by Jaden Skye
Alana sat down opposite Cindy and began to drink some coffee as well.
“It’s a bummer losing a patient,” Alana finally said. “After all, Tara and I were together for two months. It got to me. I felt lousy, depressed, still do. I needed to take a few days to myself.”
“I can imagine,” Cindy murmured softly, enjoying the delicious, creamy coffee Alana had prepared. “You didn’t expect her to die?”
“Sure I expected it, sooner or later, I guess,” Alana said quietly. “You both expect it and hope it won’t happen. But usually you don’t work with a patient for so long.”
“Did you think Tara was recovering during that time?” Cindy asked quietly.
“That’s the funny thing about patients in a coma,” Alana was quick on the uptake. “You never know. One day you think they are, the next day you have your doubts.”
“Were you surprised that someone stepped in and killed her?” Cindy turned a corner and put it directly then.
Alana flared up. “I wouldn’t call it killing her,” she objected. “I would say everyone wanted Tara to make it, but obviously someone couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Who?” asked Cindy fascinated.
Alana ignored the question, “And, I wouldn’t call it killing her,” she went on, “because who could say she was even really here in the first place? She went back and forth.”
“Back and forth from where?” A long, slow chill crept up Cindy’s spine.
Alana stared at Cindy. “Back and forth to wherever we go to when our time here is over. When patients are very sick or in a coma, they go back and forth. Everyone knows it, and I see it all the time,” said Alana. “It’s no big deal. When patients can speak, sometimes they’ll tell you that their departed relatives are waiting to greet them when they leave. Some even tell you the day they’ll be leaving.”
Cindy’s stomach clenched and a flash of tears filled her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” asked Alana concerned.
“My sister just died,” Cindy said in a small voice. “She was murdered.”
“My God,” said Alana, “I’m so sorry,” and she extended her hand. “She’ll be back for you when your time comes, honey. Just be a little patient.”
Cindy quickly re-grouped, not wanting to take this off on another track. “Tell me more about Tara’s family, please. You were with them for a long time. Do you think one of them did it?”
“Anything is possible,” said Alana. “The father couldn’t stand to see her laying there like that, her mother wanted her to keep going. The sister and mother seemed pretty close, but the sister has a weird husband. He only came to visit once, didn’t want his wife spending so much time with her sister. I heard him say, let whatever happens, happen, Jenna. It’s no business of yours. Tara brought this on herself.”
“How did Tara bring it on herself?” Cindy asked startled.
“I think he meant because she lived such a rich, fancy, lifestyle, going out on private boats and stuff like that.”
“He was jealous?” asked Cindy.
“He was selfish,” Alana corrected her. “But who knows? I only saw him there once, as I told you.”
“How about Tara’s brother, Hank?” Cindy was eager to hear more.
“He’s a lost kind of guy,” Alana commented. “He sat in the corner most of the time and didn’t talk to anyone. You could see he loved Tara, though. Once when everyone was gone and Owen was in the bathroom, I saw Hank get up and go over to Tara’s bed and stroke her forehead gently. Then I heard him tell her he was there for her, and wouldn’t let anything bad happen.”
“Anything else you heard or saw?” asked Cindy. “Anything that made you wonder?”
Alana put her coffee mug down and dug her elbows onto the table. “The daughter,” she said softly then, almost inaudibly.
“Tell me,” Cindy breathed.
“Tara had a daughter, Loretta, who showed up out of the blue. No one in the family liked her, hardly bothered with her at all. When she came to the hospital she sulked around and wouldn’t say a word to Owen. Seems like she hated him.”
“I wonder why?” said Cindy.
“Actually,” Alana went on, her voice getting stronger. “I heard Loretta yelling at Tara the day she died. She was at the edge of Tara’s bed and yelling, wake up and look at me! I have something I want to tell you! She said that Tara had better do it fast because time was running through her fingers. It freaked Owen out. He jumped up, grabbed Loretta and escorted her right out of the room.”
“Awful,” Cindy breathed.
