“A physical fight?” Sam asked.
“No, just yelling and arguing. Phoebe made plans for Caitlin to go to this private boarding school in Virginia and Caitlin’s saying she won’t go.”
“Well, I don’t want to get in the middle of that,” Sam said. “Do you know what Phoebe’s schedule is? Was she planning to leave today?”
“No,” Tab said with an edge in his voice. “And it’s a good thing because Caitlin’s really digging her heels in. Phoebe’s not planning to leave until tomorrow afternoon. She says she has to get some sleep because she’s got jet lag. She came down here in a rental limousine with a chauffeur and she’s staying at Hilliard House. I hope she’ll take Caitlin over there with her.”
“That would probably be a good thing,” Sam said. “You go look after your grandparents, and I’ll check in with you later. Let’s give Caitlin and her mother time to work it out.”
“And Sheriff Bailey,” Tab said. “I really appreciate everything you did yesterday. I’m sorry I caused so much trouble.”
“It’s been a bad week all around,” Sam said. “Don’t worry about it. Just hang around town a few more days if you don’t mind.”
Sam put the phone down and turned to Hunter who was offering him some cookies.
“You know,” he said, taking four at once. “We have a wonderful life.”
“I know,” she said, smiling. “What’s going on at the House of McFall?”
Sam explained what Tab had told him, and Hunter said. “Poor kid. I know she’s a mess, but it sounds like her mom’s trying to get rid of her. She must really feel like her whole world is caving in.”
Bethie, who was playing a game on her laptop, looked up and said, “Maybe she ought to try behaving herself.”
Sam’s cell phone buzzed before he could respond. It was a return call from Skeet Borders.
“Skeet,” he said. “I’m not getting anywhere trying to reach Declan Reeves on the phone, and his dodging me is making me think this ought to be face-to-face anyway. I want to drive up there early tomorrow and catch him when he arrives at work, and I need you with me in case I decide to take him into custody.”
“What time?” Skeet asked.
Chapter 43
At the Magnolia County Medical Center Augusta Wren was awake with a headache and a young doctor was expecting her to answer silly questions.
Her head felt too heavy to lift. She reached her right hand upward to touch her head and stopped, seeing that there was a needle in her arm. She was in the hospital. She could see that, but she couldn’t remember coming to the hospital,
“Do you know your name?” the doctor asked.
“Augusta Penfield Wren.”
“Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”
“Two.”
“What month is this?”
“January.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“In the hospital, of course. Do I have pneumonia? Deb said it could go into pneumonia. Is that what I have?”
The doctor didn’t answer. He studied her carefully.
“Where’s my daughter?” Augusta asked. “I’m sure she was here a few minutes ago. I heard her voice.”
The doctor seemed satisfied.
“I’ll get her,” he said, smiling. “Mrs. Wren, you’re doing wonderfully. Now I want you to rest and not try to move around. You need to try to keep your head still.”
“What’s wonderful about knowing what month it is?” Augusta asked. “Can you get somebody to get this mess out of my arm, and take out the catheter. Those things can cause infections. I can get up and go to the bathroom.”
“Just take it easy,” the doctor said with a smile. “I’m going to get your daughter, and we’ll be moving you to your own room shortly.”
When Taneesha arrived, the whole family was jubilant.
“She’s got her wits about her,” Augusta’s son Vincent said, as he stepped around a young man who was pushing a dust mop down the hall. “She recognized us all.”
“Did she say what happened?” Taneesha asked.
“No. The doctor said to try not to upset her and that she wasn’t sure how she got to the hospital. He said sometimes people don’t make memories of what happens right before they’re knocked unconscious. You know, like in a car wreck.”
Marietta came out of her mother’s room and hugged Taneesha.
“Mamma’s back,” she said. “Smart as ever! She just told me to go home and bring her something fit to eat. She even asked who was looking after Mr. Barnard.”
Taneesha found a quiet place near the nursing station to call Sam.
“I’ve got wonderful news,” she said, “Augusta Wren is coming around and knows her family and seems to have her wits about her. She hasn’t remembered what happened to her, but she does remember having the flu, and she asked about Mr. Barnard and who was looking after him. She’s sleeping again, now, and they said she gets tired easily. They don’t want her upset. What do we do next?”
“Tell the family to keep it between them that she’s awake and communicating,” Sam said. “She ought not to have any visitors but immediate family and if one of them isn’t going to stay through the night, call Aaron to sit there.”
“Right,” Taneesha said.
“But, I already talked to Miss Pink,” Marietta said when Taneesha brought up keeping Augusta’s recovery quiet. “She was so happy. I talked to Tab, too. I hope that’s all right. Should I call back and tell them not to tell anybody?”
“I called our pastor,” Augusta’s son Vincent said.
Kenyatta spoke up. “I called my two best friends.”
Taneesha smiled and shrugged. Clearly, the cat was out of the bag, and there was no stuffing it back in.
“We’ll just keep an eye on things,” she said. “She ought not to have any visitors except family, and I mean none.”
“That’s fine,” Marietta said. “She doesn’t need the commotion anyway.”
