Final Sail (3 page)

“His millions may kill my father,” she said. “I want my money to save him.”

CHAPTER 2

“
I
  
have the money to get what I want.”

Violet’s sentence sounded sweet to Helen: Nancie’s new client had just handed their struggling PI agency an unlimited expense account. Her reasons sounded noble: She wanted to save her father.

But Helen also detected discordant notes: Violet had used “I” twice, plus “money” and “want.” She’d packed a lot of ego into nine short words. She’d mentioned her father’s millions and her own money.

If Violet solved her problems by throwing money at them, she could give Helen and Phil’s newborn agency a healthy cash infusion.

But that sentence also signaled Violet could be difficult, demanding and determined to get her way. She was so eaten with hatred that she could not say her stepmother’s name. It was an unnerving pattern. Violet didn’t mention her ex-husband’s name, either. She’d erased the man, if not the damage he did to her.

Violet was in the grip of powerful emotions. Her desire for revenge could hinder their investigation.

You’ve spent years in retail, Helen told herself. This isn’t the first
difficult person you’ve had to handle. Phil has enough charm for both of us, and Nancie stood up to a whole city and got her way. We can handle one rich, wounded client.

“I know how we can get that woman,” Violet said.

Phil caught Helen’s eye and raised an eyebrow at that
we
. He knew that was client code for
you
.

Nancie leaned forward in her desk and gave Violet a gunslinger’s stare. “We’ll be happy to consider any ideas you might have,” she said. “But I am in charge of any inquiry, and Coronado Investigations works with me. We will not do anything illegal or unethical.”

Violet sat back slightly, as if the force of Nancie’s statement made her retreat. She fumbled with her purse strap while she carefully chose her words and softened her voice. “I’m worried that woman will try to kill my father in the hospital,” she said. “She could smother him with a pillow or pull the plug on the ventilator. Then Daddy will never get a chance to recover.” A fat tear escaped and slid down her pale cheek.

Nancie seemed to suppress a sigh. Very slowly, as if she were explaining a complex subject to a small child, she said, “There’s no evidence your father is receiving improper treatment—or that he’s been poisoned. We need facts. All we have is his housekeeper’s bungled attempt to get Blossom arrested and an imaginary boyfriend.”

“He’s real,” Violet said. “She’s cheating on Daddy. My father needs protection, and I can’t be there to help him. That woman won’t let me into his ICU room, but she’d have to let in Daddy’s spiritual adviser.”

“Your father has a minister?” Helen asked.

“Yes,” Violet said. “You.”

Her words detonated a deafening silence. Violet rushed to fill it. “Daddy wasn’t religious. I don’t think he’s been in a church since Mama was buried. But that woman has been with Daddy such a short time she doesn’t know if he has a Baptist minister or a Buddhist monk.”

Phil said the name Violet couldn’t bring herself to pronounce. “Is Blossom from Fort Lauderdale?”

“That woman says she’s from California,” Violet said, “but who knows? Her maiden name—though I doubt she’s been one for years—is supposed to be Blossom Mae. We had dinner together after she and Daddy came home from the cruise. It was awkward. Watching my father slobber over her almost made me lose my dinner.”

Violet suddenly seemed aware of how bitter she must sound. “I guess you think I have issues with my father remarrying. I don’t. I want Daddy to be happy. But she’s pure evil.”

More tears trickled from her reddened eyes. Violet fished Phil’s handkerchief out of her purse and blotted her eyes, but she couldn’t stop weeping. Helen felt sorry for her. Violet seemed sincerely worried about her ailing father. But was she right about Blossom?

“I tried to get her to talk about herself,” Violet said. “Everyone likes to do that. She wouldn’t. All that woman would say was she grew up in San Diego and she went to work for the cruise line. I couldn’t pry another fact out of her, which I thought was fishy. I know she’s hiding something. She wouldn’t even tell me what year she graduated from high school.”

“Maybe she’s hiding her age,” Phil said.

“Then that’s all she’s hiding,” Violet said. “She definitely flaunted her goodies. Daddy’s eyes crossed when she leaned over to pass the cream. I’m guessing she’s about thirty-five. Her name is flaky enough that she could be from Moonbeam Land. Daddy is a sucker for flower names. Mother’s name was Honeysuckle and my name is Violet. He calls that woman his Little Flower.”

Violet snorted. “Little Flower, my eye. Clinging Vine is more like it. She’s wrapped herself around Daddy and hung on tight. Now she’s strangling the life out of him.

“That woman came from nowhere. She never mentions her family. I don’t know if her parents are alive or if she has brothers or sisters.
All I know is she was a masseuse on a cruise ship and met Daddy while he was on a world cruise.

“Heaven knows what kind of massage she gave him. Daddy said it was a full-body massage.” Violet rolled her eyes. “Full body, indeed. She threw her body at him. I thought that cruise line was respectable.”

“‘Full body’ is a type of therapeutic massage,” Phil said.

Violet looked like she’d swallowed something sour and continued. “Daddy called me from the cruise ship and said he was marrying her. He’d only known that woman for two weeks. I told him she was after his money.”

“You said that before you even met her?” Helen said.

“It wasn’t tactful, I know,” Violet said. “I probably made things worse. Daddy said he was old enough to know his own mind and I’d never seen her, so how could I criticize her?

“I wanted to fly in for the wedding, but he said there wasn’t time. They were marrying on the beach the next day, when their ship reached the Maldives. Those are islands off the coast of India.”

Nancie and the two detectives nodded like bobblehead dolls.

