The Devil You Know (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 15)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  Lucita sighed as she walked over to the counter and pulled out a stool. “Okay. I sit for one minute.” She placed the frozen bag on her head.

  I poured a glass of water and set it in front of her. “Maybe you’ve been working too hard. You might be dehydrated.”

  She took a few sips and looked at me appreciatively. “Thank you, Ms. Hayes. Maybe you are right. Today has been busy for me.”

  “Have you had anything to eat?”

  She shook her head.

  I grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and began peeling it for her. “Here, this will give you some energy.”

  She accepted the fruit and took a bite. Her expression became tight. “Please don't mention to Mr. Caswell.”

  Could I make that kind of promise? George had a right to know if his employee had health issues. “Okay, but if this happens again, I’m calling the ambulance. I’m worried about you.”

  She nodded. “Thank you for understanding.” After she finished her water, she stood up and returned the bag of peas to the freezer. The bump on her head seemed to have dissipated.

  Chapter 8

  At five-thirty, the final guests arrived: Miles, Sue-Ann and their nineteen year old daughter Sasha.

  Miles was tall and lanky like his father, but he didn’t have the chiseled features. In fact, he had a weak chin and a drawn face. His blue eyes were his best feature, with long dark lashes that almost looked feminine.

  Sue-Ann had a big smile, big hair and even bigger breasts. She reminded me of a young Dolly Parton. Their daughter was a spitting image of the mother without the breasts. She struck me as the type of girl who probably won beauty pageants, starting at age five. But if she was going to Cornell, then she must have a brain.

  When George introduced me as Josephine’s daughter, they immediately offered their condolences.

  “We are so sorry about your mother. She was a sweet lady.” Her southern accent was so pronounced it sounded fake.

  “Thank you,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

  Sasha the teenager didn’t have much to say to me after the initial introduction. She was texting on her phone.

  Her mother glared at her and said. “Sasha, don’t be rude.”

  She looked up at her mother and sneered, then reluctantly slipped the phone in her pocket.

  George laughed off the incident. “Why don’t you head upstairs with your luggage, get settled. Dinner will be ready around seven.”

  The family of three headed upstairs and, once they were out of sight, George turned to me with look of relief. “Well, that’s my family. What do you think so far?”

  “They all seem fine with my being here. Everyone except your sister.”

  “My kids were taught to have manners,” he said. “They’d never be rude to your face but what they say behind closed doors... I have no control over that.”

  “I understand. I’m sure Carter is listening to every word. He’ll only text me when he hears something worth mentioning.”

  George sighed in consternation. “I know my family cares about me but, where large fortunes are concerned, it is advisable to trust nobody. Especially family.”

  “I hope we can determine that your family had nothing to do with Josephine’s death.”

  “Me, too.”

  I was tempted to tell him about Lucita’s fainting spell in the kitchen, but I’d made a promise not to mention it. I didn’t know if that was a mistake or not.

  Chapter 9

  Dinner was served at seven.

  Lucita impressed everyone with a wonderful seafood casserole, except for Margaret who was allergic to shellfish. Lucita had made a separate dish just for her; macaroni and cheese with cubed ham.

  I was glad to see that Lucita was not responsible for serving the food. I was still worried about her health and wondered what had really caused her to pass out. George had even invited Lucita to stay and join us for dinner, but she declined with thanks. She made the excuse that her husband was waiting for her at home and so she left.

  It warmed my heart that George treated Lucita with kindness, like she was one of the family instead of hired help. I could also tell, just by their interaction, that there was a mutual respect.

  After Lucita left, George’s daughter-in-law Sue-Ann took it upon herself to act as hostess, graciously spooning exact portions of casserole onto everyone’s plate. There were hot croissants to accompany the meal and several bottles of red from the wine cellar in the basement.

  Throughout dinner, Olivia did most of the talking. She rambled on and on about her audition for a Broadway production of the Vagina Monologues, which elicited much tittering from the other family members.

  I wasn’t all that surprised that nobody asked me any questions. I felt invisible, like a spectator in a sitcom drama. I didn’t mind, because my job was to observe and analyze. The fact that no one paid attention to me was an interesting clue. It could mean a guilty conscience or it could simply mean they didn’t care to get to know me.

  By the end of the weekend, however, I would know a lot about them.

  George seemed content to sit back and let his daughter take center stage, which she seemed to enjoy. Every now and then, Sue-Ann would try and take over the conversation by talking about her daughter’s accomplishments, but Olivia always managed to turn the point of interest back to her. I sensed a bit of a competitiveness between the two women. They both craved attention and admiration and tried to one up each other as often as possible.

  Sasha only picked at her meal, too busy texting on her cell phone. Her mother was too busy flapping her mouth to notice.

  Margaret would inject her snide remarks from time to time but, for the most part, everyone ignored her. Jeremy hadn’t said more than two words since we’d all sat at the table. He kept his head low as he slowly chewed his food.