“I’ve seen stuff like that before,” Alana insisted. “Nerves get strung in a situation like this. Everyone in the family blames each other. Who knows what Loretta wanted to tell her mother?”
“She’s not a suspect though, is she? “Cindy questioned.
“No, of course not,” said Alana. “How can they possibly ever find out who actually put the stuff in Tara’s IV? They can’t. It’s all circumstantial. Let them suspect whoever they want. Owen will get off at trial. It’ll all die down. This is just a stupid circus.”
Cindy had to muster her strength to go forward with the next question. “How about you, Alana? I heard you were fired from another nursing job because of patient negligence.”
Alana looked stunned, as if Cindy had suddenly thrown cold water over her face. She jumped up, her eyes flashing. “How did you hear that? Who told you?”
“It doesn’t matter who,” said Cindy.
“It does to me,” Alana shot back. “It matters a lot. Did Konrad tell you?”
“No, he didn’t,” Cindy assured her quickly.
“I don’t believe you, Konrad must have told you. Nobody else knows,” Alana seemed beside herself.
“I promise you, it wasn’t Konrad,” Cindy jumped up as well.
“You’re lying to me, lying! And I thought he loved me, I really did,” Alana started rubbing her face, wildly.
“I promise you I’m not lying,” Cindy yelled. “You’ve got to believe me. Just tell me what happened at your other job? Why were you fired?”
“That’s why you came down here, isn’t it? To find that out?” Alana peered strangely at Cindy. “You want to know if I did it?”
“I need to know more about what happened at your other job,” Cindy replied honestly.
“I was fired because I can’t make rich, white folks happy no matter how hard I try. I had an old lady who was a patient and did everything for her, from A to Z. It was old age that took her, but her family said it was all my fault. They turned on me. Everyone has to blame someone, don’t they?”
“How exactly did she die?” asked Cindy, suddenly frightened.
“She died of old age, I’m telling you,” Alana’s voice became loud and shrill. “Why can’t you believe me? Why didn’t they?”
“Did she die unexpectedly, as well?” Cindy had to check every angle.
“When does anyone ever expect a person to die? It’s always a shock,” Alana started to yell. “I just happened to be her main nurse, so I was fair game, get it?”
“Nobody in this hospital knows about it, do they?” asked Cindy.
“Except Konrad,” Alana howled. “He hired me despite it, he trusted me from the first minute we met. Why should anyone else know? Am I supposed to live my life under a black cloud?”
“I’m sorry,” said Cindy softly.
“What are you sorry about? That Konrad trusted me, or that the old woman died?” Alana began to quiet down.
“I’m sorry you’ve been in the middle of people dying strangely, over and over again,” Cindy replied.
“Well, don’t be so sorry,” Alana scrambled over to the side of the room and grabbed something laying on a table there. “Here, take this,” she returned and thrust a book into Cindy’s hand. “It’s Tara’s diary. I found it in her bag when she was brought in.”
Cindy felt shaken, looking at it. “You took Tara’s diary?”
“I took it a few days bef
ore she died,” said Alana. “I suddenly wanted to know more about her life, to keep her close to me.”
As Cindy took the diary her hands started trembling.
“You keep it now, you read it,” said Alana. “Read it before her cremation. It’s up to you to get justice for her now.”
Chapter 13
The first thing Cindy did when she returned to the hotel was to call Tara’s family to get Loretta’s number. Isabelle, Tara’s mother, immediately answered the phone.
“This is Cindy, from C and M Investigations,” Cindy quickly reminded her.
“Yes, of course,” Isabelle replied. “I remember you well. It’s good to hear from you. How can I be of help?”
“I actually want to speak to Tara’s daughter, Loretta,” Cindy responded. “Is she still around?”
“Yes, she’s waiting for the cremation before she goes home,” Isabelle replied, not pausing to ask how Cindy even knew about Loretta’s existence.
“May I come to the Villa to see her now?” Cindy asked.
