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Come Home Page 7

by Lisa Scottoline


  “Well, somebody had to pay for all that. William made money, but not as much as I did, and he wanted that lifestyle. He wanted to buy cars and trampolines, whatever he wanted, you name it.”

  Megan frowned. “So what’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, but he began to run up huge credit bills and wanted to take loans against the house. I’m not a big spender, and married people are supposed to agree on things.” Jill tried to explain, but it was impossible to explain divorce to a teenage girl, with a head full of The Bachelor. “He wanted more money, so he was always investing in things. He wanted to buy into a biotech start-up, and when I gave him that, he wanted to buy a title insurance company. He was all over the place.”

  “So it was only about money?”

  “Not only about that, but money matters.”

  “He was trying to follow his dream, Mom.”

  “Not exactly.” Jill wasn’t surprised by Megan’s defending William, because she always did, which was why these conversations were no-win. “It’s not ‘follow your dream,’ like American Idol. You can follow your dream, but you have to be practical, too.”

  “So he couldn’t afford to pay for his dream.”

  “No, he didn’t really have a dream. His only dream was being rich, and that doesn’t count as a dream. That’s just plain greed.”

  Megan blinked.

  “Pretty soon I could see a pattern, and I knew it would never end. No matter how much money I gave him, it would never be enough. If I let him, he would bankrupt me.”

  Megan frowned. “So that’s it? That’s all?”

  Jill felt her chest tighten. “One day he asked me for a lot of money, for another business venture.”

  “How much did he want?”

  “$325,000.”

  “Wow.” Megan’s eyes flared, though Jill knew she had no idea how much or how little that was. If it was as much as an iPhone, it was a lot.

  “I said no.” Jill wouldn’t tell her that the money William asked for had belonged to Megan. It was her inheritance, since Gray’s parents had established a small trust for her after his death. Gray hadn’t had any life insurance; they both thought he was too young to die, and in fact, he was. “And when I said no, he asked me to take out a loan for it, and I refused. Then he did something that broke the camel’s back.”

  “What?”

  Jill hesitated, but maybe it was time. “He used to come to the office at night and bring you. He’d wait for me, and you’d play with the toys in the waiting room, then we’d go out to dinner.”

  “I remember, it was fun.”

  “I thought he came by to see me, but he didn’t. It turned out that he was stealing from my office.”

  Megan’s lips flattened, and Jill could see hurt flicker across her face.

  “Petty cash went missing, and drug samples. It took us a long time to notice, because we weren’t talking to each other about it, with all the work we had to do. He did it in small amounts, especially the pads.”

  “He took pads? Like school supplies?”

  “No, prescription pads. People sell them to other people so they can get prescription drugs, illegally.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. You can get as much as fifty dollars for a blank prescription, and they’re usually bought by people addicted to pain meds, like Oxycontin and Vicodin. We didn’t know who was stealing ours, but it was William.”

  Megan fell silent, wounded, for William, and Jill kicked herself for starting the story. She decided not to tell Megan about the money William had taken from her purse, or his trick of using her ATM card before she was even awake, withdrawing amounts too small to notice, until too late.

  “You okay, sweetie?” Jill reached across the table and rested her hand on top of Megan’s.

  “How do you know he stole the pads? You could have been wrong.”

  Jill sighed inwardly. “No, actually, we caught him in the act.”

  “Really?” Megan asked, hushed.

  “He was caught in the basement, taking old pads out of the box. We left them down there, out of the locked cabinet, to catch the bad guy. We even set up a hidden video camera, which was my idea. I never thought the bad guy would be my own husband.”

  Megan set down her fork, stricken.

  “It was a terrible thing he did, embarrassing to me, and worse, it could have ruined me and all of the docs in our group. My colleagues, my friends. We could’ve lost our licenses.”

  “He didn’t have to go to jail, did he?”

  “No.” Jill felt touched, and saddened, that Megan was still concerned for William. “The group didn’t report it, out of kindness to me, but I had to leave the practice and I paid back every penny he took. I was lucky to get work anywhere else, after all the gossip. That’s why I took the job at Pembey Family. They were the only ones who made an offer.”