  George’s son, Miles, didn’t have time to talk. He stuffed his face like a starving man. He devoured three helpings of the casserole, four croissants and three glasses of wine within the first hour. How did he stay so thin with those eating habits? Man, I’d kill for that kind of metabolism.

  And then there was Brett. I caught him staring at me a few times. What would a handsome guy like him find interesting about me? Did he sense that there was something off about the situation?

  By eight-fifteen, I offered to clear the plates from the table but Sue-Ann stood up and began clearing them herself. She gestured for me to stay put. “You are the special guest this weekend,” she said. “You shouldn’t have to lift a finger. Would you like another glass of wine?”

  “No thank you. I’ll just finish what I have left here.”

  Olivia immediately got up and started to help, as if she couldn’t possibly allow Sue-Ann to take all the credit for being helpful. When the two women disappeared into the kitchen with an armload of dishes, Margaret took the opportunity to air her grievance.

  “How did it come to pass that the younger generation of Caswell women are complete airheads?”

  Miles shot her an admonishing look. “Aunt Margaret, don’t be rude.”

  She returned his icy glare. “Well, it’s true. I won’t apologize for speaking the truth.”

  Miles did not bother to reply. Instead, he turned to look at his father. “Dad, what time is the memorial service tomorrow?”

  “Starts at nine and goes till eleven. I’ve booked a private room at the country club and I expect around fifty people to attend.”

  Once Sue-Ann and Olivia returned to the dining room, George cleared his throat, demanding the attention of all. “Now that we’re done eating, I’d like to discuss something with you all. It’s of a serious nature.”

  All eyes were on George and, for a moment, I thought he was going to announce his theory about Josephine’s death. I hadn’t expected he’d do it like this.

  “I wanted to take the opportunity now, while we’re all together,” George continued. “To give you some unfortunate news. I’ve considered putting
this off until later, but I think it’s important to start making arrangements.”

  Everyone remained quiet, waiting.

  George gave a sad smile. “I have an inoperable brain tumor and my doctor gives me three to six months. I’ve had second and third opinions and they all tell me the same thing. There’s very little anyone can do at this point, but I want you all to know that I am not giving up. However, I am also realistic. My chances are not good at surviving this one.”

  I was just as shocked as everyone else. Was George telling the truth, or was this some kind of attempt to throw a monkey wrench into the plan?

  Olivia began crying but Miles was the first to speak up. “Dad, are you serious? How long have you known?”

  “A few months but I wanted to be sure I had all the facts before I told you.”

  Miles turned pale and he looked like he might throw up. Olivia wiped her eyes, trying desperately to control herself but failing. Sasha the granddaughter just stared at George in disbelief. Margaret shook her head solemnly, as if the news hadn’t come as a shock to her.

  “And I always thought I’d be the first to go,” Margaret said.

  Olivia shot her a menacing look. “How can you be so heartless? My dad just told us he’s dying, and all you think about is yourself!”

  George raised his hand. “Please, let’s not argue. This might be the last weekend we are all together.”

  Olivia abruptly stood up from the table, covering her face with her hands. She went to her father and put her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, daddy.”

  George patted her arm. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”

  The tears kept streaming down her cheeks and she eventually ran out of the room toward the foyer. Soon we could hear the sound of her footsteps going up the staircase.

  Brett stood up next. “I should probably go make sure she’s okay. George, I’m sorry to hear the news.”

  “Thank you, Brett,” George said. “Just do me a favor and take care of my daughter, okay? Be good to her.”

  Brett gave a curt nod and left the room without another word.

  George pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. I could tell he wanted to lighten the mood a bit. “Anyone interested in chocolate cake?”

  Miles shook his head. “Not for me. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Me, too,” Sue-Ann said.

  Sasha raised her hand, and with a soft voice, she said, “Gramps, I’ll share a slice with you.”

  George smiled. “That’s the spirit. Anyone else?”

  Margaret turned to Jeremy. “I’m ready to go back to the room. I’m not allowed to have chocolate anyway.”

  Jeremy complied by helping Margaret to her feet and placing the cane in her hand. She tottered out of the room with Jeremy by her side.

  I raised my hand. “I’d love some chocolate cake.”

  Chapter 10

  By nine-thirty, everyone had gone upstairs to bed. Only George and I remained in the kitchen as I helped him load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

  “So it’s true about the brain tumor?” I asked.

  “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. Until earlier this evening, I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to give my family the news but, it occurred to me, this might be the last time they see me as a healthy man.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “A few months now.”

  “And yet, you were still going to marry Josephine. Did she know?”

  “Yes. To be honest, the only reason I was going to marry her was so that she would be taken care of financially. At first, she didn’t agree with it. She was concerned my kids would think she’d tried to take advantage of me but it was all my idea.”

  “I’m … really sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve made peace with it. Can’t live forever, right? I’ve been lucky enough to be loved by two wonderful women in my lifetime. What more could I ask for?”