“That woman had signed a contract to work for the cruise line for a whole year. Daddy bought it out and paid to have a substitute massage therapist flown in at the next port of call. They spent their honeymoon on the ship where she’d been an employee.

“They were only home three weeks when Daddy had that ‘heart attack.’”

Helen could hear the quotation marks around those words.

“He was popping Viagra like candy. The last time I saw Daddy, he was swaggering around like a teenager. He bragged that they hadn’t left the house in four days and made it clear they’d spent it in bed.”

“Wow!” Phil said. “That’s pretty impressive.”

Violet seared him with an angry look. “She was wearing nothing but a negligee at four in the afternoon.”

Phil started to say something, then stopped himself.

Violet rushed into the silence. “That’s why you could get into Daddy’s hospital room, Helen. You could say you were his minister. She never bothered learning anything about him except he had a big bank account. If you went to the hospital, you could sit in the ICU and watch over him. I want you to be his bodyguard at night. That’s when I worry most about Daddy, when there isn’t much activity in the hospital. If you were there, she couldn’t harm him.”

“But I’m not a minister,” Helen said.

“You could be,” Phil said. “Our landlady, Margery, is a minister in the Universal Life Church. You can get ordained online for free.”

Helen glared at her husband. She didn’t like being rushed into this.

“Is that church legal?” Violet asked.

“I sure hope so,” Phil said. “Margery married us.”

“The ordination is legal,” Nancie said, “as long as Helen uses her real name.”

“Let’s do it now,” Violet said. “Helen could get ordained by your office computer.”

“Wait a minute,” Helen said. “Even if I do get ordained, why would Blossom let me in to see Mr. Zerling? She’s kept you away from your own father.”

“Because she wants everyone to think she’s a sweet, concerned wifey,” Violet said. “She’s painted me as a jealous, possessive daughter.”

And you helped with that portrait, Helen thought.

“That woman bribes the hospital staff,” Violet said. “She doesn’t give them money, but she brings in gourmet sandwiches and pizza. There’s always a huge hundred-dollar box of Godiva chocolate at the nurses’ station. They love her. The nurses don’t like me because I’m too proud to buy friends.”

Too bad, Helen thought. We’re going to cost a lot more than chocolates and sandwiches.

“Now will you get ordained?” Violet asked. “Please?”

Helen was a lapsed Catholic. A casual ordination made her feel uneasy. “What about Phil?” she asked. “He could be a minister.”

“I have other plans for him,” Violet said.

“Perhaps you’d care to share them with us,” Nancie said, her words sharp and clipped. “Please remember Helen and Phil will take no action without my approval. Now, let’s hear your idea for Phil.”

“He could be that woman’s estate manager,” Violet said. “She’s advertising for one in the newspaper. That’s what she’s calling the job: estate manager. Have you ever heard anything so pretentious?”

“How big is the estate?” Phil asked.

“It isn’t an estate,” Violet said. “It’s a comfortable house with eight bedrooms and twelve bathrooms. It does need looking after. Daddy had Fran. What that woman wants is a houseman, or a handyman, or even a caretaker. Those are the right terms. But she’s new rich, so she inflated the title to estate manager.”

“Would I have to keep the books?” Phil asked.

“No,” Violet said. “Daddy has an accountant. You’ll deal with the household staff, the pool service, the lawn service, the security service and various repair people. You’ll have to make sure the property is well maintained.”

“I could do that,” Phil said. “Am I qualified?”

Helen bristled as she watched Violet run her eyes up and down Phil’s body. Violet lingered over his broad shoulders and stopped at his striking silver hair, which Phil had pulled into a ponytail.

“Oh, you’re qualified,” Violet said, laughing too loudly. “You’ve got everything she’ll want. Right between your legs.”

“That’s enough, Violet,” Nancie said. “That’s sexual harassment and I won’t permit it in my office.”

“Phil is married,” Helen said. “To me.”

“I’m not that kind of guy,” Phil said, and attempted a laugh, but he was embarrassed.

So was Violet. She’d turned a blotchy red. “I apologize,” she said. “I was out of line. I’ve been upset since Daddy got sick. I hope you’ll
forgive my coarse remark. I meant the job as estate manager would get you into my father’s house. Then you can find out who is that woman’s boyfriend and get the evidence to prove she’s trying to murder Daddy.

“She is killing him,” Violet said. “You have to believe me. I’ll spend every nickel I have to prove it.”

CHAPTER 3

T
he Reverend Helen Hawthorne had been a minister for three minutes, and she didn’t like it. Helen believed women had the right to perform pastoral duties. Now the click of a mouse on a lawyer’s computer made her a minister. She could baptize, bury and legally marry couples in all fifty states.

It didn’t feel right. The power to preside over life’s major milestones should be given in a solemn ceremony, she thought. Being a minister was a sacred duty, even to the nonreligious Helen.

Nancie and Violet applauded when the online ordination was complete, but Helen didn’t feel like celebrating.

“You’ll have an e-mail verification in twenty-four hours,” Nancie said. “I’ll forward it.”

“Congratulations, Reverend,” Phil said, and kissed her cheek.

“May I speak to my partner in private, please?” Helen asked.

“Use the conference room next door,” Nancie said.

Helen dragged Phil into the room, yanked two tall gold-upholstered chairs away from the oak table and said, “Sit.”

Phil sat. He looked puzzled. Helen sat across from her husband.

“Did I say something wrong?” Phil asked.

“Yes,” Helen said. “Don’t ever volunteer me for something again without asking. I’m your partner in our agency. You trapped me into that farce of an ordination.”