Read Online Suspicion of Madness by Barbara Parker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Parker
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trying to get Joan off the property so Martin could have it. Anyway, she's not that crazy, not to where the men in white coats would take her away."
"That's not going to happen." Doug smiled. His teeth were slightly crooked, which made him look vulnerable and boyish. "Aunt Joan will go to the best place available. I'll make sure of it. She's all the family I have left, Lo."
"Martin wouldn't want me to get involved. He feels sorry for Joan."
"Then I guess you've got a choice to make." Doug kept looking at her, and Lois fell into his eyes like sinking into deep water. She couldn't breathe. Doug covered her hand with his, big and heavy and warm. "Lois, if you won't testify, the judge might not grant the guardianship. I want you and Martin to have the property, honey, but if I don't have the power to sign a lease, what can we do?"
They needed the property for its deep water access. The Buttonwood Inn's harbor was too shallow, and the state wouldn't let them dredge. Joan had a deepwater dock. Two years ago she had said she would give it to them, then she had said no, even though Lois had gone over there and practically begged her. Joan had screamed through the door, I said no, now get out! Martin was content to let it go, but if they didn't have deep water, they could never accommodate bigger boats.
"We need the dock," Lois said, "but I can't testify against Joan. I can't."
Doug leaned so close she could smell his cologne and count his eyelashes. "Have you seen the house lately? It breaks my heart, how Aunt Joan lets it deteriorate. Do you remember how beautiful the house was when my grandparents lived there? Teddy brought you out to visit, didn't he?"
"Yes. It was a beautiful house. The chandeliers and the fireplace and the oriental carpets. We used to sit on the porch and watch the moon on the ocean, and the stars—"
"I want to restore it, Lo."
Her heart leaped. "Would you live there?"
"I'd be there on weekends. We'd be neighbors, wouldn't we?" He smiled, and his lips shone. "I need you to make it happen." He took her hand and smoothed her fingers over his. He pressed his lips to her skin. She wanted to moan, to cry. Joy, exultant and giddy, surged through her body. She leaned toward him and rested her head on their joined hands.
"Yes, Douglas. Yes. If you need me, all you ever have to do is say so."
"And could you... check on Aunt Joan a couple of times a week for me? Could you do that?"
Lois raised her head. "Check on her?"
"You know. See how she is. Take a look around."
"Joan won't let me in. She doesn't like me."
"You could take her a casserole or something."
"Why do I have to check on her? Let Arnel Goode do it. He's over there nearly every day."
"Listen to me, Lois. Somebody has to say to the judge, 'Why, yes, Your Honor, I visited Ms. Lindeman many times. It's so sad. She recites all the lines from her movies, over and over. She smelled like she hadn't bathed in a week. There was nothing in the fridge but caviar, beer, and moldy take-out from the hotel restaurant. The condition of her house was shocking! There are liquor bottles, roaches, garbage everywhere. She thinks that space aliens are watching her through the TV, and the FBI is tapping her phones.'"
"I can't say that."
"Yes, you can. Sandra was going to."
Sandra. Lois felt the cold wind of betrayal sliding across her neck. A few times, sitting in her car across the street watching for a glimpse of Douglas, she had seen Sandra McCoy come into this office, and it wasn't to deliver legal papers from the resort. Lois had imagined them on that couch over there, or on the carpet. Maybe Sandra had straddled him as he sat in that very chair, her tarty red hair swinging across his face. The girl had no morals. Twenty-two years old. They could go after any man, girls like that, and make a man lie about it. At the resort, Sandra had made her sly little smiles whenever Doug Lindeman's name had come up, and Lois had wanted to slap her.
"Were you involved
"That's not going to happen." Doug smiled. His teeth were slightly crooked, which made him look vulnerable and boyish. "Aunt Joan will go to the best place available. I'll make sure of it. She's all the family I have left, Lo."
"Martin wouldn't want me to get involved. He feels sorry for Joan."
"Then I guess you've got a choice to make." Doug kept looking at her, and Lois fell into his eyes like sinking into deep water. She couldn't breathe. Doug covered her hand with his, big and heavy and warm. "Lois, if you won't testify, the judge might not grant the guardianship. I want you and Martin to have the property, honey, but if I don't have the power to sign a lease, what can we do?"
They needed the property for its deep water access. The Buttonwood Inn's harbor was too shallow, and the state wouldn't let them dredge. Joan had a deepwater dock. Two years ago she had said she would give it to them, then she had said no, even though Lois had gone over there and practically begged her. Joan had screamed through the door, I said no, now get out! Martin was content to let it go, but if they didn't have deep water, they could never accommodate bigger boats.
"We need the dock," Lois said, "but I can't testify against Joan. I can't."
Doug leaned so close she could smell his cologne and count his eyelashes. "Have you seen the house lately? It breaks my heart, how Aunt Joan lets it deteriorate. Do you remember how beautiful the house was when my grandparents lived there? Teddy brought you out to visit, didn't he?"
"Yes. It was a beautiful house. The chandeliers and the fireplace and the oriental carpets. We used to sit on the porch and watch the moon on the ocean, and the stars—"
"I want to restore it, Lo."
Her heart leaped. "Would you live there?"
"I'd be there on weekends. We'd be neighbors, wouldn't we?" He smiled, and his lips shone. "I need you to make it happen." He took her hand and smoothed her fingers over his. He pressed his lips to her skin. She wanted to moan, to cry. Joy, exultant and giddy, surged through her body. She leaned toward him and rested her head on their joined hands.
"Yes, Douglas. Yes. If you need me, all you ever have to do is say so."
"And could you... check on Aunt Joan a couple of times a week for me? Could you do that?"
Lois raised her head. "Check on her?"
"You know. See how she is. Take a look around."
"Joan won't let me in. She doesn't like me."
"You could take her a casserole or something."
"Why do I have to check on her? Let Arnel Goode do it. He's over there nearly every day."
"Listen to me, Lois. Somebody has to say to the judge, 'Why, yes, Your Honor, I visited Ms. Lindeman many times. It's so sad. She recites all the lines from her movies, over and over. She smelled like she hadn't bathed in a week. There was nothing in the fridge but caviar, beer, and moldy take-out from the hotel restaurant. The condition of her house was shocking! There are liquor bottles, roaches, garbage everywhere. She thinks that space aliens are watching her through the TV, and the FBI is tapping her phones.'"
"I can't say that."
"Yes, you can. Sandra was going to."
Sandra. Lois felt the cold wind of betrayal sliding across her neck. A few times, sitting in her car across the street watching for a glimpse of Douglas, she had seen Sandra McCoy come into this office, and it wasn't to deliver legal papers from the resort. Lois had imagined them on that couch over there, or on the carpet. Maybe Sandra had straddled him as he sat in that very chair, her tarty red hair swinging across his face. The girl had no morals. Twenty-two years old. They could go after any man, girls like that, and make a man lie about it. At the resort, Sandra had made her sly little smiles whenever Doug Lindeman's name had come up, and Lois had wanted to slap her.
"Were you involved
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