by A. C. Mason
An aide wearing pale blue scrubs walked briskly into the room with a blood pressure cuff, a thermometer, and the medical chart to record my vital signs.
“Ooh,” she said. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
“Thank goodness I’m able to be awake.”
She chuckled and went about the business of taking my blood pressure. “It’s a little high,” she said. “You need to try and relax after your ordeal.”
I pressed my hand against my forehead in an attempt to curb the pain. “Is there anything you can give me for the headache?”
“The doctor didn’t prescribe any pain medication because of your concussion, but I’ll talk to the nurse and see if there’s anything you can have.”
“Thanks.”
She stuck the thermometer into my mouth and waited for the attached machine to respond with a temperature reading. “Temperature’s normal.” She jotted down the results on my chart, gathered up the medical gear, and left to complete her rounds.
Jim walked back into the room soon after the aide exited.
“Did you find the charm?” I immediately asked
He pulled a plastic baggie from his pocket. “It was on the coffee table.”
I gave a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”
“Tell me again where you found this,” he said.
“Under a table in the foyer of Steven and Anne’s former home. I believe the charm belongs to the blond woman who accompanied Greg to the house last week.”
He simply nodded and returned the plastic baggie to his pocket. “So, what’s up with Steven? He looked riled.”
“He probably is because he didn’t appreciate my questions about where and who he was with the night of Anne’s murder.”
Jim shook his head. “I can’t understand why he won’t give out any information. If Falcon and Berthelot decide to charge him he’s not going to be able to get off this time.”
“What do you mean ‘this time’?”
He looked like he could have cut his tongue out. “I meant, he avoided being arrested the first time around, but he won’t get off so easy this time.”
“Tell me the truth. Why wasn’t he arrested right after the murder?” I asked. “I know he’s always been the prime suspect. Did my father call in some favors?”
Jim rubbed his hand over the five o’clock shadow growing on his face. “The DA said we didn’t have a strong enough case to charge him. Steven wouldn’t tell you anything about his whereabouts that night?”
“He told me he spent the evening at the family camp.”
“The place near Madisonville,” Jim said. “That’s the same story he told me when I questioned him during the original investigation.”
“Yes, but when I asked who he was with he said nobody. I gave him my theory about Mary Catherine being the one. That’s when he got mad and stormed out of here.”
Jim frowned. He didn’t speak for what seemed like an eternity. “I know you’re not going to give this up especially since somebody is trying to keep you from finding out his or her secret, so I…”
“You’re right,” I interrupted. “I don’t intend to stop now. A woman killed Anne and she also murdered Greg to keep him from talking. The same woman is also responsible for hitting me over the head. What are you leading up to?”
“If you let me finish, I’ll tell you,” he said with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.
I squeezed my eyes shut determined not to cry. Trying to prove Steven’s innocence had turned me into a maniac. “I’m sorry.” My resolution weakened. Tears pooled in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks.
Jim moved closer to me and put his arms around me. He didn’t say a word until I gained control of my emotions.
“We wrapped up a case this morning. All I have to do is to finish writing up the report. I have some leave time coming to me.”
“You’ve given NOPD your notice?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll be on leave for the next week. We can head for Cypress Lake and find a place to live.”
“What about our current home? We can’t leave the house vacant.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “We’ll have to put it up for sale and let the real estate company take care of it.” His casual tone of voice didn’t mirror his body language. He knew I wouldn’t like those arrangements.
“Jim, I’m sorry, but I can’t simply pick up and leave here in a week. There are too many loose ends we need to take care of.”
“What you really mean is the loose ends you need to take care of,” he said, angry. “You’re still determined to prove Steven is innocent.”
“Yes, I am. He did not kill his wife nor did he hire someone to kill her or Greg.”
“What makes you think he wasn’t the one who hit you over the head? His appearance at the scene is a little too convenient for me.”
“I can’t believe you’d say such a thing,” I said and turned my face away from him.
A slight knock on the partially open door caught my attention. Both Jim and I looked in that direction. Lisa stuck her head inside. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” I said, relieved about the diversion from this conversation. Although I knew my husband and I would get back to this discussion soon. “Come on in.”
Lisa presented me with a festive gift bag containing shower gel and a candle in a matching fragrance. “I knew you could use a little cheer.”
“This does make me feel better.” Curious about her sudden appearance, I asked, “How did you know I was in the hospital?”
“I called your house earlier and your hubby told me.” She glanced at Jim. “He didn’t say exactly why you were here. What in the world happened?”
“I was hit over the head by an unknown person. As a result I suffered a concussion and had to get stitches in the head wound.”
“Good grief, Susan,” she said with concern. “You were lucky you weren’t hurt worse.”
“Yes she was,” Jim said. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her before she gets into more serious trouble. I can’t seem to get through to her.” He rose from his chair. Leaning over me, he kissed me on the forehead. “We’ll continue this discussion later,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll be back after awhile.” He nodded to Lisa and left the room.
