Organized to Death (18 page)

Tina looked at Hank. He wore his guarded look. And his eyes wouldn’t meet hers.

“You know,” she said. “You’ve always known. What
is
it?”

He shook his head. “Not my tale to tell.”

Tina grabbed his arm. “I need to know. Tell me!”

Slowly, gently, he moved away. She let her hand fall. She knew she wouldn’t be able to pry it out of him. She heaved a huge sigh.

“It’s something bad. I know that now. And you’re a coward, Hank Silver. You don’t want to tell me what it is because you’re afraid.” She turned her back on him, looked up at Brandon. Who looked confused. Tina knew he didn’t know what the secret was. She took his arm. “Come on, let’s take Princess for her walk.”

They left Hank standing by the door. He didn’t try to follow, to talk to her. She felt part of her crumble. She wanted to scream, to demand answers. But she was a coward, too. She wasn’t ready to learn the secret. Not just yet.

When Brandon and Tina arrived back in Uncle Bob’s room, they found Laura there, fussing with the stuff on his table. The breakfast tray was gone. Tina checked Uncle Bob out and thought he looked pretty good.

“You lose Hank?” Uncle Bob asked. Tina realized he liked to talk to Hank more than just about anyone else she knew.

“Afraid so,” she said, without explanation. She wanted to say something to her mother about Brenda, but decided this wasn’t the time or the place.

“The doctor was just in,” Laura said. “Uncle Bob can probably go home tomorrow.”

“That’s great news.” Tina attached the dog’s leash to the bed frame again and replaced her water with fresh. “I’ll go get food for Princess, then go to work. Uncle Bob, you need anything?”

“My reading glasses, the book I’m reading, which is on my nightstand. Toothbrush, electric shaver, a new stomach, a set of underwear, and socks. My coat—gloves should be in the pocket. I think that’s all.”

Tina smiled. “Where do you keep the spare stomachs?” She knew she got her organizing gene from him. He’d obviously been making a list in his head.

“In the freezer, of course. Once Laura almost served one for dinner.”

Laura made a face. Brandon smiled.

The clock on the wall said eight thirty. “I need to get going,” Tina said. “I’ll drop in later.”

She and Brandon said goodbye to Laura and Uncle Bob. As they walked by Brenda’s door this time, it was open. Tina slowed down to look in, but she couldn’t bring herself to go talk to Brenda right now. She had no right to get after Hank for being cowardly. All of a sudden, she felt a great reluctance herself to find out what the secret was. Because of her training in psychology she knew she was heading toward denial. She clenched her jaw. She wasn’t going to give up now.

Brandon appeared clueless to all that was going on. He took her arm and led her toward the elevator. “Uncle Bob looks good,” he said.

Making conversation, Tina knew. He was good at that. At least he felt her uneasiness and was trying to distract her.

“Yes. Thank goodness it wasn’t more serious,” she said as they entered the elevator.

“Could have been. Lucky you were there. He could have bled out.”

Tina felt a jolt run through her. She hadn’t really thought about it that much. More denial.

Brandon squeezed her arm. “Sorry. That was too blunt. He’ll be fine now.”

“Of course he will,” Tina said. She and Laura would see to that. She changed the subject as they stepped into the lobby. “You hear anything at your office about Crystal’s murder?”

“More about Rachel’s housekeeping than the murder itself. It sounds horrendous. I can’t believe you want to help with that mess. Which will be a lot worse when the cops are through with it.” He held the lobby door for her.

Here we go again
. “Drop it, Brandon. I’m going to help Rachel. She needs me more than ever now.”

“I suppose.”

“What do you care? You don’t have to have a thing to do with it.”

Brandon stopped walking, and since she had her hand in the crook of his elbow, she had to stop as well. They were in the middle of the parking lot, and Tina was glad no cars were entering or leaving.

“I care about you,” Brandon said with an intensity that surprised her.

Her breath caught. “I know you do,” she said, a bit ashamed, eyes downcast. “And it’s sweet.” She looked up into his oh-so-serious face. “In a way. But in another way, it’s not that you really care about me, you care about preserving your image of me, how you want me to be.”

“Don’t be silly,” he snapped.

She removed her hand from his elbow. “You think I’m silly?”

