Her Deadly Reunion

by Beth Ziarnik

  “Between you and Brian.”

  “Yes. I no longer cared to go out to bars and drink. Though I invited Brian to church and Bible studies with me, he didn’t want anything to do with my new life, and I couldn’t go back to the life we once knew. He tried to convince me, and I tried to convince him.”

  “That’s all?” He looked puzzled.

  “It was horrible. Straining in opposite directions made us so miserable we finally decided to end our engagement. I gave the ring back to him.”

  “It was a mutual decision?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you regret it?” His soft voice carried an endearing concern.

  “Breaking up with Brian was hard at the time. One of the hardest choices I’ve ever made. But I don’t regret my decision. With Clay, I have so much more. When you meet him, you’ll understand.” She was sure of it.

  “Have you heard from him?”

  “Last night and early this morning.” The memory of his voice still caressed her.

  “Good.” Her father seemed satisfied. “But I still want to meet this young man of yours.”

  She grinned at him. “You want to look him over. Isn’t that what you really mean?”

  He laughed. “You caught me. But you can’t blame me. I want to see for myself whether or not he’s a good match for you.”

  “And you will. Maybe today. Tomorrow for sure.” Please, Lord.

  “Do you have a picture of him? I can usually tell a lot about a man’s character from examining his face.”

  “Is that so? I have some on my phone.” She pulled up the app and showed him.

  “Those are rather small. Do you have anything larger?”

  “In my room. I’ll be right back.”

  Jill hurried through the open hall as Alice entered from the servants’ hall.

  “How is John?” she asked.

  Jill beamed at the nurse. “He’s better and wants to see a picture of Clay.”

  Alice’s brown eyes met hers. “I’m glad your visit with him is going well.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “No need to hurry.” She moved on with a covered tray in her hands.

  As Jill reached for the framed five-by-seven photo on the dresser top, she stopped. The top drawer wasn’t quite closed. When she opened it, her heart sank. Someone had been in her room and searched this drawer.

  Her purse lay at a slightly different angle, its shoulder strap extended to one corner rather than tucked underneath. She picked it up and checked through it. Nothing was missing. Not even from her wallet. She shut her purse within the drawer, resisting the urge to take it with her.

  Whoever had gone through it wasn’t likely to bother it again. What that person expected to find and who the intruder might be puzzled her, but she wouldn’t let the indignity—the violation—intimidate her. She would remain here as long as her father needed her. Go through my purse as much as you care to, whoever you are. I have nothing to hide.

  She left the door to her room open as before and returned to her father, curious as to what he would say when he studied the framed picture of Clay. But when she opened his door, her smile faded.

  Only moments before, he had been sitting up and animated. Now he lay with his eyes closed as Alice placed a damp cloth across his forehead.

  Not again. Lord, what’s going on here?

  Chapter Eight

  Jill hovered near as Alice adjusted her father’s moist compress. “I only left him for a few minutes. How could this happen so quickly?”

  Alice placed her fingers across his wrist, checking his pulse. Frowning deeply, she jotted something in a little booklet and returned it to her uniform pocket before answering. “Did anyone come into this room other than you?”

  “Brian Caldwell was here when I arrived. But he visits regularly, doesn’t he?”

  Alice slipped something under her patient’s tongue and then glanced up. “Yes, but why didn’t we see him go up the main staircase?”

  “He must have used the back stairs.”

  “But why?”

  “All I know is Dad asked him to come and then asked me to leave while they discussed client cases. I didn’t see how I could refuse.”

  Alice frowned but remained silent.

  Jill searched the woman’s face. Why should she care which staircase Brian used, unless … “Oh, you can’t believe that Brian—”

  Putting a finger to her lips, Alice whispered, “Come with me where we won’t disturb John.”

  Alice led her into the adjoining room, far enough away to talk without being heard. “Tell me more about Brian,” she urged as they sat. “You know him?”