His exit left me with an empty feeling. I stared at the door for a long time after he left. Lisa broke into my thoughts.
“He’ll be back,” she said. “He’s just worried about you.” She sat in the chair Jim had vacated.
“Sure, I know he’ll come back, but I wish he and I were on the same page concerning Steven’s innocence.”
“I gather he still believes your brother is guilty.”
“Truthfully, I’m not sure whether Jim really believes it or not. After Greg’s murder, he found out Steven had an airtight alibi. At the time he told me he might consider thinking along the same lines as mine, but now he’s gone back to his old stance.”
“Steven isn’t a suspect any longer in Greg’s murder?” She leaned forward in the chair. “You said he had an alibi for the time.”
“He met with his attorney for an hour or so around the time Greg died. According to Jim, Steven could’ve hired someone to kill Greg. I assume this is the official police theory.”
“So he is still a suspect,” she said.
“I’m afraid so.”
“What a bummer.”
“Absolutely.” Feeling exhausted, I leaned back against the pillows and closed my eyes. I opened them again when I heard the door to the room open.
My father strode over to the side of the bed. He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “How do you feel?”
“Physically, I’m sore and my head hurts, but the pain is easing a little now.”
A frown creased his face. “What in the world were you thinking? You could have been killed.”
“I had no idea I would be in any danger.” I glanced toward the door. “Mom didn’t come with you?”
“She’s in
the hall speaking to Steven.”
“I didn’t think he would be back.” I suddenly remembered my other visitor sitting beside the bed. “I’m sorry, Lisa. You know my father, don’t you?”
“Yes, but it’s been quite a while since the last time we saw each other,” she said and gave him a pleasant smile.
He studied her face briefly. “You’re Lisa Olivier.”
She nodded. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. LaGrange.”
Dad dittoed her sentiment. “I ran into your father a couple of days ago. We agreed to get together this weekend at the Club for drinks.”
“Are you bringing Mom with you?” I asked, giving him a teasing grin.
He laughed. “Of course. She wouldn’t let me go without her.”
As if on cue, my mother waltzed into the room, her angry gaze aimed on my face. She suddenly noticed my visitor seated beside the bed. Her expression immediately changed.
“Lisa, how lovely to see you,” she said.
“Thank you, nice to see you, Mrs. LaGrange.” Lisa smiled at her and rose from the chair. She turned to me. “Susan, I really need to get back to the house, so you take care. Maybe we can get together soon.”
“You can count on it.” I couldn’t blame her for wanting to escape my mother’s wrath. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Seconds after Lisa left, Mom turned her attention to me, or rather cast her ire on me. “I hoped you would have outgrown your predilection for going against the rules of polite society and disgracing your family.”
Her accusation didn’t sit well with me. “How have I disgraced you?”
“By putting yourself in a position to be attacked by some criminal,” she said firmly.
“In case you’re interested, I happened to be inside Steven’s former home and the person who struck me was more than likely someone who belongs to that polite society you’re so fond of.”
“I seriously doubt anyone in our circle would do such things,” she replied with righteous indignation. “As if it wasn’t enough to have your brother’s problem hanging over us, now you. I hope the incident isn’t going to be reported on television or in the newspaper.”
Always the peacemaker, my father interrupted. “Now, Elizabeth, Susan has just been injured. This is not the time to be chastising her.”
She shot daggers at him with her amber eyes. “Charles, you were always much too lenient with both her and Steven. This is why their lives are in such turmoil now.”
“Elizabeth, it’s time for us to leave,” he said sternly. He gave me an apologetic glance.
My mother started to object but changed her mind. “I assume you’ll be released from the hospital tomorrow.”
“I hope so.”
“Get some rest, dear,” she said, saccharin sweet.
Dad came closer and hugged me. “I agree with your mother. Rest is the best medicine for recovery.”
I often wondered if he regretted marrying a woman his family once considered as being from the wrong side of the tracks. When he said he agreed with Mom, I wanted to add, ‘for once in your life,’ but decided that would really be construed as insubordination. That was ugly of me. Yes, I’m going to hell. My mother believed Steven and I had strayed away from ‘family tradition’. Elizabeth LaGrange did have good qualities. Like every parent who didn’t grow up in the lap of luxury, she wanted us to have everything she lacked in her childhood. I couldn’t blame her for wanting the best for her children.
But to her, the term “family values” meant following Dad into the accounting and investment business which neither Steven nor I cared about being a part of, or in my case, being a stay-at-home-mom with two perfect children. According to her, I should also be attending coffees or luncheons with the other wives and playing the part of the loyal wife on the arm of her husband at high society cocktail parties. I guess I really disappointed her. Oh, well. The ache in my head returned and since no pain medication seemed to be forthcoming I would have to tough it out. I took a lot of deep breaths and tried to relax.
