Killer Tied

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Killer Tied Page 17

by Lesley A. Diehl


  Okay. So now I was the bad guy, and Jerry was her knight in shining armor, here to rescue her. I didn’t care. I wanted to ensure she didn’t bolt again, both for her own safety and because she was our ticket to finding her mother.

  Jerry and Eleanor walked arm and arm into the diner, Jerry turning to give me a dirty look—eyebrows drawn together, eyes dark with disapproval. And then he winked. Good old Jerry. Maybe this time he’d be an asset.

  “So you see, Eleanor,” Nappi explained to her as he patted her hand in a fatherly way, “it’s unlikely that the woman who was in Hopkins when you were a kid was Eve’s mother, even though she used Eve’s mother’s name.”

  We had chosen a booth by the window. Eleanor sat across from Nappi and me, Jerry at her side. He had an arm draped over her shoulders.

  Eleanor looked into Nappi’s face as if she could determine from his expression whether he was telling her the truth. She seemed to want to believe him, but that meant she would have to accept that her mother had lied to her. Eleanor was having none of that.

  “I know that’s what you think, but my mother knew everything about Eve’s childhood, down to details about Eve’s birthday parties when she was little.” She turned to me with a frown on her face. “Not that you’ll believe me on this, but she told me you had a teddy bear named Teddy.”

  So did almost every kid my age, I thought, but since I had given up trying to convince Eleanor that we didn’t share a mother, I let it go and played with a sugar packet. Finally I ripped it open and dumped it into my tea, along with the three I’d already added. This pregnancy seemed to be giving me a sweet tooth. No cole slaw and ribs for this gal. I wanted to devour an entire chocolate cake and follow it with a lemon meringue pie.

  The expression on Nappi’s face said he was about to give up convincing her the woman in Hopkins wasn’t Mary Appel.

  “I don’t get it,” said Jerry. “Why would Eleanor’s mother use the name Mary Appel if she wasn’t Mary Appel?”

  I wanted to jump across the table and shake him for taking Eleanor’s side, but then it occurred to me that maybe he was just playing dumb, something Jerry was good at. His question opened the door to further explanation, one Eleanor might just buy. If not, she needed to hear it.

  Okay, I’d give it yet another try. I explained what I had worked out when in Selma’s office. “It was to protect her. Your grandfather, whom you’ve never met, paid for her stay there. I think he knew she was in danger from someone, perhaps—”

  Nappi didn’t let me finish. “Perhaps from his family. They can’t have been happy that he had a child out of wedlock. I think the poor man rethought how he had treated his daughter and decided to help her by having her stay at a private, well-respected facility.”

  “What I don’t understand is how he found her,” I said. “Irene thought she was dead, so he didn’t learn about her through Irene.” I gave the container holding the pies and cakes a longing look.

  Eleanor had listened without commenting, but now she said, “Who’s Irene?”

  “Well, that’s the good part of our not having the same mother. You have a grandmother who I know will be thrilled to meet you.”

  “But I already have Grandy,” she said.

  I gritted my teeth in frustration, trying to control myself, but I couldn’t help saying, “Grandy is mine. You get Irene, and that’s that.” It was a mean thing to say to someone who was grieving the loss of a father to murder and suffering from confusion over her mother’s past.

  Jerry, Nappi, and Eleanor gave me startled looks, then Nappi came to my defense. “Eve’s right. You’ll still have Grandy. You’re related. You’re just not her granddaughter.”

  “So, is Irene as nice as Grandy?” asked Eleanor.

  “Nicer,” I rushed to assure her. What I didn’t share with her was my suspicion that as nice as she was, she hadn’t come clean about her daughter’s past. When I got a free moment alone, I thought I should call her so we could have a heart-to-heart, but then I nixed that idea. Heart-to-hearts when it came to the secrets Irene was keeping to herself were meant to happen face-to-face.

  “So, when do I meet her?” asked Eleanor.

  At long last we had broken through her stubborn insistence that we were sisters.

