Uncle Calvin was waiting for me when I emerged from the back exit of the hospital. A couple of uniformed officers had taken me out the back way to avoid the press, which I’d greatly appreciated. After the day I’d had and my short time with Harper and her news about Beatrice, as well as her confirmation of the affair, I couldn’t handle anything else. I’d managed to push the pain in my head aside, but now felt I could collapse at any second.
I climbed into his black Ford pickup and secured my seat belt. I was thankful to be going home, but I had no interest in driving myself. When Quinn had offered to have a uniform officer drive my car back to my place, I’d gladly handed over my keys.
My uncle fired the engine to life. “Wow, you don’t look so good. You should have skipped the meeting with Harper and Jenkins. I knew I should have insisted he reschedule when she wouldn’t agree to speak to me instead of you.”
I hadn’t known Harper refused to speak with my uncle, just that she’d wanted to talk with me privately.
“I tried to handle everything so you could rest.” Uncle Calvin scratched his chin.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I needed to speak with her while her memories were fresh. I’m fine. Stop being like Mother.”
He gave a bark of sarcastic laughter, but I knew that’d shut him up. “Jenkins informed you of her situation?”
“Yes. But I’m not ready to give up on Harper’s defense.”
“He’s not giving up on her defense, Lyla. He’s just realistic. Did you get anything from Harper?”
I smiled in the darkness, glad he at least remained interested in the case. “Harper said Beatrice served her some funky tea before the cops arrived. She had no idea what Haldol even was.”
“Funky tea?”
I explained about the tea Amelia called nature’s valium.
“Huh. You need me to stop off anywhere before I take you home? They give you a prescription to pick up or something?”
“Yeah, they called one in. It’d be nice if you could run me through to pick it up. The CVS on Flint Street should have it ready by now.” I pulled out the second ice pack the nurse had given me and cracked it like she’d showed me how to do to activate the cooling beads, before pressing it to my head. I winced on contact.
“Pretty significant knot there, huh?” Uncle Calvin took a left out of the lot after paying the attendant.
“Gran would call it a goose egg, so yeah. But I’ll be fine.”
“Drug-dealing nutcase. This crazy city, I swear.” He gripped the wheel. “A coma is too good for him.” Calvin was one of the best men I knew. He was solid. You could always count on him, and he was the driving force behind my PI career. He’s also headstrong, and his opinion is immovable. His love for his family and me is immense. But sometimes, I get a glimpse of the man he used to be. The Navy Seal he still is deep down. That man is terrifying.
“Listen, if you’re too worn out to discuss the Richardson case, we can—”
“No. It’s okay. I want to discuss it. Harper is counting on us.” I gave him the condensed version of what had transpired and my impression of Mr. Jenkins. Even after the events of the day, I had no intentions of getting behind. “What we need to find out is who benefits most from Leonard’s death and with Harper out of the way. Maybe even dead. She asked me to speak to Charles.”
“Who is Charles?”
I explained what I knew about the writer, which wasn’t much.
“Not sure how some nosy writer can help us. Listen. I know you’re invested in this case. And I won’t try to dissuade you. I’ll do what I can, but I cannot put off other well-paying cases.”
“I understand that, and I won’t let this get in the way of my job.” I shifted and rushed to add, “If the money isn’t sufficient to cover the time, that is.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes.
Calvin cleared his throat. “The ones most likely to profit would be the daughter and son. Especially since the daughter brought her the tea.” I could almost detect the wheels of his brain turning. “Mr. Jenkins mentioned sitting down with the family. It would be a good idea to be there with him when he does.”
“Yes, it would.” I yawned, trying to stay focused. Fatigue began to set in. “The Richardsons are a strange bunch. They all live under one roof. And I’m talking aunts, uncles, cousins, son and a daughter—the whole nine yards. The vibe in the place creeped Amelia and Mel out. Harper told us some odd stories about pooling of family funds.” I shivered and looked out the window. “And the rumors about Harper and LJ are true. I found that out from Harper tonight.”
He grumbled.
“I know it looks bad. But it still doesn’t make her a murderer. Leonard was a total nutcase, and she told me tonight that LJ kicked the cousins out of the house.”
“You went to their house, met the family, when?” He stopped at the intersection. The traffic light was out, and the yellow light blinked rapidly.
“The other day, Amelia, Melanie, and I took food over there. We had no idea how Harper was living until we got there. Her husband was so controlling. He told her how to dress, where she could work, and who she could befriend. She even believes he had something to do with her aunt going missing. She’d had enough. You can’t blame her for seeking comfort wherever she could get it.”
I could see his shoulders tense. “All that and the evidence the police collected is considerably damning.”
“I know. But let’s just say someone framed her. How would we go about proving something like that? Where would you start.”
“Lyla.”
“Come on, Calvin.”
Uncle Calvin shifted in his seat. “We’d have to come up with a solid theory for reasonable doubt. And even if it was a good one, a jury might still convict.”
“Staying with the theory, Harper said there was a fight about the will before the police arrested her.” I planned to find out the truth. I wanted to put the person responsible behind bars, not just to get Harper out of a bind. If we didn’t, who’s to say they’d leave her alone?
