Claire was surprised to see the color drain out of Sophie’s face, and her mouth narrow into a tight frown. She shook her head.
“Keep your voice down,” Sophie said, looking around. “I don’t want to remind her I’m alive, let alone find out I was talking about her behind her back.”
“What did she do?” Claire whispered.
“Not here,” Sophie said.
She gathered up the remains of her lunch and dumped them in the nearest garbage can. She took off toward the parking lot and it was all Claire could do to keep up with her. She finally stopped at the side of a vintage pickup truck, painted deep, shiny green. She got in on the driver’s side and gestured for Claire to get in on the other side.
After the doors were closed, she gripped the steering wheel and took some deep breaths.
“That bad, huh?” Claire said.
Sophie fixed Claire with a stern stare.
“I don’t know you from Adam,” she said. “Candace and I were good friends before Jillian put an end to it, and I can’t afford any gossip about me to get back to her from any direction.”
“I understand,” Claire said. “I just want to know why Jillian is trying to frame my friend.”
“What does he have that she wants?”
“Money, I guess,” Claire said. “A big house that her husband would inherit if Eugene goes to jail.”
“I know Eugene,” Sophie said. “Is this about Gigi’s death?”
Claire told her all she knew.
“I’m willing to help you know Jillian better,” she said. “But only because you’re helping Eugene. But please, please, please, don’t let anything I say blow back on me.”
“I won’t mention you,” Claire said. “I promise.”
“I was engaged to Chip,” Sophie said. “We met at the hospital when he was just starting out in the IT department and I was still in pediatrics. He wooed me over terrible coffee in the cafeteria. He was working really hard, trying to prove that it wasn’t just nepotism that got him his job, but he was overshadowed by his uncle, who wanted him to be important and successful. Chip was just a sweet, honest guy who’d been raised in a terribly abusive home. His mother was a mean alcoholic, and his father is the lowest scum of the Earth; he used to say the vilest things to me every time Chip left the room. It gives me the chills just thinking about it.”
“I’ve met Cheat, and he’s a sleaze ball,” Claire said. “Amazing such a nice guy could come from such a terrible family.”
“That was all Gigi. She rescued him. His mother died in a car accident and Gigi took him in. She adored him. She and Eugene Senior lay the world at his feet; wherever he wanted to go to school, they would pay for it. They bought him a car and a house to live in while he went to college; anything he wanted. They treated him like a son.”
“The one they thought they were owed, apparently.”
“Chip was never mean to Eugene; he treated him like a brother. They were close the whole time I knew him. Eugene was supposed to be the best man at our wedding.”
“What happened?”
“Jillian happened,” Sophie said. “She started in pediatrics right after I left to go to the NICU; she took my old position. She hated being compared to me. That crew was like my family, and it was hard to step into my shoes; I’d been there for ten years at that point. She was always fake sweet to me; do you know what I mean?”
“I do.”
“Someone who had worked with her before even warned me about her, said she was let go from her previous job because she liked to stir up the drama so much. I didn’t give her a second thought. Then she decided she wanted my job and my man, and she didn’t stop until she had both.”
“What did she do?”
“It was subtle at first. She told people I was rude to her, that I was spreading rumors about her. No one who knew me well believed it, but a hospital is like a small city; there were lots of people there who didn’t know me, who did believe her. I even got called into Human Resources to address this issue I didn’t know I had. She had accused me of bullying her, and they take that very seriously. I said I didn’t know what she was talking about, but there the accusation went, into my file in HR. I had my previous and current supervisor vouch for me, but that only riled her up.
“She slit my tires. There’s barely an inch of parking lot around that place that isn’t covered by video cameras, but I was dumb enough to park in an area that was not monitored. She’d followed me out into the parking lot the night before and threatened me. It was my word against hers, but nobody could believe she was that crazy.”
“What happened?”
“Chip reviewed the video coverage from that night, and even he didn’t believe she did it. I got written up, and was advised not to get within ten feet of her. That’s hard to do when you work in the same place. I started feeling isolated and paranoid, and withdrew from people.”
“What did she say to you that night in the parking lot?”
“She said that Chip had been seeing her behind my back, and that he was working up the nerve to break up with me to be with her.”
“Was that true?”
“He said it wasn’t true, but it was the thin end of the wedge she’d driven between us. The more things she did to me the more paranoid I became, and to Chip, she became more sympathetic.”
“What else did she do?”
“She was trying to get me fired, so any rule violation she thought she could pin on me, she did. Through gossip, she accused me of accessing patients’ confidential information, and of sharing that information. She told parents of patients on the pediatrics floor that I was suspected of neglecting the patients, that they shouldn’t leave me alone with their children. It went on and on.”
“And no one ever believed you?”
“It was just too far out there, you know? No one wanted to believe this sweet little nurse in pediatrics would do such a thing. It was more likely I was the crazy one, and I soon looked like it. I couldn’t eat or sleep, so I got really thin and had dark circles under my eyes. Eventually it started to affect my work. When I realized I couldn’t give one hundred percent to the babies in the NICU, I resigned.”