  Megan blinked. “Do you think he cheated on you?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

  “Really, Mom?”

  “Really.” Jill squared her shoulders. She didn’t bother to explain that the betrayal was worse. The deception was worse. That she hadn’t known what was going on under her own roof, under her very nose, that was worse. “I want to be with a man I can trust and believe in. So I took some time alone, and finally met Sam. End of story. Or beginning.”

  Megan cocked her head, mulling it over. “I think William had a dream, but it wasn’t the dream you wanted.”

  “Okay, we can agree to disagree on that one.” Jill swallowed hard, knowing it was time to stop, if only to save Megan’s feelings. The unsayable thing, the thing she was about to say next, the real truth of the matter, was that Jill didn’t think William ever really loved her, he just married her for her money and to have a mother for his children. But if Jill told Megan that, then Megan would conclude that William had never really loved her, either, that he had only acted as if he had, that she had been used, too. And Jill sensed that Megan couldn’t handle hearing that, despite her middle-school savvy. She was only thirteen, and inside, just a kid.

  Megan was eyeing her. “What’s your dream, Mom?”

  Jill was happy to change the subject, and almost laughed with relief. “You,” she answered.

  Megan laughed, unexpectedly. “No, really.”

  “What? It’s true. My dream is having a wonderful daughter, like you.” Tears came to Jill’s eyes, surprising even her, and she blinked them away. “I never dreamed I’d be so lucky. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

  “But for you, what’s your dream? Like they say, your passion?”

  “Other than you?”

  “Yes.” Megan rolled her eyes, but Jill wouldn’t let go.

  “Honey, someday you’ll understand this, but every mother’s passion is her children, and there’s nothing wrong with that. People don’t say it enough. I see it every day at work, in all the mothers doing everything they can to help their babies get well, in all the panicky calls and emails, in all the things mothers do for their kids.” Jill thought of Padma and her three sons, and her own mother. “Women sacrifice every day for their children, and they love it. They do it without question, second nature. That’s passion.”

  Megan smiled, but still looked searching. “Okay, but before me. Before I was born, what was your passion? Did you have a passion then?”

  Jill thought a minute. “Okay, well, I guess I would say that my passion was helping kids. That’s why I became a pediatrician. I’m a professional mother now.”

  Megan grinned. “Uh-oh. Watch out.”

  “I know, right?” Jill smiled at her, happy they were back on an even keel. “Let me ask you now. What’s your passion? What do you love doing?”

  Megan frowned, slightly. “I don’t know. Is that bad?”

  “No, not at all. You’re still young, and you’ll know when you know. Like love, because it is a form of love. It could be swimming, or becoming a vet. You’re great in the school plays, and your passion can be act
ing or singing. That will be your life’s work. Money isn’t a life’s work. Love is.”

  Megan sighed. “So what are you going to do about Abby?”

  “What do you mean?” Jill had to switch gears.

  “What if she’s right that William was murdered?”

  “She’s not. The police say it’s not murder, just a reaction to the drugs and alcohol. He had some whisky that night, and you can’t mix those.”

  “I remember he liked whisky sometimes, he let me taste it. Ugh.” Megan wrinkled her pretty nose. “I didn’t know he took drugs, though. What drugs?”

  “They found drugs for anxiety and painkillers.”

  “Was he on them when you guys were married?”

  “No, I didn’t think he was, but he was stealing samples and prescription pads. When I confronted him, he said he sold them, so I didn’t think he was taking drugs himself. I was wrong, I guess.”

  “Were those the samples he stole?”

  “No, he stole ADHD drugs, like Ritalin.” Jill didn’t have to explain because Megan knew about a scandal at the high school last year, with kids arrested for selling their Ritalin as a study drug.

  “If you took those drugs with alcohol, do you get a heart attack?”

  “Yes, you can.” Jill picked up her fork and stabbed her salad. “It’s possible, and it’s not suspicious that they did.”