He looked stricken. Then all of a sudden even more angry. “Sometimes.” He strode toward his car without saying goodbye.

Tina stood watching him walk away. Only when a car came up and tooted at her did she move. What was wrong with Brandon? He never lost his temper, never treated her this way.

She found her car and climbed in, still a bit angry. Her world felt suddenly skewed, off-kilter. Crystal murdered, Uncle Bob collapsing and scaring her half to death, and now she realized there was a big secret among the Lunch Bunch, probably about the daughters. Hank was showing a real interest in her, but Brandon had become more impatient. Or was he mirroring her mounting impatience with him? He’d never called her silly before, but she’d had the impression sometimes he thought she was an airhead. And that had always annoyed her. Now he’d come right out and said it. Well, sorry, she didn’t think she was ever silly, and calling her that made her mad. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She turned the key in the ignition with more force than necessary.

Then there was Ted. Something
really
off-kilter there, and she was headed to his office. How smart was that?

First she had to get food for Princess and the things Uncle Bob needed.

At home, as she gathered up those items and put them in a small suitcase, Tina had a sudden urge to call Hank. She hardly ever called him, and she hesitated now.

Finally, after Uncle Bob’s suitcase was packed, she went to her bedroom, set the case down, and plopped on her bed.

The phone rang four times before Hank picked up. “‘Lo,” he said, sounding distracted.

“It’s me,” Tina said.

“Yes, I know.”

Caller ID
. Why did he sound so distant? She hesitated.

“Tina? You okay?”

“No. No, I’m not.” She wouldn’t cry. Couldn’t cry in front of Hank. Well, Hank wasn’t exactly in front of her. She took a shaky breath. She meant she couldn’t let Hank know she was crying, know she was weak.

“What’s wrong?” Hank asked.

“Everything.”

“Well, not everything, surely.”

“Okay. Lots of things.” Now he was ticking her off with his emotional distance. Brandon too hot; Hank too cold. Couldn’t she find someone just right, like Goldilocks? Everyone was ticking her off. First Brandon, now Hank. She’d been upset with her mother for some time. She felt claustrophobic all of a sudden. “I think I’ll just leave town.”

“What?” Hank snapped.

“Leave town. Move to New Jersey. Florida. Yeah, Florida would be good. Warm there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You think I’m ridiculous? Wonderful. Brandon thinks I’m silly, and you think I’m ridiculous.” She banged down the receiver and jumped off the bed.

If it weren’t for Uncle Bob, she’d be looking up the price of airline tickets right now.
Yeah, Tina
, she told herself,
run away again
. She’d only done that once in her life, and she still regretted it. But it had worked, for the most part. The nightmares were fewer, the feelings of panic, of having to do something right now, were almost gone.

The anger was new, though. Unusual for her. It suddenly hit her that often depression was caused by the suppression of anger. Of course. She wouldn’t allow herself to be angry in Virginia. But it was human to feel that way under the circumstances. So maybe her being upset with Brandon and Hank was a little overblown, but it felt good for some reason. Cleansing.

Almost euphoric, Tina drove back to the hospital where she dropped everything off with hardly a word to her uncle or her mother. Every few minutes her cell phone rang, and finally she turned it off without even glancing to see who had called. She was in no mood to talk to anyone.

When she arrived at Ted’s office, Sylvia told her he was with a patient. The office phone rang just as Tina was going to ask about Brenda, so she went to the kitchen and began cleaning. With a vengeance.

In about an hour, a woman in scrubs came in to get a cup of coffee. “Oh, I didn’t know anyone was in here,” she said.

Tina wiped her hands on a towel. “I’m Tina. I’m helping to get the office organized and cleaned up.” She held out her hand.

The other woman came to shake it. She was about medium height, athletic, with her brown hair pulled back severely into a ponytail. She had big brown eyes and a small nose and mouth. “Abby Jacobs. I’m temping.”

“Yes, of course,” Tina said. “Any word on how Brenda’s doing?”

“As expected, I suppose, after getting the news.”

“News?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? I’m sorry. I can’t say any more.” She took a sip of coffee, watching Tina over the rim.

“Well,” Tina said, feeling her anger rising again. “I suppose it isn’t good news if you say ‘as expected.’”

