by Elaine Viets
“I know how we can get that woman,” Violet said.
Phil caught Helen’s eye and raised an eyebrow at that we. He knew that was client code for you.
Nancie leaned forward in her desk and gave Violet a gunslinger’s stare. “We’ll be happy to consider any ideas you might have,” she said. “But I am in charge of any inquiry, and Coronado Investigations works with me. We will not do anything illegal or unethical.”
Violet sat back slightly, as if the force of Nancie’s statement made her retreat. She fumbled with her purse strap while she carefully chose her words and softened her voice. “I’m worried that woman will try to kill my father in the hospital,” she said. “She could smother him with a pillow or pull the plug on the ventilator. Then Daddy will never get a chance to recover.” A fat tear escaped and slid down her pale cheek.
Nancie seemed to suppress a sigh. Very slowly, as if she were explaining a complex subject to a small child, she said, “There’s no evidence your father is receiving improper treatment—or that he’s been poisoned. We need facts. All we have is his housekeeper’s bungled attempt to get Blossom arrested and an imaginary boyfriend.”
“He’s real,” Violet said. “She’s cheating on Daddy. My father needs protection, and I can’t be there to help him. That woman won’t let me into his ICU room, but she’d have to let in Daddy’s spiritual adviser.”
“Your father has a minister?” Helen asked.
“Yes,” Violet said. “You.”
Her words detonated a deafening silence. Violet rushed to fill it. “Daddy wasn’t religious. I don’t think he’s been in a church since Mama was buried. But that woman has been with Daddy such a short time she doesn’t know if he has a Baptist minister or a Buddhist monk.”
Phil said the name Violet couldn’t bring herself to pronounce. “Is Blossom from Fort Lauderdale?”
“That woman says she’s from California,” Violet said, “but who knows? Her maiden name—though I doubt she’s been one for years—is supposed to be Blossom Mae. We had dinner together after she and Daddy came home from the cruise. It was awkward. Watching my father slobber over her almost made me lose my dinner.”
Violet suddenly seemed aware of how bitter she must sound. “I guess you think I have issues with my father remarrying. I don’t. I want Daddy to be happy. But she’s pure evil.”
More tears trickled from her reddened eyes. Violet fished Phil’s handkerchief out of her purse and blotted her eyes, but she couldn’t stop weeping. Helen felt sorry for her. Violet seemed sincerely worried about her ailing father. But was she right about Blossom?
“I tried to get her to talk about herself,” Violet said. “Everyone likes to do that. She wouldn’t. All that woman would say was she grew up in San Diego and she went to work for the cruise line. I couldn’t pry another fact out of her, which I thought was fishy. I know she’s hiding something. She wouldn’t even tell me what year she graduated from high school.”
“Maybe she’s hiding her age,” Phil said.
“Then that’s all she’s hiding,” Violet said. “She definitely flaunted her goodies. Daddy’s eyes crossed when she leaned over to pass the cream. I’m guessing she’s about thirty-five. Her name is flaky enough that she could be from Moonbeam Land. Daddy is a sucker for flower names. Mother’s name was Honeysuckle and my name is Violet. He calls that woman his Little Flower.”
Violet snorted. “Little Flower, my eye. Clinging Vine is more like it. She’s wrapped herself around Daddy and hung on tight. Now she’s strangling the life out of him.
“That woman came from nowhere. She never mentions her family. I don’t know if her parents are alive or if she has brothers or sisters. All I know is she was a masseuse on a cruise ship and met Daddy while he was on a world cruise.
“Heaven knows what kind of massage she gave him. Daddy said it was a full-body massage.” Violet rolled her eyes. “Full body, indeed. She threw her body at him. I thought that cruise line was respectable.”
“‘Full body’ is a type of therapeutic massage,” Phil said.
Violet looked like she’d swallowed something sour and continued. “Daddy called me from the cruise ship and said he was marrying her. He’d only known that woman for two weeks. I told him she was after his money.”
“You said that before you even met her?” Helen said.