  “Were you expecting a different reaction from your family tonight?”

  He paused to consider that. “I knew my sister would make it about herself, but I’m sure she’s hurting inside. She’d never tell anyone that, but I know her. I’m the only person in her life who truly understands her. She knows that but she’s also a tough old broad. She’ll be fine.”

  “Olivia certainly seemed to take it hard,” I said. “And Miles looked like he was in total shock.”

  “I’m almost seventy years old. They’ve been preparing for this, trust me. They might be a little emotional now, but money is the salve that will quickly heal their wounds.”

  “Well, so far they’re not paying much attention to me, which is fine but I intend to turn up the heat tomorrow. I’m going to call Carter later tonight, to see what kinds of conversations are going on behind closed doors. I’ll let you know if anything pertains to Josephine.”

  Before George headed off to bed, I asked, “By the way, what is the deal with your sister? Why does she seem so bitter?”

  “She’s had a hard life, I guess. Health problems mostly. It’s been one thing after the other. After she had her foot amputated, she couldn’t resume her normal life and she resents having to have someone take care of her. That’s probably why she orders Jeremy around like a pet.”

  I could see that George was trying, in a small way, to excuse his sister’s behavior. I admired his loyalty.

  After George went upstairs to bed, I strolled into the library, double checking to make sure I was alone. I called Carter’s cell and he picked up on the first ring.

  “Sounds like you’ve had an interesting night over there.” His voice sounded groggy, but I got the sense he was happy to hear from me. “Did you know that George had a brain tumor?”

  “No, that was a surprise,” I replied, keeping my voice low. “I guess you heard that whole conversation, and how his family reacted. What have they been saying to each other in private?”

  “Everyone seems to be in shock. Olivia has been crying non-stop. The others just seem sad and a little confused.”

  “Has anyone mentioned anything at all about Josephine?”

  “Well, from what I’ve gathered, no one seemed to know that Josephine had a daughter until today.”

  “No kidding. So Josephine hadn’t talked about Tina to any of them, and George obviously hadn’t mentioned it before today. Don’t you find that odd?”

  “A little. But considering the fact that Josephine and her daughter weren’t close, maybe talking about it was too painful. In any case, nobody has actually uttered a word about Josephine’s accident. The only thing I picked up on was a comment Margaret made about the memorial tomorrow.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She’s planning to tell George that she’s not feeling well enough to leave the house. She doesn't want to go to the memorial.”

  “Did she explain why she didn’t want to go?”

  “She said she never liked Josephine, so why would she want to go to her memorial. Pretty harsh, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. By the way, I need your advice.”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  “I think George’s maid is having health problems. I walked into the kitchen earlier to find her on the floor. She had passed out and must have hit her head on the counter going down. You probably heard the conversation.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure what had happened to her. You decided not to tell George about it.”

  “What would you do?”

  “Tell him. Think of it this way; George is the client so he’s our priority. I know you made a promise to Lucita, but you probably shouldn’t have.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll tell George tomorrow.”

  “So, sounds like everyone has gone to bed. Maybe you should get some rest, too. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

  “Good idea. I wish you could be with me.”

  “Me, too,” he said.

  After I ended my call with Carter, I slipped my phone into my back po
cket and was about to exit the library when a voice made me stop.

  “Who were you talking to?” Brett stood in the doorway with one hand on his hip as he regarding me with a curious grin.

  “Oh, hi. I was just talking to my boyfriend.”

  “Really?” He took a few steps closer. “Why didn’t he come with you this weekend?”

  “He wanted to. But he has to work.”

  He nodded like he understood. “Pretty awful news about George, huh? Olivia is devastated. She adores her father.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I had no idea he was sick. It was so nice of him to invite me to stay for the weekend considering everything he’s gone through with my mother.”

  “So, where do you live?” he asked. “It’s kind of strange that our family knows very little about you.”

  “I guess my mom never talked about me, then.”

  He gave an apologetic shrug. “Not really.”

  “I move around a lot,” I said. “I travel for work. I do documentaries.”

  “What kind of documentaries?”

  “I’m interested in ancient tribes, mostly in Africa.”

  “Sounds fascinating. Tell me more?”

  I paused to check my watch, giving him the hint that maybe it was too late to get into it. “I’m sorry, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about work.”

  “All right, then. What would you like to talk about? To be honest, I’m not the least bit tired.”

  “Is your wife asleep already?”

  “Olivia took some sleeping pills and she conked right out.”

  I figured this might be an opportunity to get to know Brett a little better, so why not. It’d find a way to divert the conversation to Josephine. “Hey, I noticed there’s still some wine left from dinner. I was going to have a glass, you want one, too?”

  “Sure,” he said. “We could always go down to the cellar and grab another bottle if we run out.”

  “Really? You don’t think George would mind?”

  “Of course not. He has more bottles of wine down there than anyone can drink in a lifetime. Want me to show you?”