  Megan looked down at her food, untouched, and Jill could see she was struggling.

  “Honey, this talk of drugs and murder is Abby’s way of not accepting that William is gone. The police say it wasn’t murder, and Victoria agrees.”

  Megan looked up, her eyes glistening again. “But I still wish you’d do what Abby wants. Help her figure it out.”

  “Why?” Jill asked, dismayed. “She’s wrong. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  “Then help her figure that out, too. Don’t you love her, anymore?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “She loves you, Mom. She always did. She acted like you were her real mom. She told me once, she doesn’t even remember her real mom.”

  Jill didn’t know what to say. Abby’s real mother had died when she was only four, in a car accident. She’d had money, too, but Jill didn’t want to go there, and this conversation was supposed to be about Megan. “Did that bother you?”

  “No, not at all. You always love it when people love what you love.” Megan smiled. “Like when people say Beef is cute, I love that. I hate people who say he’s old or fat. Abby’s a sweetie, and you know how she is when she gets an idea in her head. She’s like Beef, with his sock, she never lets go. She needs us, Mom. We’re her family.”

  “Are we?” Jill asked, feeling surprised and validated, both at once.

  “Yes, sure, you can’t just kick somebody out of your family. She’s in my family, so she has to be in yours.”

  Jill smiled. She still thought of herself as Abby’s mother, but it came as a revelation that Megan thought of her as family, too.

  “Mom, you say your passion is helping kids. Right?”

  “Yes,” Jill answered.

  “So how can you not help Abby? She’s ours.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Back at home, Jill had changed her clothes and was putting fresh sheets on Megan’s bed, in a house that was empty and felt that way. She had dropped Megan off at Courtney’s to work on an English project until their afternoon practice, and Sam was still in town with his colleague Lee. Jill was doing laundry and other chores, trying to put the memorial service and its aftermath out of her mind, without success.

  Why did you guys really break up?

  Jill felt a twinge, missing Megan. It was too soon to be an empty-nester, but you didn’t have to be a pediatrician to know that the baby birds left before they could fly. She tucked in the flat sheet and made a lousy hospital corner. She had worked in six different hospitals and couldn’t make a decent hospital corner. Even hospitals didn’t make hospital corners anymore. The irony was lost on Beef, who watched her from between his paws, resting his head on his dirty tube sock.

  She’s like Beef, with his sock. She never lets go.

  Jill reached for the duvet cover, an old one she’d gotten from the closet. It usually took her two or three tries to put on a duvet cover, and it was a chore she hated. She’d rather change a bedpan than a duvet cover.

  Brrring! Her cell phone rang, and she slid it from her pocket and checked the number, in the Philly area code. She answered it, “Jill Farrow.”

  “I’m so sorry about what happened.” It was Abby, her voice thick, and Jill set down the duvet cover, feeling for her.

  “How are you, honey? How was the service?”

  “Um, okay. I’m okay.” Abby sniffled. “I’m glad you didn’t change your phone number. Am I still A on your speed dial?”

  Jill felt a stab of guilt. “You were until I got a new phone, but that erases all the speed dials. Where are you, honey?”

  “Home.”

  “Alone?”

  “Pickles is here.”

  Jill sank onto the bed, hating that Abby was all by herself after William’s service, sitting in the house they’d shared.

  “Jill, I’m so sorry for what I said, accusing you of cheating on Dad. I know, deep inside, that you didn’t, but Dad said it and Victoria went along, and I didn’t want to think he’d lie. I mean, he’s all I have. Had.”

  “I know, don’t worry. Did you have a reception afterwards?”

  “We did, but I left. Victoria’s so mad at me. She’s still at the restaurant. It was Brian and all her friends anyway.”

  “Who’s Brian?”

  “Brian Pendle. He was at the service. Tall and cute, with glasses.”

  Jill remembered. “Megan said he was her boyfriend.”

