The Devil You Know (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 15) (4 page)

Chapter 7

A few seconds later, I could hear George greeting his daughter and son-in-law in the front entryway. I made my way to the foyer and stood there watching them, hanging back so as to not to intrude.

Olivia was tall, blonde and beautiful with the help of some plastic surgery. Her lips were too plump in my opinion but her forehead was smooth as glass. Not a wrinkle on her face, in fact. No cream alone could work such miracles. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Olivia’s husband Brett was just as good-looking. Tall dark and handsome, he also had a killer physique. The guy must work out constantly.

George hugged his daughter affectionately. “So good to see you, darling, but I think you’ve gotten too skinny. I hope you’re eating.”

Brett was quick to respond. “She’s on another diet. You know, the kind where they forbid you to eat food.”

George didn’t chuckle at the joke. Instead, he gave his daughter a stern look. “I intend to fatten you up this weekend. Lucita has some wonderful meals planned for us.”

Olivia chortled. “You think I’m skinny? You should see the actresses I work with…” Her eye caught mine and she blinked as if confused. “Oh, hello. Are you one of my father’s employees?”

I forced a smile, not sure how to respond. “No, I’m Tina Hayes.”

George cleared his throat and seemed flustered. “Oh, Tina, I’m so sorry. Please come on over so I can introduce you.” George slipped an arm around my shoulder like we were old buddies. “This is Tina Hayes, Josephine’s daughter. I invited her to stay for the weekend.”

Olivia and Brett both stared at me, wide eyed and mute. Finally, Brett offered his hand. “Well, it’s a real pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry about your mother. She was a nice lady.”

“Thank you,” I said. “It means a lot to hear that.”

Olivia moved toward me and offered a hug, which I wasn't expecting. At least she had manners, unlike her aunt. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “And so sorry about your mom.”

“Thank you,” I said. “It’s been a difficult time.”

She turned back to her father. “Did Aunt Margaret arrive with Jeremy?”

“Yes.” George pointed up the stairs. “They’re getting settled in the suite.”

“Let me guess. The security guards at the airport tried to molest her again?”

George shrugged. “Something like that.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “She creates more drama than any actor I’ve ever worked with.”

We all had a quiet chuckle over that one but I got the sense it was out of love.

“Do you need help bringing your things upstairs?” George asked, referring to the three oversized suitcases at Brett’s feet. “What in the world did you pack in there for two and a half days?”

“Well, I didn’t know what to bring in terms of winter gear,” Olivia said. “I brought extra boots, snow pants, jackets, sweaters, thermal underwear and ice skates, just in case the pond is still frozen. Aren’t you the one who taught me to always be prepared for anything?”

“I suppose I did.” George smiled as he grabbed the handle of the smallest suitcase.  “Let’s get you two settled upstairs. When you’re ready, you must come back down and have a drink with me.”

After they left, I got the sense that George was trying to keep things light with his family. If I hadn't known better, I'd say he wasn't depressed at all.

I wandered into the kitchen to say hi to Lucita. I felt guilty knowing that Carter was all by himself, probably dining on peanut butter sandwiches while I was about to feast on a homemade meal.

Once in the kitchen, Lucita was nowhere to be found. The faint smell of burning sugar alerted me to the fact that something was in the oven. It smelled like a chocolate cake and I wondered if Lucita had forgotten about it.

Maybe she was in the bathroom. If she didn’t come back in a few minutes, I’d take the cake out of the oven. It would be a crying shame to let it get ruined.

Just then I heard a moaning sound come from behind the island counter. I hurried over and found Lucita sitting on the floor, legs splayed out in front of her, with a hand on her forehead.

“Are you okay?” I crouched down next to her wondering if she had fallen. “What happened?”

She looked at me as if she had no clue. “I …I’m fine. I get dizzy spells once in a while. Low blood sugar.”

“Would you like me to call an ambulance?”

“No. No, is not necessary. I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t look fine. Her thin hair was matted with sweat. “Why do you get dizzy spells? Are you ill?”

She placed both hands on the floor in an attempt to get up. When I clasped her elbow to help, I noticed she had some bruising on her arms that had been concealed by her shirt.

“Maybe I should go tell George what happened,” I said.

“No, please don't bother him. I am fine, now.” Once she got to her feet, she gasped and ran to the stove. “The cake, it is burning.”

She grabbed the hot pads and retrieved the cake from the oven. Thankfully, only a small top portion had been charred.

“Lucita, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should sit down and have some water or tea. Take a rest.”

She ignored my suggestion and continued fussing over the cake.

