A Lethal Legacy

by P. C. Zick

  Gared helped ease some of my pain and helped me concentrate on important things like keeping Tessa from tossing him out of his crib while she adjusted to having a sibling.

  He floated on top of the water for a long moment while he watched her tread water next to him. She began to sink under the surface, and he left his peaceful pose to swim frantically to where he last saw her go under. She grabbed at him in panic, nearly pulling them both underwater.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  It didn't take Tessa very long to realize that her brother would be here to stay. With Claire's help, we gave her plenty of attention while still bonding with Gared. Soon Tessa became just as protective as the rest of us of the new addition to the family.

  At eighty-seven, Claire thrived while her peers began to fail. First, my mother succumbed to a decade of weariness brought on by her Alzheimer's. When she died, I could finally cry for her death. I had been in mourning for years but never felt I could really show my sadness. For me, Marjorie Townsend died five years before.

  The relief I felt when my mother finally died, was short-lived. One day we received a call from the police. Aunt Susan had been found wandering around the streets of downtown Ocala that afternoon. Luckily, her purse contained identification, and the police officer called the house so I could come and pick her up. Her car was found later abandoned on a side street. Aunt Susan had no idea how she’d gotten there and still seemed disoriented when I arrived to take her home. I had to convince her to get into the car. As I wearily drove back to our tree-lined subdivision, I realized that Aunt Susan would now require more care.

  After a visit to the doctor later that same day, Claire, Cassie, and I sat and discussed the next steps. The doctor suggested that maybe Susan was in the early stages of Alzheimer's, but the only way to tell for sure would be through an autopsy, after death. He was certain she hadn't had a stroke. We began remembering the little things that Susan was forgetting lately and realized that the doctor probably made an accurate diagnosis.

  While Susan rested in her bedroom, the three of us decided that we had some time before making any major changes. However, I cautioned both Cassie and Claire not to leave the children alone with her anymore even for just very short moments. If the disease progressed anything at all, as my mother's had, she could come and go for years before losing all of her faculties completely.

  According to Claire, Kristina had managed to get a job as a hostess at a casino making a small wage plus tips. I imagined the kind of place where Kristina worked, and I imagined that with a skimpy hostess outfit she would probably manage a nice amount in tips from generous gamblers. Even though the images of Kristina in Las Vegas bothered me, I knew I could do nothing about it. Instead, I concentrated on the other females in my life.

  One afternoon in the summer, while Cassie took Claire and Susan shopping and the children napped in their rooms, I worked on my new book at the computer. The phone rang disturbing my concentration.

  "Ed! Long time, huh?" came Kristina's distinctive deep throaty voice.

  "Hi, Kristina. What's up?"

  "Try to sound a little happy to hear from me at least. How's the family?"

  "Everyone's fine. I’m happy to hear from you. How are you?"

  I was working on a particularly difficult chapter of my book and resented her interruption. Her voice startled me because the main character of the new novel took its life form from the personality of Kristina. I had actually been visualizing her provocative way of tossing her head back and looking at me through half-closed lids when the phone rang. Her voice came over the phone lines as strongly stimulating as an aphrodisiac to my waning libido. I fought to remain in control.

  "What's wrong, Eddie? You used to love hearing my voice," she said.

  "I still love hearing your voice, Kristina. Is that what you want to hear? I'm just trying to be a little wiser in my old age."

  "Bet I could still get you excited if I half tried," she said in her most seductive voice.

  "Did you want to talk to Claire?" I needed to get her off the phone as soon as possible. I had been attempting for the past year to keep all my passions and desires under wraps. Right now, they were dangerously close to unraveling.

  "Sure, let me talk to Claire. She at least will be happy to hear from me."

  "She's out shopping with Cassie and Susan. I'll have her call you." I abruptly hung up the phone in order not to hear the voice that haunted my worst nightmares.

  Claire told me later in the day that when she called Kristina back, Kristina was upset with me.

  "What did you two talk about, Ed?" she asked when she came back from her room after the telephone conversation.

  "Nothing much. She wanted to talk to you."

  "She said you were rude to her. That doesn't sound like you."

  "I guess I was just caught up in my work. I usually let the answering machine pick up, but today I automatically reached for the phone when it rang. Tell her I'm sorry, the next time you speak to her."

  "She lost her job," Claire said.

  "Again?"

  "Yes, again. That kid sure has a run of bad luck, doesn't she?" Claire said.

  "I guess you could call it that, Claire. What happened this time?"

  "She said that the owner had a niece who needed a job after a divorce. I guess Kris had the least seniority. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I told her I would send her an extra month's allowance to help cover expenses until she can find something else."

  "Claire, you don't have to explain to me, you know," I said, but Claire put up her hand.

  "I know how you feel about her, Ed, don't try and hide it. I also know that you are looking out for me, and for that, I will always be eternally grateful. However, Kristina is my only living blood relative, and I need to help her when I can. I just want you to know when I do help her."

  "Claire, be careful. You know that she's not all that she seems," I said before she went back to her room probably to write out the check and compose a short note to her granddaughter.