  “Not yet. He has a girlfriend studying abroad, but Victoria’s working on him. He’s a lawyer in New York, and she’s crushing like crazy on him. The more unavailable the guy, the happier she is.”

  Jill let it go. “Did you eat?”

  “Not yet. I’ll get take-out, I’m obsessed with this Chinese place near us. The one time I didn’t call and order, they called me to make sure I was okay. It was the day Dad died.”

  Jill shuddered.

  “What are you and Megan doing?”

  “Everybody’s out, and I’m making the bed somebody barfed on.” Jill was trying to make Abby laugh, and she did, chuckling.

  “Oh no, yuck, sorry. Does Megan hate me?”

  “No. Megan loves you, and so do I.”

  Abby fell silent. “I don’t mind being here alone. I have Pickles and I decided I’m going to live here on my own, from now on. Victoria says I can’t do it, but I know I can. She wants to sell the house, but I want to stay.”

  Jill knew it was the grief talking. “It’s too soon to make any decisions, sweetie. See how you feel in time.”

  “I can’t, Victoria’s already talking to the lawyer. We’re in a fight.”

  Jill sank onto the bed. “Well, maybe she’s right, honey. It costs money to live in a house. You have to pay the mortgage, every month.”

  “No, there’s no mortgage. The house is paid for.”

  “That’s not possible.” Jill and Sam were a decade away from paying off the house, and together, they made good money.

  “Yes it is, Dad told me.”

  Then Jill figured it had to be a small mortgage. “But you’ll have living expenses. Can you afford them, waitressing?”

  “I quit.”

  “What?” Jill checked her tone. Criticism was the last thing Abby needed today. “Why?”

  “I want to find out who killed Dad. I’m going to do it, whether you help me or not.”

  Jill let that go, too. “What will you do for money? Did your Dad have life insurance?”

  “Yes, Victoria said there was a policy for a million dollars, and we’re the beneficiaries, and I saved about three thousand dollars, so I’ll be fine.”

  Jill relaxed, rea
ssured. She’d made William get life insurance when the girls were young, though they hadn’t had a million-dollar policy. It seemed odd.

  “Jill, can you tell me how to set up a budget? How to run the house, like Dad did?”

  Jill saw room to strike a bargain. “Yes, but if I do, you have to do something for me. I want you to meet with a psychologist, a really great woman. ”

  “A shrink?” Abby moaned.

  “You’ve had a terrible loss, and there’s no shame in therapy. I had plenty after my first husband died. Give it a chance is all I ask. She’ll see you anytime this week.”

  “Okay,” Abby answered, after a moment.

  “Thanks, sweetie.” Jill felt a wave of relief.

  “So wanna come over? You said you were alone. We can order Chinese.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Why not?”

  Jill felt her mood lift. She had answered all her patient email, returned all their phone calls, and done the laundry. She was going to take a swim, but she could do that anytime. “Okay, sounds good,” she said.

  But Jill didn’t know what she was in for.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was almost dark by the time Jill got to Philly, surprised to find that William had lived in one of the best parts of Society Hill. His house was a stunning contemporary column, with a concrete-and-glass façade, and she climbed the steps in astonishment, ringing the bell. Abby opened the door in her flowing boho dress, sweeping into Jill’s arms.

  “Jill, I’m so glad you came.”

  “Me, too, sweetie.” Jill let her go, gesturing at the modern façade. “This is your house? It’s amazing.”

  “Now you know why I want to stay. Come in.” Abby moved aside, and Jill followed her through an all-white entrance hall to a dramatic living room, with walls of massive glass sheets and beige leather sectionals, arranged around a state-of-the-art TV and entertainment center.

  “Abby, where did your Dad work?” Jill asked, mystified. She set her purse down on the couch. “He wasn’t still a drug rep, was he?”

  “No, he was doing really well on his own, making investments with his friend Neil.” Abby smiled, with pride. “Dad has a Mercedes, and he bought Victoria a BMW, so she could drive back and forth to visit us. He got me the old Datsun, you saw, but it was all I wanted. She’s a rescue car.”

 

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