Abby shrugged. Finished her coffee in two swallows. “I have to get back to the patients.”

Tina sank down into a kitchen chair. All her oomph vanished, leaving her drained and, she admitted to herself, a bit scared. What the hell was going on?

Ted strode into the room, headed for the coffeepot. He stopped short when he saw her. “Tina. How’s it going?”

He loomed over her. “Not so good,” she said. “Can you sit down for a minute?”

He poured himself a mug of coffee. Sat down opposite her. “What’s going on?”

“Lot of things. Lots of secrets.”

He stiffened. “Secrets?”

“About Brenda, for example.”

He relaxed a bit. “Oh, that. Well, of course I can’t discuss a patient with you.”

“Of course not.” Tina slammed her hand down on the table, making Ted jump. “But I think I have a right to know.”

“Why?” Ted asked. He seemed genuinely puzzled.

Of course he would be, Tina realized. He didn’t know anything about the Lunch Bunch and their secret. How could he? He’d only been in town a few months. Whatever was wrong with Brenda, he wouldn’t see any connection between that and the Lunch Bunch daughters.

Feeling overwhelmed, Tina shrugged and stood up. “Never mind. It’s too complicated to explain.”

Ted took her wrist. “Sit down,” he said softly. “Tell me about it. Maybe I can help.”

Tina suppressed a shudder at his touch. Was it fear? She couldn’t be sure. Why should she be afraid of him? She thought it was his intense interest in her. It felt over the top for some reason. But she sat down and he let go, much to her relief.

“There are six daughters of women who get together once a month for lunch. Two of the daughters are dead—one from cancer, another murdered. And now a third is in the hospital. We’ve known for some time that the mothers must have a secret, and we think it’s about the daughters, but no one will tell us anything.”

“What kind of cancer?” Ted asked.

Tina blinked. “What? Oh, you mean Sally? I don’t know.”

“No idea? Ever heard what it was but forgot?”

Tina shook her head, more curious than ever. She’d been away at college, hadn’t heard much, only came home for the funeral.

“Do you remember if anyone said it was rare?”

“Maybe. Yes, I think so.”

Ted stood up. “Find out what kind it was and get back to me.” Then he turned around and walked out of the kitchen.

Tina sat a moment, her mind blank. Then she stood up to get her purse and sat back down, grabbing her phone from its pocket. She pushed in Hank’s number and waited.

This time he answered on the first ring. Before he could say more than hello, Tina said, her voice sharp, “I just have one question. What kind of cancer did Sally have?”

Silence. A long silence. She waited, holding her breath.

“First,” Hank finally said, “I want to apologize. I didn’t mean you were ridiculous, just that I thought the idea of running away was, well, not a good one.”

“Fine. You’ve apologized. Sally?”

“This isn’t like you, Tina. You must know it still hurts to talk about Sally.”

Her shoulders slumped. She rubbed her forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache. Then the fury came back. “Oh, poor little Hank,” she said, her voice rising. “Give me a break. It’s been over five years since Sally died. You know I know there’s something going on about the daughters of the Lunch Bunch. Now it appears it might have something to do with our health. You and the mothers have no right to hold it back from us.” She banged her fist on the table. “No right, do you hear me?”

“Only trying to protect you,” Hank began.

“We have a right to know!” Now she was shouting. Abby stuck her head in the door and stared. Tina waved her away and lowered her voice. “We’re adults. The other adults have an obligation to tell us.”

“I don’t want to talk about this on the phone … “

“I’ll be right over.”

“No. Tina. I can’t talk to you about this. It’s not my place. You’ll have to get it from Laura.”

“Like that’s going to happen.” Her voice was climbing again. She took a long, shuddering breath. “You won’t help me.” Now her tone was flat, defeated.

“I can’t. Tina, listen—”

She flipped the phone closed and sat staring at the tabletop. The phone rang once, and she turned the ringer off. No one came into the kitchen. She didn’t know how long she sat there. She felt stiff as an old lady when she stood up, and her head pounded. Mechanically, she put the cleaning products she’d been using away and walked to the front of the office.

“I have to leave,” she told Sylvia. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You okay?” Sylvia asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

She climbed into her car and sat. She didn’t know how long, but when she became really chilled, she turned on the ignition, put the heater on high, and drove home.