I could see a quarter sized red bump on the side of her forehead. “Let me get some ice for your head.” I went to the freezer and found a bag of frozen peas. “Please, just take two minutes to sit down.”

Lucita sighed as she walked over to the counter and pulled out a stool. “Okay. I sit for one minute.” She placed the frozen bag on her head.

I poured a glass of water and set it in front of her. “Maybe you’ve been working too hard. You might be dehydrated.”

She took a few sips and looked at me appreciatively. “Thank you, Ms. Hayes. Maybe you are right. Today has been busy for me.”

“Have you had anything to eat?”

She shook her head.

I grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and began peeling it for her. “Here, this will give you some energy.”

She accepted the fruit and took a bite. Her expression became tight. “Please don't mention to Mr. Caswell.”

Could I make that kind of promise? George had a right to know if his employee had health issues. “Okay, but if this happens again, I’m calling the ambulance. I’m worried about you.”

She nodded. “Thank you for understanding.” After she finished her water, she stood up and returned the bag of peas to the freezer. The bump on her head seemed to have dissipated.

Chapter 8

At five-thirty, the final guests arrived: Miles, Sue-Ann and their nineteen year old daughter Sasha.

Miles was tall and lanky like his father, but he didn’t have the chiseled features. In fact, he had a weak chin and a drawn face. His blue eyes were his best feature, with long dark lashes that almost looked feminine.

Sue-Ann had a big smile, big hair and even bigger breasts. She reminded me of a young Dolly Parton. Their daughter was a spitting image of the mother without the breasts. She struck me as the type of girl who probably won beauty pageants, starting at age five. But if she was going to Cornell, then she must have a brain.

When George introduced me as Josephine’s daughter, they immediately offered their condolences.

“We are so sorry about your mother. She was a sweet lady.” Her southern accent was so pronounced it sounded fake.

“Thank you,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

Sasha the teenager didn’t have much to say to me after the initial introduction. She was texting on her phone.

Her mother glared at her and said. “Sasha, don’t be rude.”

She looked up at her mother and sneered, then reluctantly slipped the phone in her pocket.

George laughed off the incident. “Why don’t you head upstairs with your luggage, get settled. Dinner will be ready around seven.”

The family of three headed upstairs and, once they were out of sight, George turned to me with look of relief. “Well, that’s my family. What do you think so far?”

“They all seem fine with my being here. Everyone except your sister.”

“My kids were taught to have manners,” he said. “They’d never be rude to your face but what they say behind closed doors... I have no control over that.”

“I understand. I’m sure Carter is listening to every word. He’ll only text me when he hears something worth mentioning.”

George sighed in consternation. “I know my family cares about me but, where large fortunes are concerned, it is advisable to trust nobody. Especially family.”

“I hope we can determine that your family had nothing to do with Josephine’s death.”

“Me, too.”

I was tempted to tell him about Lucita’s fainting spell in the kitchen, but I’d made a promise not to mention it. I didn’t know if that was a mistake or not.

Chapter 9

Dinner was served at seven.

Lucita impressed everyone with a wonderful seafood casserole, except for Margaret who was allergic to shellfish. Lucita had made a separate dish just for her; macaroni and cheese with cubed ham.

I was glad to see that Lucita was not responsible for serving the food. I was still worried about her health and wondered what had really caused her to pass out. George had even invited Lucita to stay and join us for dinner, but she declined with thanks. She made the excuse that her husband was waiting for her at home and so she left.

It warmed my heart that George treated Lucita with kindness, like she was one of the family instead of hired help. I could also tell, just by their interaction, that there was a mutual respect.

After Lucita left, George’s daughter-in-law Sue-Ann took it upon herself to act as hostess, graciously spooning exact portions of casserole onto everyone’s plate. There were hot croissants to accompany the meal and several bottles of red from the wine cellar in the basement.

Throughout dinner, Olivia did most of the talking. She rambled on and on about her audition for a Broadway production of the Vagina Monologues, which elicited much tittering from the other family members.

I wasn’t all that surprised that nobody asked me any questions. I felt invisible, like a spectator in a sitcom drama. I didn’t mind, because my job was to observe and analyze. The fact that no one paid attention to me was an interesting clue. It could mean a guilty conscience or it could simply mean they didn’t care to get to know me.

By the end of the weekend, however, I would know a lot about them.

George seemed content to sit back and let his daughter take center stage, which she seemed to enjoy. Every now and then, Sue-Ann would try and take over the conversation by talking about her daughter’s accomplishments, but Olivia always managed to turn the point of interest back to her. I sensed a bit of a competitiveness between the two women. They both craved attention and admiration and tried to one up each other as often as possible.