I focused on my uncle while he focused on the road and said, “When they read the will, we’ll get some idea where Leonard Richardson’s head was concerning his family. I’ll get in touch with the attorney and find out the plans for the reading. They may be postponing it, after the arrest. I wouldn’t be surprised if Leonard’s assets are frozen during the investigation. And even after the reading, the family can contest it.”
I’d thought about the possibility of frozen assets. I feared Harper wouldn’t have funds to retain legal representation. Still, I’d do what I could to help her. I felt responsible now.
“We also need to know if Harper was involved.”
“Cal—”
“No, Lyla, this is the way investigations work.”
“We are working for the defense.”
“We still need to know.”
“Her attorney said he didn’t care if she was guilty or not.”
He cast a stern glance in my direction. “We care.”
“You’re right.” We rode in silence for a while. Someone in that house knew something. They had to. My head ached, and I did not want to believe Harper could be guilty. “Let’s put a pin in this.”
“Wise. I spoke to your mother earlier when she had a hard time reaching you.”
“I completely forgot to call them. Everything happened so fast, and I was trying to make heads or tails of my attack, and then I focused on Harper.” I put my hand over my mouth, feeling rotten.
“It’s all right. I reassured Frances, told her you were fine. She’s pretty shaken up.”
“I’m sure she is. I’ll call her.” I readjusted the pack against my head. “I’m grateful you reassured her.” A lump developed in my throat when I thought about my mother and then of Leonard Richardson lying there inside her library. I turned in my seat, watching Calvin’s profile in the darkness of the cab.
“I have to tell you something.” I took a deep breath. “I should have told you earlier today.”
He gripped the steering wheel, and I watched his knuckles turn white before he loosened his grip. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”
I told him about my statement to Detective Battle, how I’d described the scene and the body. And about the candlestick that magically vanished. I explained seeing Harper and Mother together and how my mother appeared to be consoling her; how Harper later confirmed my suspicions. I focused on the red taillights in front of us. “And before I sat down with the detective for a recorded interview”—I cleared my throat—“Mother said some strange things.”
“Okay.” He scratched the back of his toffee-colored head.
“Well, Mother pulled me aside before I sat down with the detective. She impressed on me very strongly the importance of not mentioning to the police Harper’s request to locate her aunt. I took a breath. “And she said Leonard did not deserve our sympathy. She more or less said he deserved to die.”
He turned sharply in my direction. Bright red taillights greeted us.
“Calvin!”
He hit his brakes so forcefully that I was flung forward, the seatbelt cutting into my chest.
“Ow!” I held my head with both hands.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He reached over and touched my shoulder. The light changed, and he maneuvered the truck into the drive-through of the pharmacy.
“I tried to convince myself Mother was probably just upset when she asked me, because she seemed to like Harper. And Harper later confessed to having confided in Mother about her situation. Now I don’t know what to think.”
Calvin stared off for a few long moments before he pulled forward. He cleared his throat. “You can’t possibly believe your mother would remove the bloody candlestick from the scene?”
I gave my shoulders a small shrug.
“Lyla.” He shook his head. “Frances probably heard rumors and reached out to the girl. Maybe she feared abuse. You know how your mother does all that work for the battered women’s shelter. She’s an empathetic person. And when the girl confided to her about the hell she was living in, your mother just spoke out of anger.”
“Maybe. What worries me was the way she looked when she spoke to me. I’d never seen her like that before. It wasn’t just lashing out. I’ve seen plenty of that. This was a cold and calculated response.” I battled nausea from the jolt forward. “I need a ginger ale or Sprite or something fizzy. My stomach is threatening a revolt.” I moved the ice pack to the back of my neck and rolled down the window—the cold fall night air rushed inside the cab. I could smell rain in the air. A storm must be brewing.
“I’ll get you one.” Calvin pulled up to the window and asked for my prescription and a Sprite.
I handed him my driver’s license, and he slid it into the open drawer for the attendant. The little metal drawer closed. “In the spirit of full disclosure, I had to tell you. But Calvin, I would have taken it to my grave otherwise.”
“I understand.” His nodded and his green eyes, the exact shade of Mother’s, gave me a pointed stare. He understood I would never betray my mother or any member of my family. I could read that in his eyes. Nodding again, he said, “You leave this with me.”
“Okay.”
He handed me my prescription and pulled out onto the street. “With all the publicity and the oddities surrounding the family and where the murder took place,” he said, shaking his head, “this will rock Sweet Mountain. We have to be discreet in our work.”
“Are you saying we’re working the case?” I took one of the pills from the bottle and washed it down with Sprite. It wasn’t long before my eyes began to grow heavy.
“We are.” My uncle shrugged out of his coat and handed it over to me, saying, “Here.”
“Thank you. I’ll just close my eyes for a second. We should keep talking about this.” I folded the corduroy sports coat into a makeshift pillow and leaned against the window.
“We will. Just rest your eyes for a minute.”
The expressway sounds lulled me into sleep.