“Loretta’s not staying at the Villa with us,” Isabelle sounded weary. “Naturally, we invited her, but she didn’t want to. That’s how she is. She’s staying at a motel.”
“Which one?” Cindy wanted to go there immediately.
“Loretta wouldn’t tell us,” Isabelle replied,” but I do have her phone number. You can reach her that way.”
Cindy was surprised that Isabelle was willing to give her Loretta’s number so quickly.
“Thank you,” said Cindy, pausing. “And how are you doing? It must be quite a shock for you to suddenly have your granddaughter here with you again.”
“My granddaughter?” Isabelle answered in a haze.
“Yes, it must be quite a shock to see her again,” Cindy repeated, realizing how jarring Loretta’s sudden re-appearance must have been.
“Everything is a shock for us these days,” Isabelle replied slowly. “Loretta hasn’t been part of our life for years and it’s hard to believe that Tara is gone.”
How well Cindy understood what Isabelle was feeling. She softened her tone. “Mattheus and I were surprised not to have met Loretta at the Villa along with the rest of the family,” she commented.
“I never thought of it,” Isabelle sounded slightly nervous now. “Why would you want to meet her? Are you and Mattheus coming to the cremation?”
“Yes, certainly,” Cindy replied.
“Good,” Isabelle replied, as if Cindy and Mattheus were responding to an invitation to a formal dinner party. “At the very least, you’ll see Loretta then.”
Cindy wasn’t sure what to make of it. Did Isabelle really wanted her to meet Loretta, did she expect Cindy to reach her by phone? Cindy wanted to call Loretta immediately and find out.
“I’m really sorry for your loss,” Cindy said once again, wanting to hang up the phone. “Please accept my condolences.”
But Isabelle was not ready to end the conversation. “How are you doing with the case? “Anything new?” she went on.
“It’s too soon to say specifically,” Cindy remained vague.
“We’ve heard the police have developed new evidence against Owen,” Isabelle continued fitfully. “No one knows exactly what it is.”
Cindy hadn’t heard that, was startled. “I don’t know anything about it,” she replied, wondering if Owen knew.
“Will you keep us informed, please?” Isabelle asked, a desperate edge creeping into her tone. “No one that’s taking the time to keep the family informed.”
“Of course I will,” Cindy replied. “As soon as I have something definite and am able to share it with you, I will certainly call.”
“Thank you so much,” once again Isabelle sounded both weary and heartbroken.
Cindy hung up and immediately dialed the number she was given for Loretta. As with Alana, the phone rang and rang with no answer. There was no way to leave a message either. For a moment Cindy wondered if Isabelle had given her the right number. Was the family covering for her? And what possible new evidence could the police have against Owen? Why hadn’t they informed Cindy and Mattheus immediately?
Cindy hung up again and quickly called Mattheus, who was just leaving Dr. Padden’s office.
“Great to hear from you,” he replied, “how’s it going?”
“Too much to say over the phone,” breathed Cindy.
“Listen,” said Mattheus, “I need to check into the police station for an hour or so to do some more research. After that, how about meeting up for some rest and recreation? We’re about due.”
Cindy liked the idea, could use some time to unwind. “Perfect,” she agreed.
“If you like, we could meet at the dock, take a dinner cruise, go over things,” Mattheus suggested.
The idea suited Cindy perfectly. “Yes, let’s do it.”
“The next boat out is in two hours,” said Mattheus. “Meet me down at dock four then.”
*
Cindy was delighted to have a couple of hours before meeting Mattheus. It would give her just the right amount of time to sit down on the balcony and go through Tara’s diary. The idea of what she would find both fascinated and frightened Cindy as she felt as though she were invading Tara’s intimate privacy. But whatever she was feeling, this was a murder case and she had no choice but to plunge in.
Cindy went outside, stretched out on a lounge chair and opened the book gingerly. The first page was dated about six months ago. Cindy wondered if Tara had kept on-going diaries, was this just the latest of them? Cindy also wondered who might have access to earlier ones.