“Did it stop, then?”
“She came to my apartment one night when Chip was at a seminar out of town. She spray-painted “child-killer” on my garage door.”
“That’s horrible.”
“I know. Luckily my next-door neighbor caught her doing it and called the police. He and I went to the police station and I told them the whole story. Finally, someone believed me. I agreed not to press charges if she stayed away from me. I swore out a restraining order that still stands today. She isn’t allowed within 100 yards of me; no contact in any way.”
“That’s awful,” Claire said. “Surely, then Chip believed you.”
“Unfortunately not. Jillian told him I wrote the message on my own garage door and got the neighbor to back me up because I was screwing him behind Chip’s back.”
“Why would he fall for that?”
“She’d been manipulating him full time now that I wasn’t working at the hospital. He said she showed him evidence that I was sleeping with this guy, had cheated with a bunch of guys. He was gullible, I guess, or blind in some way, when it came to her. When he came back from out of town, he broke up with me, we called off the wedding, and I don’t think we’ve spoken more than one or two times since.”
“That’s a horrifying story.”
“So, you see why, when someone comes and asks me about Jillian, I would rather pull my own teeth out through my nose.”
“I can see why,” Claire said. “And now she’s after Eugene’s money.”
“Jillian does have a weakness,” Sophie said.
“What is that?”
“She’s a classic narcissist,” Sophie said. “Textbook case.”
“Having worked in Hollywood, I’m very familiar with the type.”
“They need to feel important and admired at all
times by everybody.”
“Which is not feasible in the real world.”
“And if they don’t get the attention or respect or material things they feel they are due, it has to be someone else’s fault.”
“And that person must be punished.”
“Poor Eugene,” Sophie said. “Because I also think she’s a sociopath.”
“What’s her Achilles heel?”
“Control,” Sophie said. “Control of Chip, her son, and her social position.”
“How can I use that to help Eugene?”
“If she has a choice between Eugene’s money and control of everything else in her life, she will choose control.”
“If she doesn’t kill us all first.”
Claire’s phone rang.
“Sorry,” Claire said. “It’s my mom.”
“Go ahead,” Sophie said.
Her mother said there was a certified letter waiting for her.
“Go ahead and open it,” Claire said.
It instructed her to contact an attorney, Walter Graham, the same one she had met at Gigi’s home.
After Claire ended the call, she told Sophie what the call was about.
“His office is not too far from here,” Sophie said. “Go ahead and call; I don’t mind.”
Claire called him and set up an appointment for the following morning.
“Can you tell me what this is about?” she asked him.
“You already know what it’s about,” he said. “You signed all the paperwork in front of me the day Gigi died. I bet you never thought that day would come so soon.”
“I guess not,” Claire said, confused.
After she hung up, Sophie asked what that was about.
“I witnessed Gigi’s signature on some documents before she died,” she said. “I guess I have to go to the lawyer’s office to verify my signature or something. I don’t know. No big deal.”
“What in the hell?” Claire asked Mr. Graham the next morning, after being informed exactly how big of a deal it actually was.
“I asked you if you understood before you signed,” the attorney said, in an irritated tone. “She said she had discussed it with you at length.”
“She wanted me to marry him, and I declined,” Claire said. “I thought I was just witnessing her signature.”
“Well, unless you want to back out now, which would be a huge headache for me, by the way, you are now more or less in charge of Eugene and his fortune.”
“Doesn’t Eugene get a say in this?”
“He signed as well.”
“But this is crazy!”
“Listen, Claire, just take some time to get used to the idea,” he said. “I’ll help you with the legal aspect, and Gigi’s broker and accountant do the financial management. If you decline this, it opens the door for Chip and Jillian to get him declared incompetent and take control.”
Control.
The thing Jillian wanted more than anything, and Claire had it.
“I’ll do it,” Claire said. “But only to protect Eugene, and only if you can protect me from Jillian.”
“I’ve met Jillian,” he said. “She’s a social climber and kind of tactless, but essentially harmless.”
Claire told him the story Sophie had told her. He made some notes on a pad.
“You’re my attorney now and that was privileged,” she said. “If Jillian finds out Sophie told me about her who knows what she’ll do.”
“I’m just going to verify a few things, discretely,” he said. “Jillian’s been calling my office every hour since Gigi died, and I’ve been ignoring her calls.”
“As soon as she knows I’m in charge, I’m done for,” Claire said.
“I’ll work on that. We can appoint several successor custodians; she can’t eliminate everyone.”
“That doesn’t comfort me, Walter.”
“Leave it to me. We Irish must stick together. Meanwhile, we need to form a plan for when Eugene gets out of the hospital, and arrange for Gigi’s funeral. I have her preferences here in her file, and I’ve made an appointment this afternoon at the funeral home in Rose Hill. I’ll take you to lunch first.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“You’re from Hollywood, Claire. It’s like one of those movies where a relative dies and you suddenly get their little kid,” he said.
