished there was a half smile on her face. “I’ve got to get well to protect you from yourself.”

“You pick any reason—just get better,” I said. “Now you need to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”