  “Brian and I were once engaged.”

  The nurse’s eyebrows rose. A moment later, they drew together as she stared intently at Jill.

  Jill shook her head in disbelief. “Brian didn’t hurt Dad. When I returned after he left, Dad was fine. He was fine the whole time we talked.”

  Alice pressed her lips together. Her worried frown remained. “Just remember, trust no one. Not until we’re sure.”

  Jill’s heart plummeted. Oh, Lord, not Brian.

  “I’m just saying,” the nurse went on, “people aren’t always what they appear to be.”

  “You sound as if you’re sure someone is poisoning Dad.”

  “I believe so. But whoever it is,” Alice said, “may be employing various kinds, making it harder to determine what’s being used.”

  “Then how will we ever find out?”

  Alice glanced into the next room. “We may have to catch the culprit in the act.”

  “I’ll pray that we do.” Jill’s eyes strayed to her sleeping father.

  “Did you give John anything while you were with him?”

  “Of course not.” How could Alice think such a thing?

  “He didn’t ask for a drink?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “When I went in the bathroom to prepare the cold compress, I found an empty glass.”

  “You think someone gave him something to make him sick?”

  Alice raised a brow again, leaving Jill feeling hopelessly naive.

  “What about that glass? Can it be checked for”—it was hard to say such an ugly word—“poison?”

  Alice shook her head. “It’s useless. Someone already washed and rinsed it.”

  “But couldn’t traces be found?” Jill had heard of such things.

  Pushing out her bottom lip, Alice appeared to consider the idea.

  “Maybe it isn’t poison. Could he relapse on his own? Could his visiting first with Brian and then with me have been too much for him?” She should have realized how badly that might have taxed her father’s strength.

  “I’d like to believe you’re right, and maybe you are in this instance, but I’ve seen this sort of thing happen too often since I arrived.” Alice rubbed one hand over the top of the other. “It’s not normal. If John is to get well, we have to find out what’s going on.”

  Jill had to agree. This relapse had come out of nowhere. “Maybe we should make sure he’s never alone and see if he does better.”

  “That might appear too obvious. We don’t want to alert whoever it is, any more than we want to give easy access to John.” Alice stood. “Your long visits with John should help. Now run along and rest so you’re ready to stay with John around one o’clock while I take my lunch break.”

  Jill slipped from the room, restless energy thrumming through her. How would they ever catch the guilty person in the act? When she reached her own room, a slight movement within caught her eye. She jerked to a halt before the open door.

  In the center of the room, Lillie squirmed, her arms wrapped around a lovely poinsettia. She looked at Jill with tortured eyes. “I’ve been waiting. And really, I didn’t touch a thing. Look. I brought you a friend.” Lillie held out the bright red plant surrounded by rich, green leaves. “I thought she might cheer you up. I could put her over here where you can easily see her.”


  Was this a gesture of friendship?

  Jill watched her sister place the plant on a stand beneath a painting of two girls with their hands and foreheads together. From that position, she could enjoy it whether in bed or seated near the windows. “Thank you, Lillie. That’s very kind. Is there something I can do for you?”

  Her sister turned from arranging the poinsettia to its best advantage. Her eyes filled with sorrow. “How is Father?”

  So, Lillie’s reluctance to visit her father had nothing to do with how much she cared for him. She obviously cared deeply.

  “He had a little spell this morning, but Alice said it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I heard.” Her face was pinched with worry.

  “Do you want to see him?” Jill hoped she would say yes.

  Lillie’s hand went to her throat. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. Not without Grandmother. She would never permit it.”

  “But why?”

  “She says I would upset Father.”

  “How?” Jill couldn’t imagine her gentle sister upsetting anyone, certainly not on purpose.

  “She says I’m too much like my mother. Too … fragile.”

  “Fragile?” Odd description. This sister was so vibrant and lively most of the time.