  “Not that I believe she’s my grandmother, but she is a relative, I guess.” Eleanor raised her chin in triumph.

  “Fine, then. Let’s go back to the hotel and pack. We need to make the evening flight to West Palm.”

  Nappi stopped by my room before we left for the airport.

  “We haven’t had a chance for a moment alone to talk,” he said. “But first, sit down and let me take a look at you. I promised Grandy and Sammy I’d take good care of you. You look exhausted.”

  I sank onto the bed. “I am, but it’s more the emotional ups and downs that are tiring me. I’ve pretty much resolved my own doubts about my mother, but then there’s Eleanor and her insistence that we share the same mother. It’s so aggravating dealing with her, but I try to remind myself that she’s without a father now and her mother’s location is at best in flux.”

  “You see now that Eleanor’s story about your mother is total fabrication, right?”

  I nodded. “At this moment that’s what I believe, but then the doubts come flooding back. I know it’s because I want to believe my parents are not gone, but ….” I sighed and rubbed my hand across my forehead.

  “If they are not dead, then what are you left with? A deceiving grandmother, a crazy mother, and an abusive father. You can see what having a mother with emotional problems has done to Eleanor.”

  Nappi’s putting it that way swept the doubts from my mind. My loving parents were gone. Grandy had raised me. I’d turned out just fine except for my relentless need to snoop into criminal matters.

  “Nappi, everyone feels sorry for Eleanor. I do, too, most of the time, but she can be stubborn, can’t she?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “All our information says her mother abused her emotionally, maybe even physically. Maybe her need for us to share the same mother is a way for her to convince herself that although her mother was a bad mother, she was also my bad mother—not that Eleanor deserved to be abused by her.”

  Nappi looked down at the floor, considering what I had said.

  “That’s possible, but we were told her mother often compared the two of you, saying what a wonderful daughter you were and how awful Eleanor was. That’s not two abused children sharing the abusive mother, is it?”

  “No, but maybe Eleanor doesn’t see it quite that way. She’s just focusing on pleasing her mother, helping her find me, the lost daughter. Eleanor might think that would make her mother love her more.”

  Nappi began to pace the room, then stopped abruptly. “It’s more likely that finding you means less love for Eleanor. Bringing the two of you together might not get Eleanor the love she wants. Unless you continue to behave as you have.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t believe Eleanor and her mother’s story. If you meet up with Eleanor’s mother and still deny she’s your mother, then aren’t you the bad daughter in both their eyes?”

  “I suppose so. So what?”

  “You’d need to be punished for not recognizing your own mother.”

  “Punished? How? By whom?”

  “Maybe by Eleanor. Or perhaps by her mother. That she is Mary Appel is Brenda’s delusion, one she convinced Henry and her daughter to believe. We know the woman has had mental problems most of her life. If the diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenic given her at Hopkins is correct, then the woman is capable of violence.”

  “As in killing her husband?” I asked.

  Chapter 18

  Nappi sat down beside me on the bed and took my hand in his. “I know you’re going to try for a meeting with Eleanor’s mother, but I think it would be best that you not see her alone.”

  “I’m sure Eleanor will want to be with me.”


  “I don’t think that’s safe either. We’ve never met the mother, but we know her history, and I’m not certain Eleanor doesn’t share some of her mother’s paranoid tendencies.”

  I nodded. “She thinks I want to tell Frida where ‘our’ mother is hiding.”

  “There’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “I met with that law firm that hired my buddy Freddie to help locate Eleanor’s mother.”

  “Good. So now we have a name.”

  “No name. My powers of persuasion failed me. My contact at the firm has been let go. I think Freddie let the firm know I would be paying them a visit, so they cleaned house and removed my snitch.”

  “We still have ways of finding out the identity of the family. I’m sure the police will put pressure on the accounting firm that did the Hopkins audit. That should give us a lead.”

  Nappi smiled, “Why not give your friend Selma a call before we go to the airport? It might be nice to hear how she fared with the authorities.”