Chapter 44
Tarquin Greathouse was on his cell phone in the break room.
“Hey,” he said to Lucasta. “You know that lady who works for the McFalls—the one who got hit on the head that they asked you about? Well, she’s coming around, knows her family and everything. I heard the doctor tell the nurses that she was oriented times four. That means to time, place, person and situation.
There was a long silence at the other end.
“Lucasta are you there? Tarquin asked.
“You know,” Lucasta said in a dreamy voice, “I knew it was you when the phone rang, and I was half expecting to hear some good news. I dreamed last night that I was swimming upward in a dark pool, or maybe it was the ocean, and suddenly, I saw the light above me. I must have been connecting telepathically with Augusta Wren.”
“Yeah, sure,” Tarquin said, raising his carefully plucked eyebrows. “Well, I just thought I’d let you know. There’s something I need to talk to you about, but not on the phone. In person.”
“Call before you come,” Lucasta said.
“I just drove by Hilliard House,” Deb McFall said, coming back into her kitchen, where Pink and Barnard McFall were eating ice cream. “Phoebe’s limousine is there now.”
“Did she take Caitlin with her?” Pink asked.
“I have no idea,” Deb said. “But at least they won’t be screaming in your house.”
“Well, we ought to go home,” Pink said. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have just left without Caitlin. They probably got it all worked out. And oh, Deb, we had the most wonderful news from Marietta Johnson a while ago. Augusta’s talking and making sense, and she knows all her children by name. She even asked who was looking after Barnard. They think she’s going to be fine.”
“Does she remember what happened to her?” Deb asked.
“No,” Pink said. “T
he doctor told Marietta that she might never remember the last things that happened before she got hurt that way, and not to trouble her with it for now. Anyway, the crisis is past, and Marietta said she was going to send her brother Vincent over to talk with us later this afternoon about helping out for a while. She says he’s a good cook, and he has experience in hospitals and nursing homes.”
When Tab came back from taking his grandparents home, Deb looked up from the kitchen table where she was still sitting with the groceries unpacked, and said wearily. “You know when I married your father, I said ‘for better or worse.’ I didn’t know that meant even after he left me and married two other women and died.”
“You’re a saint,” Tab said. “Why don’t I pour you a glass of wine?”
“Guess what?” he said when he handed her the wine. “Phoebe did leave Caitlin at the house, and Caitlin’s barricaded in her room. And I need to go back over there and be with them when Grandma Pink talks to that Vincent guy. I want to check him out myself. I hope he can spend the night tonight. If he can’t, I’d probably better stay there myself.”
At Hilliard House, Robin Hilliard studied Phoebe Baird. She was holding a cup of Earl Gray tea with nervous hands, taking occasional tiny sips. Robin wondered why she hadn’t brought her daughter back with her since she had asked for a room with two beds, in addition to the room for her chauffeur.
She was an elegant woman, dark-haired with a few strands of gray, dressed in wool slacks and a cashmere sweater. She had tossed her mink coat across the back of her chair.
Her accent was decidedly not southern, and from what he remembered of Buzz McFall, it was hard to imagine the two of them as a couple.
Colin was making her an omelet and some toast, which she assured him was all she could possibly eat. She seemed distressed and exhausted, but she was chattering on about safe topics.
The chauffeur who had come with the rental limousine was a careful driver she said, and he didn’t try to be entertaining. She added that she thought it was a little bonus for him to have a room at Hilliard House. He had gone out to find some dinner on his own after waiting in front of the McFall house for so long.
Colin asked how she had wound up making her home in Spain.
“I never meant to stay in Barcelona permanently,” she said, “But then I met Juan. Juan Bonaventura. Can you believe such a beautiful name? Anyway, he’s so different from most American men—so cultured. He loves art and music. And history. He would be fascinated with this grand old house. Of course, he speaks English beautifully, and I’m still learning Spanish.”
Colin smiled and turned the omelet out on a china plate.
“So,” Robin asked. “Is your daughter happy about going to Briar Ridge?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Phoebe said with a wry smile, “She’s got it in her head that she wants to stay in Atlanta, but you know there’s no option of that. It might be different if she and Sabrina had been congenial and if Sabrina had stayed, but, well…”
“Sabrina stayed here for a few days,” Colin said.
“Oh, she did? What’s she like?” Phoebe asked. “I heard she was very pretty and young.”
“Very pretty and very young,” Robin said. “She seemed nice. Like a small town girl. We got the impression that she just wanted to be back with her family. Her brother and sister-in-law came down, too.”
“Well, I do wish she and Caitlin had hit it off,” Phoebe said. “I thought they might since Sabrina was so young, but I don’t suppose that she felt that it was up to her to look after a teenaged stepdaughter once Buzz was gone.”
“Could she just go back to Spain with you?” Colin asked, and Robin ducked his head to hide his grin. Colin was always the one to ask the big, obvious and intrusive question as if it were just conversational.
“Oh my goodness, no,” Phoebe said, almost flinching. “Juan’s children are grown, you know, and he was alone for a long while after his first wife died. He loves his tranquility. He listens to music and reads a great deal. The truth is that he can hardly bear his own grandchildren romping around. And Caitlin is, well, she’s difficult at times, and she can be very outspoken.”