  When Kris didn't call to thank Claire, her feelings must have been hurt because Kris' name didn't come up for several months in my presence. Claire confided in Cassie that she thought the least Kris could have done was to call to say thanks.

  By the beginning of 1995, Aunt Susan's Alzheimer's reached the stage where she had to be cared for around the clock, and once again, I made arrangements for one of my relatives to go into a nursing home. It didn't get any easier the second time around. Susan could no longer take care of her own financial affairs either. When I visited my lawyer, I found out that I should have done something much earlier about Susan's situation.

  She had named Philip as her power of attorney and health care surrogate. Since Philip was deceased and Susan could no longer make competent decisions regarding her affairs, a state-appointed guardian needed to be assigned. I got the job without applying.

  Meanwhile Kristina called to tell Claire that she had been given a great opportunity with a man who had homes in both Las Vegas and San Diego. She and a friend would be traveling to California with him monthly to serve his guests at house parties there.

  "All she has to do is look pretty and serve drinks. Evidently he's going to pay her quite well," Claire said one night as she told Cassie and me about Kristina's new job.

  "How well does she know this man?" Cassie asked.

  I decided to keep my mouth shut. At least Kristina wasn't asking for money this time, but I knew that this deal probably entailed more than the simple serving of drinks, and I didn't feel in a position to pass judgments. However, the thought of Kristina servicing these businessmen for money left me sickened.

  "He owns one of the casinos. I think Pam might have introduced them," Claire said.

  "I hope she's careful," was all Cassie offered.

  "Maybe you could find out something more, Ed?" Claire asked.

  "About what?"

  "About the situation. It may not be all that wonderful, now that I think of
it. Could you call Kristina and ask her some questions? She'll expect it from you."

  "I'm sure Kristina will be fine, Claire. She's almost thirty now and can make her own decisions. You don't honestly believe that a call from me would make any difference, do you? If anything, it might make her do something rash." The last thing I wanted to do was call Kristina.

  Once again, months passed before Claire heard anything from her. One afternoon, when I came out of the study, I found Cassie and Claire sitting at the kitchen table. Claire held her head with both hands. Cassie looked up in relief when I entered.

  "What's going on?"

  "Claire just got a call from Kris," Cassie said.

  "What about?"

  "You tell him, please, Cassie. I can't," Claire said.

  "Evidently Kris told Claire that she had lost the San Diego job and was greatly depressed. Pam and Oscar won't help her out and refuse to let her stay with them. Then she asked Claire to send her $20,000 immediately so she could get her life back in order. She promised not to call again, if Claire would just send the money."

  "What did you tell her, Claire?" I asked.

  "I tried explaining that taking that much money from the principle would be a great drain on the portfolio, and I didn't think I could do that."

  "Good, good. What did Kristina say then?"

  Cassie looked at Claire who nodded. "Kris told her that she had a gun sitting right next to her, and if Claire didn't send the money, she would kill herself."

  "It's a trick, Claire. What did you say to her?"

  "I told her I was sorry. I also told her that she was a grown woman now, and she needed to stand on her own two feet. And then I told her that the money wouldn't make her life better. I begged her to get help and have the bills sent to me. But I refused to send her any money." Claire took a deep gulp of air, but she did not lose her composure.

  "What happened then?"

  "She hung up the phone. I've been trying to call her back for the last hour, but the line is busy. I hope I did the right thing."

  "You did, Claire. Don't doubt that. She just pulled emotional blackmail on you, and you refused to let her. I'm proud of you. I doubt she pulled that trigger. She probably didn't even have a gun. Besides Kristina isn't the type to kill herself."

  I slept little that night because of my anger. I never thought for a moment that Kristina had killed herself after hanging up on Claire. However, I felt like killing her myself for doing what she had done to her grandmother. Claire seemed to age before my eyes as we sat at that kitchen table talking. Finally, around three in the morning I got up and went to the kitchen phone and placed a call to Las Vegas. I knew the phone would be back on the hook by this time, and it was.

  "Kris, Ed here. Claire tells me you're having some problems."

  "Yeah, well, it's been tough, Ed. I owe a bunch of money. No one really cares about me. Oscar got real mean when I asked him for help. I didn't know where else to turn today."

  "I want you to look in the yellow pages for a crisis center in Las Vegas. They don't charge anything. Call them the next time you feel like committing suicide, OK?" I paused.

  "Yeah, sure thing, Eddie, boy," came the expected and sarcastic reply. "Can't I just call you? Or don't you care about me anymore?"

  "Kris, we've already discussed this. Listen to me very carefully now. I want you to call a crisis center when you have your next bout of trouble, but under no circumstances are you to call Claire ever again and use emotional blackmail to get money out of her. If you ever pull a stunt like this again, I will see to it that you will never be able to reach her again, and believe me, I can do that. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Is that all?"

  "That's about it," I said.

  "Good-bye, asshole," I heard before the phone banged in my ear.

  I didn't have much time in the next few months to think about Kris or her problems because Aunt Susan took a sudden turn for the worse in her fight with Alzheimer's. She became increasingly disoriented and violent, causing many problems at the nursing home.