  I considered his suggestion and decided Selma wouldn’t want to hear from me again, not ever again. So I called her father.

  Dr. Sandhurst’s voice dragged with fatigue on the phone, but he understood my need to know what had happened. “The police contacted the accountants, who informed him that one of their employees involved in the Hopkins audit was new to the position. They gave the authorities his name and said he had not showed up for work after the Hopkins job. Further investigation revealed that he doesn’t exist; his references are phony, as are his education and his home address. I’m sorry I can’t give you more, Eve.”

  “I understand. How did things go with the Hopkins board?”

  “We meet with them this evening. I assume Selma will be fired.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  I heard his deep sigh. “She brought it on herself. I could try to intervene with some of my friends on the board, but I think I’ll let her be the grownup on this one.”

  “She’ll do just fine.” I didn’t have any reason to believe that, but I felt sorry for the man.

  “By the way, the police would like to talk with you at some point. They asked where you could be found, and I said I didn’t know your whereabouts. I assume you’d like to follow through on what you have about Mary Appel and not be bothered tying up loose ends just for the sake of Selma and me.”

  “I’ll give them a call from Florida.”

  “Oh, is that where you are now? Fast trip home, then.”

  I left it at that and wished him well.

  “Another dead end.” I shared with Nappi what I had found out about the auditing firm. “Let’s get going. I’m eager to get back to Florida and have a talk with my Great-Aunt Irene.”

  I wanted to go home for other reasons, more important ones. I missed the boys, I missed Sammy, Grandfather, Grandy, Max, Madeleine, David, their twins, and my friends. I missed my family. There was nothing I would miss about Connecticut, which had been my home for so many years, yet I needed to make one more stop before we went to the airport.

  It took me more than fifteen minutes to locate the family gravesite at the cemetery. I hadn’t visited here for years, and I assumed I would not visit again for a long time. Sabal Bay was now my home. My parents’ bodies were not buried in this cemetery. No bodies had been found to be buried—something I knew would, despite everything that is rational, haunt me forever. Even if they were, it was more important to hold my memories of them close and not the location of their remains. The site was at the crest of a hill close to an old oak tree. The marker read, “Mary and Josh Appel, together in Love,” and gave the years of their births and the date of their drowning. I had nothing to place on the grave, so I touched the marker and said goodbye, thanking them for being the wonderful parents they were to me and for handing me over to the care of Grandy. I thought in passing that Eleanor had the opportunity to be reunited with her mother and to be introduced to her grandmother, and I hoped that might turn out well for her.

  Nappi, as if reading my thoughts, said, “Making good out of that mother-daughter bond might prove difficult.”

  “But worth a try,” I said. “Psychiatry has come a long way in recent years. There’s hope for both of them.” Perhaps the help they needed would be found outside of a prison’s walls and in the arms of what family Irene could provide.

  I understood truth was not a psychiatric cure, but it might serve as light for the dark corners of the human psyche and warmth for a family in deep pain. It was a necessary start for healing. Could I convince Irene of that? Family secrets began with Irene, and she handed them down to her daughter, who turned them over to Eleanor. Delusions from a twisted mind or convenient stories to escape the consequences of bad choices, secrets, and lies could no longer stand if anyone had a chance at happiness. I would begin with Irene. After I’d hugged my family members.

  One of Nappi’s men had delivered an SUV to the airport in West Palm, leaving the keys to it at one of the car rental desks. Eleanor and Jerry sat in back, while Nappi and I took the front seats, Nappi driving. No one had much to say on the way up the Beeline Highway to Sabal Bay. I noticed the highway had been widened to four lanes all the way from West Palm through Indiantown. I guess that’s progress, but I missed the reeds, water lilies, water hyacinth, and water lettuce that dotted the surface of the standing water and small canal, and the wading birds—herons, egrets, and ibis—as well as turtles and a few small alligators that called the waters home. Now the canal had been widened and straightened, and organized plantings of fancy palms—not the wild-growing sabal palms—and other plants from the large nurseries in the area adorned the water’s edge and the roadside. Neat rows of sod had replaced the unruly weeds along the road. It looked so organized, so groomed, and so uninteresting. Wild was becoming passé.