  Lillie looked at Jill with a strange expression. “No one told you, did they? Mother spent most of her married life in a mental institution. Grandmother says I inherited my mother’s weakness, and it’s best if I not visit my father alone while he’s ill.”

  Jill studied her sister. What in the world was she talking about? She appeared perfectly sane.

  “Don’t worry, Jill.” Lillie straightened her shoulders. “Even if Grandmother is right, I’m fine. It hasn’t happened so far.”

  “What hasn’t happened?” The girl was a puzzle.

  “Mother didn’t become ill until I was born. That’s why I’ve decided I will never marry. I will never have children.” Her sister added a decisive nod, her eyes remaining totally innocent.

  “But you might not develop your mother’s problem.” With her sweet nature, Lillie would make a wonderful mother.

  “You don’t know that. You don’t know me.”

  Her serious tone broke Jill’s heart.

  Lillie shrugged. “Please. Let’s not talk about this anymore. When Father is well, I will again see him any time I want.”

  Jill clenched her jaw. People shouldn’t tell Lillie such wicked things. Her sister shouldn’t be afraid to visit her father, afraid to marry and have children. The first chance Jill got, she would ask Alice about the medical threat Lillie lived under and what could be done about it.

  Lillie smiled. “Please don’t worry. I enjoy a good life helping my grandmother with her charity work and keeping busy with my plants. Would you like to see them?”

  Her sister radiated such hope, Jill didn’t have the heart to refuse. She followed Lillie down the stairs and through the dining room to a small room off the south corner. Winter sunshine flooded the small conservatory through long, side-by-side windows. Each window had a white fabric, lace-edged shade. Likely, her sister adjusted them according to the plants’ needs. And what an amazing array of healthy plants sat along the walls and windows. Each rested on its own stand of wicker or metal, splashing colors of red, white, yellow, and blue blossoms nestled in lush greenery.

  Lillie must have exceptional talent, which was more than Jill could say for her own pitiful attempts at horticulture. “Do you care for these by yourself?”

  The young woman nodded, her face glowing with pride. She swept her left hand to take in every plant in the room. “They’re wonderful, aren’t they? I raise most of them for the house, but I also give away a few. Kat borrowed Candy, my red-and-white-streaked poinsettia, to use in her condo for the Christmas season.”

  “You and your sister get along well?”

  “Oh, yes.” Lillie turned away and examined one dark green leaf of a calla lily. “She’s a little nosey and bossy but only because she cares.”

  “That’s good.” Maybe someday Kat would care for her too. She could only hope and pray. “Your plants are beautiful.”

  Her sister beamed like a proud mama. “May I introduce them to you?”

  “Lillie?” Dora stopped abruptly inside the doorway. “Oh, you’re not alone.”

  Jill offered a tentative smile. “Your granddaughter is showing me her collection of Christmas plants.”

  “Ah … well, yes.” She looked past Jill. “Lillie, you haven’t finished decorating the downstairs for Christmas. Don’t you think you ought to?”

  “But I thought you wanted very little decoration this year because of Father’s illness.”

  “We won’t have our usual guests, but we still hope your father will be well enough to join us for Christmas Day. Wouldn’t it be lovely if he found everything on this floor as usual? It might cheer him.”

  Either Dora hadn’t caught wind of her son-in-law’s sudden turn for the worse, or she was attempting to keep her granddaughter occupied with happier thoughts. Jill couldn’t decide which.

  “May I bring a plant to Father’s room?” A plaintive note infused Lillie’s voice.

  Dora frowned slightly while she seemed to consider the request. “I’m sure he would appreciate it, but please ask Alice for permission. She is in charge of your father while he’s ill.”

  Jill stepped back to make herself less visible as her sister asked, “Is he feeling better?”

  “He’s recovering.”

  “May I see him? Please?” Lillie persisted.