  I spent many long hours in meetings with the director and social worker and nurses while we attempted to solve the problem of Aunt Susan. If she wasn't trying to get into bed with the male patients, she was walking naked through the lobby of the home causing the families of other patients' extreme embarrassment. She constantly walked, even during the night hours when her body would be nearly dropping with exhaustion.

  She began to take on the look of a concentration camp victim while still moving constantly even in her weakened state. Claire, who had been a regular visitor at first, soon decided to stop her visits because she was startled whenever Susan asked about Philip. She also seemed embarrassed by Susan's behavior. I finally suggested that it would be all right with me if she stopped visiting her sister-in-law. I assured her that I would handle everything. Even though she hesitated, I could tell she was relieved that she would no longer have to sit in the visitor's lounge with Susan as she undressed herself.

  Soon Aunt Susan's promiscuity and nakedness took a back seat as she became increasingly violent and difficult for the aides to handle. One day I had to kneel in her lap to keep her legs still. I held her arms with every ounce of strength I had while the facility's hair stylist trimmed Susan's bangs so she could see. When she finished cutting, I loosened my hold and climbed out of her lap. Susan looked me directly in the eye and slapped me full across the face.

  Even though her physical being looked small and frail, her strength remained stronger than most grown men. In a highly agitated state, it often took three or four aides to restrain her.

  When she began attacking the other patients, either by hitting or biting them, the nursing home became increasingly alarmed about the possibility of a lawsuit from one of the other patient's families. They began mentioning sending her to a facility for observation for thirty days. They warned me that during those thirty days her bed would probably be filled from the long waiting list. The unspoken implication led me to begin looking for another nursing home for Aunt Susan.

  After a quick check with my lawyer, I found that indeed the nursing home was quite within their rights as long as they gave me thirty days' notice.

  "What happens if I can't find a place for her after thirty days?" I asked Tim Pierce, my lawyer.

  "She would have to be placed in the state mental facility," he said.

  I told Claire over dinner that night about the possibility.

  "You can't let that happen, Ed," Claire said as her face reddened.

  "I know, I know. I need to check around for a good place first. Maybe I'll be able to find something even better."

  "Claire, what's the matter?" Cassie asked when she noticed how agitated Claire had become at the mention of a state hospital.

  "Ed's grandmother, Helen Townsend. She was ill, something like Susan although we didn't call it Alzheimer's. It was scarier then because we thought she had simply lost her mind, you know, gone crazy." She made small circles with her forefinger. "The doctors eventually diagnosed it as insanity or senility brought on by her diabetes."

  "What happened?"

  I realized when Cassie asked that question that I had never confided in her. It was something the family kept hidden because of the embarrassment it caused at the time. No one wanted to admit that Grandma had been sent away to the loony bin. Gary and I were taught by the masters at keeping those little unpleasant secrets to ourselves.

  "Aunt Susan and Grandpa cared for Grandma in their home," I said. "Susan hadn't married yet. Grandma started acting very strange. First came the accusations. Weird stuff. Gary and I would go and visit Grandma, and she would tell us that Susan and Grandpa were having an affair. Of course, Gary and I were too young to realize what was going on, but we would tell our parents about these things because Grandma seemed so agitated," I said.

  Claire reached over and touched Cassie's hand before she took over and continued the story. "When the boys came home with these wild stories, we began
to suspect that something more was wrong than just the diabetes. Susan didn't tell us much, but we could tell that Mother Townsend was becoming an increasing burden on her. We talked her into hiring a nurse's aide to live with them. Philip and I took care of the cost."

  "One night just before Christmas of 1955, we received a call from the police in the middle of the night," Claire said. "That night Mother Townsend had taken a meat cleaver from the kitchen, and when the aide came to administer the night's shot, Mother pulled out the knife and swung it wildly. She sliced off the end of the aide's little finger."

  Cassie looked from me to Claire in disbelief. "She tried to kill her?"

  "We don't know that. By the time we got to the house, she was sedated and mumbling incoherently, something like Susan does now. She never really spoke to us again," Claire said.

  "What happened then? Did they arrest her?"

  "We tried to keep it as quiet as possible. The aide fortunately was very understanding and knew that Mother's illness, or insanity, as the police called it, caused the violence. She decided not to press charges. However, the doctor told us that if we didn't want this repeated, we'd better put her in a facility that could deal with an illness like hers."

  "And you put her where?"

  "Unfortunately, at the time there were no facilities except at Ypsilanti State Mental Hospital. Philip and Stanley fought bitterly about this. Stanley could never admit that something was seriously wrong with his mother. Finally, Philip and Susan made the decision to commit her."

  "What about her husband, Ed's grandfather?" Cassie asked.

  "He was fairly broken up himself at the time and really had nothing to say about any of it. He would begin crying whenever the subject came up around him. So, as I said, the decision was left to Philip and Susan. Stanley would have no part of it. So on December 23, 1955, Philip and Susan signed the papers to commit her. Grandpa Townsend signed, too, as required by law. Although I don't think he ever knew what he was signing." Claire gave me a guilty look.