“Only he’s forty years old,” Claire said. “And somebody may be willing to kill him and me for his money.”
Claire warmed to Walter over lunch, where he regaled her with tales of crazy clients past, and she reciprocated with crazy Hollywood behavior, and by the time they had made Gigi’s funeral arrangements, she considered him a friend.
Back at his office, he walked her to her car.
“Uh oh,” she said.
Her tires had been slashed.
“How could she know already?” Walter asked, as he took out his cell phone.
“I hope you’re calling to hire me a bodyguard,” Claire said, “or an elite task force of Irish Seals.”
“I’m calling the police,” he said. “In this town, that’s the same thing.”
Police Chief Shep Shepherd was an old friend of Claire’s father, and remembered Jillian’s attack on Sophie. Claire was sitting in his office, where Walter had dropped her off.
“I thought you were going to retire this month,” Claire said.
“I’ve been chief of this town’s police force for over twenty-five years,” he said. “Until they find my replacement, I’ll stay chief.”
“They’re lucky to have you,” Claire said.
“Walter’s going to bring me the surveillance tape, and if Jillian shows up on it, bending down to do the dirty deed, I will arrest her with pleasure,” he said. “Once in a while you come across a wolf in sheep’s clothing, living among the flock, and you never quite take your eye off of that one. Can’t afford to. I’ve been waiting for her to make a mistake, and I’d love to be the one to catch her.”
“She made quite an impression, I see.”
“Oh, she’s quite popular with the suits that run that hospital, and with their wives,” he said. “I see her in the newspaper, attending this gala and that charity ball, and on the committee for the children’s hospital they’re building. But there’s a look some people have in their eyes, not pure evil, or anything supernatural, mind you, just a complete lack of regard for anyone but themselves, and the mistaken notion that they’re fooling the world. She has that, our Jillian, in spades.”
“How can I protect myself? And Eugene?”
“If we see her on that tape, we’ll arrest her,” he said. “Let’s wait and see.”
After Walter and Shep met alone with the tape, they called Claire in to see it as well. It was impossible to tell the identity of the perpetrator from the worn black-and-white videotape, only that he or she was of medium height, medium build, and wore a black hoodie on the hottest day of the year.
“So, that’s that,” Claire said.
“We’ll ask around,” Shep said. “Maybe someone saw her.”
“I’ll get better surveillance set up at work,” Walter said. “You might want to do the same at home, Claire.”
“Don’t be alone with her,” Shep said. “You might want to travel with one of those ornery cousins in tow for a while.”
“Don’t worry,” Claire said. “I’m going to tell all my relatives. Jillian won’t be able to make a move in Rose Hill without a Fitzpatrick breathing down her neck.”
Chapter Four
Hannah picked up the trail of clothing left on the floor from the kitchen to the bathroom, where Sammy was singing “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” at the top of his lungs, while her husband, Sam, attempted to bathe him.
“And on he’s farm he’s had a chicken,” he sang. “Bee eye, bee eye, bow!”
Downstairs, Hannah surveyed the wreckage that was the kitchen after feeding Sammy breakfast. He’d wanted “hots cakes” and it seemed as if Sam had used every bowl and
pan in the cupboard to make them. There was syrup on everything, including Hannah’s hair, and one of the cats was on the table licking the stick of butter.
Hannah shooed the cat and started cleaning. After that, she had to take Sammy to day care, and hope that he stayed long enough so that she could get some actual work done. There were squirrels in Father Stephen’s attic, a possum in Dottie’s garage, and a stray dog reported out Pumpkin Ridge Road.
She had just started the dishwasher as Sam came down the stairs carrying Sammy, who was dressed in red pajama pants, a green T-shirt with a superhero on it, and black tennis shoes worn over a gray sock and a blue sock. To overcome the getting-dressed tantrums, they had been letting him pick out his clothes. As long as he left the house with his feet and private parts covered, Hannah considered it a successful enterprise.
“Some woman called for you,” Hannah told Sam, deliberately not looking at him as she did so, and trying to keep her tone casual. “It was the same one who called you last night, and two days ago.”
“Okay, thanks,” Sam said.
“Can I ask who this woman is who calls you all the time now?”
“It’s one of my soldiers, Hannah, you know that.”
“She sounds more like a bimbo from a USO show,” Hannah said. “Her voice is all breathy, like, Helloooo, is Saaaam hoooome? I’d love to speak to him with my breathy, breathy, girlie voice.”
Sam laughed.
“She’s twenty if she’s a day,” he said. “I told you about her; she’s the arm-below-the-elbow, leg-below-the-knee. Been back a month, her home situation is not good. Boyfriend broke up with her. She’s had it rough.”
“Well, you know what that’s like,” Hannah said.
“I do,” Sam said. “That’s why I’m letting her lean on me a little more than usual. Six months from now it will be ‘Sam who? Oh, that old guy who works with the vets up at the community center.’ She’s just fragile right now.”
Sunflower Street (Rose Hill Mysteries Book 8) Page 6