“It wasn’t tactful, I know,” Violet said. “I probably made things worse. Daddy said he was old enough to know his own mind and I’d never seen her, so how could I criticize her?
“I wanted to fly in for the wedding, but he said there wasn’t time. They were marrying on the beach the next day, when their ship reached the Maldives. Those are islands off the coast of India.”
Nancie and the two detectives nodded like bobblehead dolls.
“That woman had signed a contract to work for the cruise line for a whole year. Daddy bought it out and paid to have a substitute massage therapist flown in at the next port of call. They spent their honeymoon on the ship where she’d been an employee.
“They were only home three weeks when Daddy had that ‘heart attack.’”
Helen could hear the quotation marks around those words.
“He was popping Viagra like candy. The last time I saw Daddy, he was swaggering around like a teenager. He bragged that they hadn’t left the house in four days and made it clear they’d spent it in bed.”
“Wow!” Phil said. “That’s pretty impressive.”
Violet seared him with an angry look. “She was wearing nothing but a negligee at four in the afternoon.”
Phil started to say something, then stopped himself.
Violet rushed into the silence. “That’s why you could get into Daddy’s hospital room, Helen. You could say you were his minister. She never bothered learning anything about him except he had a big bank account. If you went to the hospital, you could sit in the ICU and watch over him. I want you to be his bodyguard at night. That’s when I worry most about Daddy, when there isn’t much activity in the hospital. If you were there, she couldn’t harm him.”
“But I’m not a minister,” Helen said.
“You could be,” Phil said. “Our landlady, Margery, is a minister in the Universal Life Church. You can get ordained online for free.”
Helen glared at her husband. She didn’t like being rushed into this.
“Is that church legal?” Violet asked.
“I sure hope so,” Phil said. “Margery married us.”
“The ordination is legal,” Nancie said, “as long as Helen uses her real name.”
“Let’s do it now,” Violet said. “Helen could get ordained by your office computer.”
“Wait a minute,” Helen said. “Even if I do get ordained, why would Blossom let me in to see Mr. Zerling? She’s kept you away from your own father.”
“Because she wants everyone to think she’s a sweet, concerned wifey,” Violet said. “She’s painted me as a jealous, possessive daughter.”
And you helped with that portrait, Helen thought.
“That woman bribes the hospital staff,” Violet said. “She doesn’t give them money, but she brings in gourmet sandwiches and pizza. There’s always a huge hundred-dollar box of Godiva chocolate at the nurses’ station. They love her. The nurses don’t like me because I’m too proud to buy friends.”
Too bad, Helen thought. We’re going to cost a lot more than chocolates and sandwiches.
“Now will you get ordained?” Violet asked. “Please?”
Helen was a lapsed Catholic. A casual ordination made her feel uneasy. “What about Phil?” she asked. “He could be a minister.”
“I have other plans for him,” Violet said.
“Perhaps you’d care to share them with us,” Nancie said, her words sharp and clipped. “Please remember Helen and Phil will take no action without my approval. Now, let’s hear your idea for Phil.”
“He could be that woman’s estate manager,” Violet said. “She’s advertising for one in th
e newspaper. That’s what she’s calling the job: estate manager. Have you ever heard anything so pretentious?”
“How big is the estate?” Phil asked.
“It isn’t an estate,” Violet said. “It’s a comfortable house with eight bedrooms and twelve bathrooms. It does need looking after. Daddy had Fran. What that woman wants is a houseman, or a handyman, or even a caretaker. Those are the right terms. But she’s new rich, so she inflated the title to estate manager.”
“Would I have to keep the books?” Phil asked.
“No,” Violet said. “Daddy has an accountant. You’ll deal with the household staff, the pool service, the lawn service, the security service and various repair people. You’ll have to make sure the property is well maintained.”
“I could do that,” Phil said. “Am I qualified?”
Helen bristled as she watched Violet run her eyes up and down Phil’s body. Violet lingered over his broad shoulders and stopped at his striking silver hair, which Phil had pulled into a ponytail.