I am so grateful for everything, the first page started, in a light, lilting handwriting. Thank goodness we settled the arrangements with the orphanage and can proceed as we’d planned. As usual, Owen has been wonderful. I have no idea in the world what I would do without him. I tell him that over and over and he says he has no idea what he would do without me, as well. How blessed we are, truly.
Cindy was startled to read that. It was almost as if she were listening to a voice from beyond the grave. The diary had certainly arrived at the perfect moment to help dispel doubts about Owen anyone could have. Cindy felt strange about reading further, but had to. This diary could make the difference between Owen’s being found guilty or innocent.
The next few pages went over simple details of Tara’s life, her meetings, friends, daily routine. Obviously, she was busy from early morning to evening, taking care of thousands of details that applied to the orphanage and also making time for family, friends, yoga, swimming, and catering to Owen’s considerable needs and requests. Cindy’s eye stopped at a paragraph a few pages later that interested her.
Veronica mentions time and again that I fuss over Owen way too much. He’s not your child, Veronica keeps saying. That comment really hurts, and yesterday I told her so. She just answered that men like it better when their wives have some mystery about them. Even after years of marriage men still need to conquer and chase. Really? I said. I told Veronica that’s how she runs her marriage, but it’s not how I run mine. Veronica enjoys keeps Bill on edge, constantly wondering if she loves him. I would never, ever treat Owen like that.
Cindy gulped and read the paragraph again, thinking of her own relationship with Mattheus. She and Mattheus had created a pretty good balance, Cindy decided. She never thought of herself as catering to all his desires, or making him chase and conquer her, either. Tara’s life was different. Her world obviously revolved around Owen. Was there something intrinsically wrong with that? As she read Cindy wondered why Tara and Owen didn’t have any children of their own? She also wondered about what had happened between Tara and her daughter? Cindy kept reading.
I have to get those gifts for mom, Jenna and Hank, was sprawled on top of another page. I don’t want to go to dinner there again, empty handed. Let Owen fuss about it all he wants or say I’m too attached to my family. My family is his family too now. They’re his only family. He’s probably as attached to them as I
am, just hides it, like any man.
Cindy didn’t want to read too much into that. It didn’t sound like a major source of contention between Owen and Tara, just something she mentioned in passing. Most couples had to work out how much time they spent with their extended families. Cindy personally never had to go through that struggle with Clint. He’d loved Ann, and Cindy’s mother had never been available. There had been some friction between Ann and Mattheus though, but now Cindy realized to her horror that the friction was over. Ann was gone. Cindy felt a deep pit in her stomach, thinking of who remained in her family and how distant she was from them all. Mattheus had become Cindy’s real family now.
There was no way Cindy could read the entire diary right now, nor did she have to. A great deal of it simply recorded simple events of the day. It was not relevant to what had happened to Tara, showed no sign of danger up ahead. Cindy browsed through the pages looking for some indication of conflict or concern, either with Owen or anyone else. Very little appeared. The only conflict Cindy found was in the exchanges between Tara and Veronica. Their relationship upset Tara and she talked about it quite a lot. When Cindy found mention of it, she stopped and read the entry carefully.
Veronica keeps saying that Owen is taking advantage of me, one page boldly stated. Nonsense, ridiculous! I’m beginning to think Veronica’s jealous of my relationship with Owen, that she can’t stand to see two people so happy together after all these years. I told her she can enjoy playing head games with Bill all she wants. Owen and I aren’t into that. That didn’t go over so well, either. Veronica said all guys need head games to keep things spiced up, that I’m a fool to think otherwise. I’m not sure how long I can keep this friendship going. It’s upsetting to hear Veronica’s stupid remarks. Does she enjoy playing head games with me, too? Why else would she say that if I don’t stop catering to Owen, he’ll find his excitement somewhere else? That’s a terrible thing to say and I told her so.
Cindy took a deep, stabbing breath. That comment was mean and uncalled for, Cindy agreed as she continued reading gingerly.