  “I’ve just come from his room, dear.” Dora appeared slightly annoyed. “I don’t have time for another visit at the moment. Mrs. Banes will be by soon. We have final plans to make for distributing gifts for children who will spend Christmas at the hospital. In the meantime, why don’t you decorate? You have such a special touch.”

  The whole time the two conversed, Dora had avoided eye contact with Jill, refusing to acknowledge her in any way. But here was the perfect opportunity to enter the exchange. “I would be happy to accompany Lillie while she visits her father.”

  Dora arched her back and lifted her chin. “I would rather you not do that. My granddaughter is my responsibility.”

  Lillie’s hands fluttered until she snatched up a blue poinsettia. “Don’t worry, Jill. I … I can wait. Would you help me with the decorating? That is, if you have the time.”

  Jill couldn’t see how the first floor needed more decorating, but she nodded. “What would you like me to do?”

  Dora flashed Jill a dark look of disapproval before she left them alone, and within minutes, Jill was caught up in Lillie’s enthusiastic plans. For the first time in her life, she was helping decorate her father’s house for Christmas—this first Christmas she would share with her sister who openly welcomed her.

  She began to hum and then sing, “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way …”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Kathryn’s sharp voice drew Jill’s attention in time to see her plop two pieces of luggage on the reception hall floor and march into the music room. With hands on her hips, Kathryn stood over Jill and Lillie who both paused from removing the tissue paper encasing each glass ornament. “Lillie, what’s the meaning of this?”

  Lillie turned to Jill. “We don’t usually trim the tree until Christmas Eve.”

  “We never trim the tree until Christmas Eve,” Kat barked.

  “I’m sorry, Kat,” Lillie said, “but Grandmother wants the decorating finished down here. Since this year is different, I’m sure she meant the tree too.”

  Jill set the ornament in her hands back in its place within the storage box. Here she was, stepping on toes again, and from the anger flashing in Kathryn’s eyes, no apology would be accepted.

  “What are the bags for, Kat?” Lillie asked.

  “I’ve decided it would be best, under the circumstances”—she paused to look pointedly at Jill—“that I stay here for
the next few days.”

  “Well then, you arrived in time to help trim the tree,” Jill said.

  “Grandmother doesn’t feel up to it,” Lillie explained, “so we decided to take care of it ourselves and thought a day early wouldn’t hurt.”

  Kathryn glared at both of them. Her frown darkened into hot anger.

  “Come on, Kat. Don’t be like that. And now that you’re here, you can help. Let’s pretend it’s Christmas Eve.”

  “I plan to unpack my things and then see Dad.” Kathryn grabbed her two bags and stalked away.

  Lillie winced but called after her, “All right, but please come back as soon as you can.”

  Jill blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes as she watched Kathryn stomp up the stairs. Her heart squeezed, and a lump formed in her throat. Her older sister seemed determined to hate her. Winning her over would be quite a challenge.

  Picking up a delicate ornament, Jill joined Lillie, who had already returned to adorning the tree. She searched for just the right pine-scented branch for this special ornament.

  “That was Mother’s favorite,” Lillie said. “Father gave it to her on their first Christmas together.”

  Jill hooked it on a branch, fascinated as it twirled and reflected the lights nestled in the tree. Within its glass globe, a young couple faced each other. The woman with short hair offered a watch chain as a gift. The man offered a beautiful hair comb. No doubt, a rendition of O. Henry’s famous Christmas love story. Her father truly must have loved Lillie’s mother.

  What had gone wrong to lead her father’s family into this tangled mess? The sad circumstances of her birth? And now the threat to her father’s life?

  Even worse. Was it possible that she could somehow be connected with the threat on her father’s life? If only she could share her fear with someone she trusted.

  If only Clay were here.

  Chapter Nine

  The fragrance of jasmine mingled with bougainvillea and drifted on the hot tropical air as Clay stopped short when Noelle met him along one of the garden walkways near Francesca’s house. His jaw tightened as he anticipated the news. “Let me guess. Madam cannot meet with me.”