“A typical teenager,” Robin said.
“Well, no, not exactly,” Phoebe said, stabbing her omelet with her fork, and giving them both a beseeching look. “She can behave badly.”
“I really can’t manage her,” she suddenly blurted out. “I think Buzz could, but she’s just incorrigible with me. And Briar Ridge would be so good for her. They have rules, and they keep the girls very busy, but they’re also very caring with the boarding students. “
Robin nodded, unsure what to say.
“I went there myself,” Phoebe went on. “I’m not sending her someplace I don’t know. I had to move heaven and earth to get her in on such short notice, and they’re already arranging for grief counseling since her father died and all of that. I made a substantial gift to the building fund, too. I’m not trying to do a bad thing to her. I’m doing the best I can. But I really can’t manage her. Juan would be turning her out on the street the first time she talked back to him.”
“That really is a problem,” Robin said. “Maybe she just needs a little time to adjust to the idea.”
“Oh, she’ll probably love it when she gets there,” Colin said. “Now how would you like some mincemeat pie with whipped cream?”
Chapter 45
Sam was on the phone with Taneesha.
“Have you talked with Sabrina McFall about Caitlin yet?”
“I left a message a little while ago,” Taneesha said.
“Well, once you do talk to her, let me know what she says—tonight or tomorrow even if we’re still in Atlanta. And I’m probably going to need for you to go over and talk with Caitlin as soon as we’ve talked to Declan. I’ll be calling you about that. You might want to have her mother there. She’s staying at Hilliard House. I probably ought to fill you in on what’s going on between the mother and daughter.”
“Right, and how about giving me some background on this stealing issue?” Taneesha said.
Then she settled in to listen.
Tab was glad to see that Vincent Wren hit if off quickly with Pink and Barnard McFall. He had brought a cut-up chicken and his own frying pan to fry it in and had gotten Barnard into a conversation about quail hunting.
“Hunting them’s one thing,” he said, “Cooking them’s another. Got to get all that buckshot out so you don’t chip a tooth.”
Barnard chuckled.
Caitlin came in and asked Tab, “What’s that? It smells good.”
Tab said, “Caitlin. This is Vincent Wren. He’s Augusta’s son, and he’s going to stay here until his mother gets well enough to come back.”
Vincent nodded at Caitlin and smiled.
“You like fried chicken?”
Caitlin nodded.
“I’m just so thrilled that Augusta’s recovering,” Pink said.
“I’m glad that she’s got all her wits about her,” Vincent said. “But I should have expected it. That woman’s got one hard head. The doctor won’t let anybody from the sheriff’s office ask her questions yet, but I’ll bet by tomorrow she’ll have remembered the whole thing.”
Chapter 46
On Monday morning, Sam and Skeet were on the road by six a.m. It was still dark, and the cold snap wasn’t over. Neither of them said much until they reached I-75 and headed north.
“You think this kid might run when he sees us?” Skeet asked.
“Nah,” Sam said. “He’s not that kind. I doubt he’s ever been in any trouble. It’s possible that he’s just worried that we found out he was fooling around with a 16-year-old, but I don’t like his getting a new phone and dodging my messages, and I’m sure his dad has told him I wanted to talk to him.”
“You think he would have been capable of holding that pillow down
on Buzz McFall’s face?” Skeet asked.
“Who knows what anybody’s capable of?” Sam said. “Maybe if he was scared enough, he’d do it. The first time I ever saw him, he was acting scared, but I wrote it off to his being worried about Miss Pink being mad at him about the ad, or maybe his just never having been in a house where somebody died. I’m thinking now that he might have been fooling around with Caitlin and Buzz caught him.”
“So, Buzz probably would have fired him for that,” Skeet said. “How would murder have made a difference? Now he and his dad don’t have a candidate to make money from.”
“She’s a minor,” Sam said. “Maybe there was something really going on. There could have been more than just a threat of firing. It’s just speculation, but his dodging me makes me think he’s hiding something.”
Taneesha arrived at the hospital at 7 a.m. to relieve Aaron Whitchell, who was yawning while he made jokes with the nurses.
“He got some sleep,” one of the nurses said. “We could hear him snoring all the way down the hall.”
“Yeah, but I had my chair right in front of her door,” Aaron said, “So they had to wake me up when they wanted to get in.”
“I’m glad to know you got some sleep,” Taneesha said, “Because it’s just you and me and the dispatcher until Sam and Skeet get back from Atlanta.”
She went in to find Augusta Wren sitting up, giving a disapproving stare to the breakfast before her as she felt the bandage that was wrapped around her head.
“Would you get me a hand mirror?” Augusta said. “What is this all over my head?”
“It’s a bandage,” Taneesha said. “I don’t see a hand mirror, but you can take my word for it. Do you know who I am?”
“Of course, I do,” Augusta said, “I talked to you the night Buzz died. You’re Irene Martin’s granddaughter, Taneesha Martin, who married that lawyer, what’s his name?”
Looking for Lillian (Hunter Jones Mystery Book 7) Page 14