Shortly after they exited the room, Steven strolled in and sat in the chair beside the bed. This piece of furniture was getting a lot of use tonight, almost like a game of musical chairs—first Jim, then Steven, next Lisa, then back to Steven again. Hopefully Jim would return and complete the cycle.
I surveyed my brother’s appearance and noted he had shaved and donned clothes which were a lot more presentable than any I’d seen on him in the past. His navy twill trousers and white dress shirt looked fresh from the cleaners. The clean-up encouraged me about his resolve to fight for his own defense. “You look nice,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said. “I decided it was about time.”
“You think?” I even gave him a faint smile. The reflection about my failure to live up to standards set by my parents still lurked in my brain. “Tell me, what did you want to do with your life after college?” I asked.
He looked both curious and annoyed at the question. “I didn’t have murder suspect in mind.”
His cynical response irritated me. “Be serious.”
A rather wistful smile crossed his face. “You know my interest has always been electronics and computer programming and to start my own business along those lines. I was where I wanted to be before Anne died. Well, business-wise anyway,” he added.
For a long time he kept his amazing abilities in the electronic field hidden from our parents who wanted to make sure he followed Dad into the family business and concealed from his high school and college friends in order to not be considered a nerd. Of course he needed those skills in his work with Dad, but he didn’t have any interest in investments or accounting. The fact he used the past tense in speaking about the firm he’d started right before his marriage—without our parents’ blessings I might add—ramped up my worries again concerning his emotional condition.
“Why speak of your business in the past tense? I asked.
“I owe a hell of a lot of money, mostly for credit cards and attorney fees. I’ve considered filing for bankruptcy more than once. So basically I’m shut down.” The weight of his troubles showed in the dark circles under his chocolate brown eyes.
Actually I couldn’t believe he admitted this to me. “What are you living on?”
“Savings, but the money’s just about exhausted now.” Steven looked at me with a curious expression. “Mom must have made some comments about my situation. She really gave me hell out there.”
“Not in so many words. She talked about how you and I always broke the rules of polite society and how Dad had always been too lenient with us. This was why our lives were in turmoil.”
He pursed his lips. “Damn, sounds like she was on a roll. But why did she include you in her tirade?”
“She’s probably upset because I married a cop and not a young investment banker or attorney. Oh, and I’m sure my writing has something to do with her disappointment with me. I don’t spend my time attending social events.” I chuckled, without much humor. “Do you think we were adopted?”
Steven almost smiled. “I doubt it.” He cocked his head slightly. “Did you ever dream you’d be married to cop?”
“Not really, but when I met Jim it was love at first sight,” I said. “Sounds corny, doesn’t it?”
“Not in the least. But you’re ruining your marriage for me. I messed up my life. Nobody forced me to do anything.” He took my hand in his. “Promise me you’ll stop trying to prove my innocence.”
“But you are innocent,” I insisted. “Nobody else is doing a thing to prove it, including you.”
He released my hand and narrowed his dark eyes. “How do you know I didn’t kill Anne?”
The intensity of his tone took me by surprise. “I just know.”
“You don’t know a damn thing about how I lived my life. I’m not innocent, so stop trying to prove otherwise.” Steven stood and left the room without saying another word.
My head throbbed and I couldn’t breathe for a moment. Did
my brother just admit he murdered his wife? He was right about me ruining my marriage by continuing this quest to find the real killer. I needed to let this go and restore Jim’s faith in me. And my writing had also suffered. The Murder at Gentilly Manor file hadn’t been touched in well over a week.
A different blue uniformed aide entered the room carrying one of those tiny pleated paper cups containing pills. I hoped her appearance meant relief from my headache. It did.
“What are these?”
“Just regular Tylenol,” the aide replied. “Doctor Warner wouldn’t prescribe anything stronger.”
I swallowed the two capsules with a drink of water. “Better than nothing, I guess. Thanks.”
“They’ll probably take the edge off. Try to get some rest.” She exited the room, closing the door behind her.
Almost immediately the door opened again and my husband stepped inside the room carrying a vase packed with red roses. His return and the big smile on his face made me extremely happy. The delicate scent of roses filled my nose as he neared me.
“These are for you,” he said, sitting the flowers on the bedside table. “Do you like them?”
“They’re beautiful.” I could feel my eyes tearing.
“Crying is bad for concussions.”
“Did the doctor give you that bit of medical wisdom?”
“He might have mentioned it. You look tired.” He dropped into the chair. “I figured Steven would be back here.”
“He was, but left again about ten or fifteen minutes ago. Before he returned, I got a visit from my parents.”
“Hell,” he said. “No wonder you look worn out.”
“I feel exhausted.”
“I hate to lay more weight on you, but Falcon and Berthelot want to talk to you about what happened and about the charm.”
“You turned it over to them?”
“Yes, but it can’t be used officially in the case because there’s no chain of custody.”
“You mean because the charm wasn’t discovered by an official and catalogued, et cetera.”
“For all they know, you could have just claimed to have found it there.”
“In other words, I did more harm than good to Steven’s case.”