time.”
I waited. It’s amazing how well that works.
“Ah, my father’s in the hospital.” He cleared his throat. “It’s, ah, quite bad. Um. He’s not going to, ah…” His eyes teared up.
I forgot my own troubles in a hurry. Last year, Jack’s sister had been murdered, and the smart money was on their mother, who’d been packed off to live in France. Now this. The guy might be a multi-millionaire, but he couldn’t catch a break.
Aunt Marge and Roger scritched past. Her eyes were full of horrified sympathy; Roger’s were just plain sad, like he’d expected no better of the world. Someday, if he lived long enough, he might be able to tell me what it was he did in the military that made him the way he was. Then again, maybe I didn’t want to know.
I stroked Boris, trying to think of something to say. Uncle Littlepage had suffered a “cardiac event” after his daughter’s murder, but I hadn’t heard that he’d continued to have problems. I wanted to squirm. What could I say? I wasn’t on my uncle’s Christmas card list. Cousin Jack’s, yes, but not my uncle’s. I finally settled for, “What can we do?”
Jack brushed at his eyes. He was wearing Brooks Brothers the way most people wear their five-dollar t-shirt from the rummage store, like it was his slop clothes. I wondered what he wore for dressy occasions. “Actually, Cousin Lil, it’s a relief to be able to admit he’s not likely to… Well, that this is…” He shook himself hard enough that even Boris blinked. “No one wants to hear it. Except Mother.” His face went dark and nasty for a moment. “She’s flying back.”
My palms itched. Oh, to have the evidence to put that woman in prison! But all I had was gut feeling and guesswork. “I’m sorry,” I said, and meant it.
“Thanks.” My cousin fidgeted briefly, coughed, and finally met my gaze squarely. “What would you do if Father left you money?”
I shrugged. “Donate it somewhere, probably.” I realized how that sounded, and hastily added, “Nothing personal. It’s just…”
He grinned crookedly. I could see his exhaustion. “In your place I’d probably do the same.”
“He’s not leaving me anything, is he?” I asked in alarm. I rose when Jack did, in case he needed physical support. He had that hunch-shouldered look to him.
My ribs reminded me I wasn’t doing too well myself.
“I don’t know. He made a new will a month or so ago, however, and I know he feels grateful for your efforts toward putting Lisa’s killer in jail.” We traded an identically sour look before Jack concluded wryly, “Knowing Father, however, it might be a souvenir teacup. At any rate. Um. He’s at University of Virginia, if you want to visit.”
I’d just left that hospital, but I nodded. “We’ll head up tomorrow, if you think he’d like the company.”
Jack let his hand rest on my shoulder, then hugged me gingerly. “Thanks. I could use it, even if he couldn’t.”
It was an aw-shucks moment. I hate those.
Jack hesitated on the way to his Lexus. He has a BMW, too, and a Mercedes, but for Crazy he sticks to the Lexus. He seemed about to speak, then changed his mind, and waved instead. I kept my hand raised till his tail lights had vanished. I picked up Boris, who protested louder than my ribs, and sighed into his fur. What a day. Hell, what a week .
And I was no closer to finding out who killed Vera Collier.
7.
I was on my third day of rest and starting to go stir crazy when my cell phone rang. I’d gone outside to sit on the porch with Boris and watch the rain wash the pollen off everything, and and we were both so mellow I seriously considered not answering. I compromised with myself by checking the caller ID, and had to hit the button. It was Harry Rucker. “Lilith, my sweet giantess!”
I should point out Harry’s shorter than I am. Of course, a lot of people are.
“What now?” I sighed. Aunt Marge had terrified everyone into leaving me be, but I don’t
I waited. It’s amazing how well that works.
“Ah, my father’s in the hospital.” He cleared his throat. “It’s, ah, quite bad. Um. He’s not going to, ah…” His eyes teared up.
I forgot my own troubles in a hurry. Last year, Jack’s sister had been murdered, and the smart money was on their mother, who’d been packed off to live in France. Now this. The guy might be a multi-millionaire, but he couldn’t catch a break.
Aunt Marge and Roger scritched past. Her eyes were full of horrified sympathy; Roger’s were just plain sad, like he’d expected no better of the world. Someday, if he lived long enough, he might be able to tell me what it was he did in the military that made him the way he was. Then again, maybe I didn’t want to know.
I stroked Boris, trying to think of something to say. Uncle Littlepage had suffered a “cardiac event” after his daughter’s murder, but I hadn’t heard that he’d continued to have problems. I wanted to squirm. What could I say? I wasn’t on my uncle’s Christmas card list. Cousin Jack’s, yes, but not my uncle’s. I finally settled for, “What can we do?”
Jack brushed at his eyes. He was wearing Brooks Brothers the way most people wear their five-dollar t-shirt from the rummage store, like it was his slop clothes. I wondered what he wore for dressy occasions. “Actually, Cousin Lil, it’s a relief to be able to admit he’s not likely to… Well, that this is…” He shook himself hard enough that even Boris blinked. “No one wants to hear it. Except Mother.” His face went dark and nasty for a moment. “She’s flying back.”
My palms itched. Oh, to have the evidence to put that woman in prison! But all I had was gut feeling and guesswork. “I’m sorry,” I said, and meant it.
“Thanks.” My cousin fidgeted briefly, coughed, and finally met my gaze squarely. “What would you do if Father left you money?”
I shrugged. “Donate it somewhere, probably.” I realized how that sounded, and hastily added, “Nothing personal. It’s just…”
He grinned crookedly. I could see his exhaustion. “In your place I’d probably do the same.”
“He’s not leaving me anything, is he?” I asked in alarm. I rose when Jack did, in case he needed physical support. He had that hunch-shouldered look to him.
My ribs reminded me I wasn’t doing too well myself.
“I don’t know. He made a new will a month or so ago, however, and I know he feels grateful for your efforts toward putting Lisa’s killer in jail.” We traded an identically sour look before Jack concluded wryly, “Knowing Father, however, it might be a souvenir teacup. At any rate. Um. He’s at University of Virginia, if you want to visit.”
I’d just left that hospital, but I nodded. “We’ll head up tomorrow, if you think he’d like the company.”
Jack let his hand rest on my shoulder, then hugged me gingerly. “Thanks. I could use it, even if he couldn’t.”
It was an aw-shucks moment. I hate those.
Jack hesitated on the way to his Lexus. He has a BMW, too, and a Mercedes, but for Crazy he sticks to the Lexus. He seemed about to speak, then changed his mind, and waved instead. I kept my hand raised till his tail lights had vanished. I picked up Boris, who protested louder than my ribs, and sighed into his fur. What a day. Hell, what a week .
And I was no closer to finding out who killed Vera Collier.
7.
I was on my third day of rest and starting to go stir crazy when my cell phone rang. I’d gone outside to sit on the porch with Boris and watch the rain wash the pollen off everything, and and we were both so mellow I seriously considered not answering. I compromised with myself by checking the caller ID, and had to hit the button. It was Harry Rucker. “Lilith, my sweet giantess!”
I should point out Harry’s shorter than I am. Of course, a lot of people are.
“What now?” I sighed. Aunt Marge had terrified everyone into leaving me be, but I don’t
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