“Oh, you’re qualified,” Violet said, laughing too loudly. “You’ve got everything she’ll want. Right between your legs.”
“That’s enough, Violet,” Nancie said. “That’s sexual harassment and I won’t permit it in my office.”
“Phil is married,” Helen said. “To me.”
“I’m not that kind of guy,” Phil said, and attempted a laugh, but he was embarrassed.
So was Violet. She’d turned a blotchy red. “I apologize,” she said. “I was out of line. I’ve been upset since Daddy got sick. I hope you’ll forgive my coarse remark. I meant the job as estate manager would get you into my father’s house. Then you can find out who is that woman’s boyfriend and get the evidence to prove she’s trying to murder Daddy.
“She is killing him,” Violet said. “You have to believe me. I’ll spend every nickel I have to prove it.”
CHAPTER 3
The Reverend Helen Hawthorne had been a minister for three minutes, and she didn’t like it. Helen believed women had the right to perform pastoral duties. Now the click of a mouse on a lawyer’s computer made her a minister. She could baptize, bury and legally marry couples in all fifty states.
It didn’t feel right. The power to preside over life’s major milestones should be given in a solemn ceremony, she thought. Being a minister was a sacred duty, even to the nonreligious Helen.
Nancie and Violet applauded when the online ordination was complete, but Helen didn’t feel like celebrating.
“You’ll have an e-mail verification in twenty-four hours,” Nancie said. “I’ll forward it.”
“Congratulations, Reverend,” Phil said, and kissed her cheek.
“May I speak to my partner in private, please?” Helen asked.
“Use the conference room next door,” Nancie said.
Helen dragged Phil into the room, yanked two tall gold-upholstered chairs away from the oak table and said, “Sit.”
Phil sat. He looked puzzled. Helen sat across from her husband.
“Did I say something wrong?” Phil asked.
“Yes,” Helen said. “Don’t ever volunteer me for something again without asking. I’m your partner in our agency. You trapped me into that farce of an ordination.”
“I didn’t think you’d care,” Phil said.
“You could have asked,” Helen said. “And for the record, I do care. Being a minister is a serious business, even to someone like me.”
“I’m sorry,” Phil said. “I thought it was part of going undercover. I’m working as a fake estate manager for Blossom and you’ll guard Mr. Zerling as a minister. Your ordination gives your cover authenticity.”
“Point taken,” Helen said.
“Something else is wrong,” Phil said. “What is it?”
Helen stared down the long expanse of polished oak and tried to find the right words. She wondered if the frugal Nancie had bought the overgrown dining set with the stiff, gold-plush cushions secondhand and recycled it for her conference room. Its ornate style was so different from the lawyer’s own practical office.
Phil interrupted her thoughts. “Helen, we left Nancie and Violet waiting on us. What else is wrong?”
“I don’t like this,” Helen said.
“This what? This case? This client? Do you think Violet is lying?”
“No, I think she’s telling the truth,” Helen said. “As she sees it. I also think she has a knack for making trouble for herself. She insulted her father’s bride before she even met the woman.”
“When a much younger woman marries a very old man, the main attraction is usually his money,” Phil said.
“I know that,” Helen said. “But not always. Sometimes a woman is attracted to qualities that transcend age—a man’s vitality and creativity. Violet never bothered finding out. She branded Blossom a gold digger and treated her father as a randy old fool. I suspect if she’d been a little nicer to those ICU nurses, they might have let Violet see her father.”
“The hospital has rules,” Phil said. “Blossom left those instructions, and the nurses have to follow them.”
“A busy nurse could look the other way if Violet wanted to visit her father,” Helen said. “They could convince themselves they were being compassionate. But none of them did. I’m betting Violet has ticked them off, too.”
“It’s true she won’t even say Blossom’s name,” Phil said. “She radiates anger.”
“I’d be angry, too, if I thought someone was killing my father,” Helen said. “But I’d try to control my feelings better.”
“Really?” Phil said. “I seem to remember that you attacked your first husband’s Land Cruiser with a crowbar, Ms. Cool.”