  Nappi dropped me off at my house, where Sammy awaited me, having taken the afternoon off from his job at the hunting reserve.

  “Grandy is at the store and said she’d mind it the rest of the afternoon. She also offered to make dinner tonight for all of us,” Sammy told me as he held me in his arms. Eating was high on my agenda of things to do, and even more so since I was eating for two, but Sammy’s news about dinner hardly moved my “oh goodie” meter. I was more interested in how good his body felt close to mine. I snuggled my head into his neck and nipped at his ear.

  “I guess you’re hungry now,” he said, missing my intention in the way so many smart but naive men did around women.

  “Oh, Sammy. Forget the food.” I grabbed him by his belt buckle and pulled him into the bedroom. His eyes opened wide and then darkened in that sexy way they did when we made love. Yep. He got it.

  Everyone crowded into my living room to give Grandy command of the kitchen, where she fried up a mess of speck and potatoes for dinner. With the accompanying cole slaw, it was just what I wanted following my afternoon of “exercise” with Sammy. Two of my sons tugged at me to get my attention and be the first to tell me about the upcoming rodeo. They were thrilled I was back to see them perform.

  Jason told me he had roped his calf and taken it to the ground each time during practice today.

  “And what about you, Jeremy?” I asked my youngest.

  “He missed all five times,” said Jason before Jeremy could reply.

  Jason loved to tease his younger brothers. Jerome usually ignored him, but Jeremy was most often hurt at not being able to keep up with the older two. This time, however, he smiled and said, “Yeah, but you fell off your horse the second time out.”

  Jason stuck out his tongue at his brother.

  “What’s going on with Jerome?” I asked the boys. Jerome sat on the couch with Grandfather, watching something on television. By the way his eyes darted around the room, it was obvious he wasn’t paying much attention to the program. I also was surprised he didn’t rush forward with his brothers to tell me about rodeo practice.

  Jason shrugged and joined Grandy in the kitchen. He wa
s avoiding answering my question, so I turned my attention to Jeremy, who wouldn’t meet my gaze.

  “Okay. What’s up?” I insisted.

  Jeremy screwed up his face as if he was going to cry. I shook my head. “Tell me. I’m not going to punish you for the truth.”

  “Jerome didn’t come to rodeo practice today.”

  I shot a quick look at Jerome. His gaze caught mine, and he slid off the couch and came over.

  “You didn’t go to practice today. Weren’t you feeling well?” I asked.

  “Uh, I had a stomachache.”

  I knew he was lying.

  “He had the same stomachache the other day. He missed practice then too,” said Jeremy.

  Jerome’s face reddened, and he shot his brother an angry look. Something was wrong. I was about to take him to one side to get to the bottom of it when Grandfather intervened.

  “Jerome has had something on his mind, I think,” said Grandfather, “but he wants to tell me all about it after dinner tonight.”

  Jerome gave Grandfather a relieved look.

  “Is that right?” I asked. “Will you talk to Grandfather? We don’t want you to carry whatever is going on by yourself. We’ll help.”

  “I’m not sure anyone can help, but I’ll try to talk about it.”

  “If you’re not feeling well, we can take care of that, and if it’s something that’s worrying you, Grandfather is the best at helping with that.”

  He gave me a tiny smile, then he and Grandfather returned to their seats on the couch, where Grandfather turned off the television and the two of them began talking. I caught a few words and realized Grandfather was discussing fishing with Jerome. Max, hearing the word “fishing,” joined them.

  I wondered what was bothering Jerome. I was certain it was not an upset stomach. He was so keen on participating in the rodeo that he would have tried to rope a calf even if he was suffering from appendicitis. It wasn’t a physical ailment. It was something else. Grandfather would know how to deal with this, and he would let Sammy and me know how we could help. I wondered if Sammy had noticed anything while I was gone.

 

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