Sasha only picked at her meal, too busy texting on her cell phone. Her mother was too busy flapping her mouth to notice.

Margaret would inject her snide remarks from time to time but, for the most part, everyone ignored her. Jeremy hadn’t said more than two words since we’d all sat at the table. He kept his head low as he slowly chewed his food.

George’s son, Miles, didn’t have time to talk. He stuffed his face like a starving man. He devoured three helpings of the casserole, four croissants and three glasses of wine within the first hour. How did he stay so thin with those eating habits? Man, I’d kill for that kind of metabolism.

And then there was Brett. I caught him staring at me a few times. What would a handsome guy like him find interesting about me? Did he sense that there was something off about the situation?

By eight-fifteen, I offered to clear the plates from the table but Sue-Ann stood up and began clearing them herself. She gestured for me to stay put. “You are the special guest this weekend,” she said. “You shouldn’t have to lift a finger. Would you like another glass of wine?”

“No thank you. I’ll just finish what I have left here.”

Olivia immediately got up and started to help, as if she couldn’t possibly allow Sue-Ann to take all the credit for being helpful. When the two women disappeared into the kitchen with an armload of dishes, Margaret took the opportunity to air her grievance.

“How did it come to pass that the younger generation of Caswell women are complete airheads?”

Miles shot her an admonishing look. “Aunt Margaret, don’t be rude.”

She returned his icy glare. “Well, it’s true. I won’t apologize for speaking the truth.”

Miles did not bother to reply. Instead, he turned to look at his father. “Dad, what time is the memorial service tomorrow?”

“Starts at nine and goes till eleven. I’ve booked a private room at the country club and I expect around fifty people to attend.”

Once Sue-Ann and Olivia returned to the dining room, George cleared his throat, demanding the attention of all. “Now that we’re done eating, I’d like to discuss something with you all. It’s of a serious nature.”

All eyes were on George and, for a moment, I thought he was going to announce his theory about Josephine’s death. I hadn’t expected he’d do it like this.

“I wanted to take the opportunity now, while we’re all together,” George continued. “To give you some unfortunate news. I’ve considered putting this off until later, but I think it’s important to start making arrangements.”

Everyone remained quiet, waiting.

George gave a sad smile. “I have an inoperable brain tumor and my doctor gives me three to six months. I’ve had second and third opinions and they all tell me the same thing. There’s very little anyone can do at this point, but I want you all to know that I am not giving up. However, I am also realistic. My chances are not good at surviving this one.”

I was just as shocked as everyone else. Was George telling the truth, or was this some kind of attempt to throw a monkey wrench into the plan?

Olivia began crying but Miles was the first to speak up. “Dad, are you serious? How long have you known?”

“A few months but I wanted to be sure I had all the facts before I told you.”

Miles turned pale and he looked like he might throw up. Olivia wiped her eyes, trying desperately to control herself but failing. Sasha the granddaughter just stared at George in disbelief. Margaret shook her head solemnly, as if the news hadn’t come as a shock to her.

“And I always thought I’d be the first to go,” Margaret said.

Olivia shot her a menacing look. “How can you be so heartless? My dad just told us he’s dying, and all you think about is yourself!”

George raised his hand. “Please, let’s not argue. This might be the last weekend we are all together.”

Olivia abruptly stood up from the table, covering her face with her hands. She went to her father and put her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, daddy.”

George patted her arm. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”

The tears kept streaming down her cheeks and she eventually ran out of the room toward the foyer. Soon we could hear the sound of her footsteps going up the staircase.

Brett stood up next. “I should probably go make sure she’s okay. George, I’m sorry to hear the news.”

“Thank you, Brett,” George said. “Just do me a favor and take care of my daughter, okay? Be good to her.”

Brett gave a curt nod and left the room without another word.

George pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. I could tell he wanted to lighten the mood a bit. “Anyone interested in chocolate cake?”

Miles shook his head. “Not for me. I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Me, too,” Sue-Ann said.

Sasha raised her hand, and with a soft voice, she said, “Gramps, I’ll share a slice with you.”

George smiled. “That’s the spirit. Anyone else?”

Margaret turned to Jeremy. “I’m ready to go back to the room. I’m not allowed to have chocolate anyway.”

Jeremy complied by helping Margaret to her feet and placing the cane in her hand. She tottered out of the room with Jeremy by her side.

I raised my hand. “I’d love some chocolate cake.”