“I surprised Rob while he was having sex with our next-door neighbor,” Helen said. “That was different.”
“If you say so,” Phil said. “Dying in the saddle is a good way to go. At least old Arthur will die happy.”
“And before his time, if Violet is right,” Helen said. “Do you think Blossom poisoned him?”
“Can’t tell,” Phil said. “Blossom’s sudden urge to cook sounds strange. And she might have a lover. We’re certainly not getting the full picture from the daughter, and the housekeeper messed things up further. At least we work for an ethical lawyer. Nancie won’t treat Violet like a cash cow, milking the woman until her money runs dry. She must think Violet has some credibility or she wouldn’t have called us.
“Let’s take the case and investigate further,” he said. “You can check out Blossom when you’re at the hospital and get a feel for what she’s like. I’ll find out more about her if I get the job as estate manager. I’ll also do a background check on her.”
“I can interview the housekeeper,” Helen said. “Maybe she saw something useful.”
“It’s pretty clear she never saw exotic spices before,” Phil said. “I’ll tail Blossom and find out if she’s meeting a boyfriend.” He held up his right hand. “And I solemnly swear I’ll consult you first on all major decisions for our agency.”
“Deal,” Helen said, and kissed Phil.
“Are you going to wear a Roman collar to the hospital, Your Holiness?” Phil asked. “That would look hot.”
“That’s overdoing it,” Helen said. “I’ll go ahead with this investigation and see if we turn up anything. I don’t want to be mercenary, but Violet is willing to pay.”
“We’re supposed to be mercenary,” Phil said. “We’re running a business. Violet is racking up more billable hours in Nancie’s office while we talk.”
“Then let’s rejoin them,” Helen said.
As she entered Nancie’s doorway, she heard the lawyer say, “Yes, they are new, Violet. They’ve been in business only a few months. But Phil was a private investigator with a multinational agency for many years. I have absolute confidence in Coronado Investigations. I’ve worked with them before and—hi, Phil and Helen. I was telling Violet about your qualifications. I hope you’re taking her case.”
/> “We’re ready to start,” Helen said. “When do you want me at the hospital?”
“Five o’clock tomorrow,” Violet said. Her tears had dried, but her face was still red and blotchy. “Some of Daddy’s friends are keeping watch for me in shifts. I told them I’d have someone in place by tomorrow evening.”
“I could start sooner,” Helen said.
“No, they love Daddy and they”—her voice wobbled—“want a chance to say good-bye.”
“Do they think Blossom poisoned your father?” Helen asked.
“They’re staying neutral,” Violet said. “They want to sit with their old friend and they don’t believe he’ll recover.” She rushed through that sentence before her voice broke. “Bob, one of Daddy’s partners, has the last shift tonight. Will you wear a Roman collar?”
“I discussed that with Phil,” Helen said. “It’s best to keep it simple. I’ll wear a plain gray suit, black pumps and a small silver cross. I can carry my mother’s Bible.”
“Helen, what will you do if that woman tries to hurt my father?” Violet asked.
“I’ll ask her firmly and loudly what she’s doing,” Helen said. “I’ll yell if I have to. We’ll be in the ICU. There will be staff all around. I’m not afraid of some little blond trophy.”
“She’s not blond,” Violet said. “She’s a brunette with rather extravagant hair. That woman is definitely not little. She’s nearly your height—about five feet ten—and she does yoga and Pilates. I think she’s too thin, but Daddy calls her willowy. I doubt she’ll cause you any trouble, Helen. Sneaking up on a sick, helpless man is more her style.”
“I’d like to talk to the housekeeper as soon as possible,” Helen said. “How do I reach her?”
“Fran is moving into a condo in Coconut Creek,” Violet said. “I’ll call her now.”
Violet found her cell phone and speed-dialed a number. “Hello, Fran, it’s me. I’ve hired a detective for Daddy… . Would you be willing to talk to her today? Good. Her name is Helen Hawthorne… . I’m sure she understands.”