Page 113 of The Lady on Esplanade
The toxicology report confirmed my suspicion that Henry hadswiped some of my pain pills when he dropped by with Felicity to check on me and that Camille had added them to her soup.Fortunately, her goal had been only to incapacitate me and not to kill me outright, so it would appear as if I’d overdosed on pain pills and alcohol and fallen down the stairs.After all my efforts to remain sober, that was the part that hurt the most.
“Time to get up, sleepyhead,” Sarah said, mirroring Melanie’s morning greeting.“I’m all packed and ready for the drive to the airport.Jolene has a muffin and coffee waiting for you.”
The image of both did perk me up.Sarah threw off my blanket and quilt.“She says you have exactly forty-five minutes to make yourself presentable and to put a fire under your rear end—her words, not mine.You’ll get your coffee and muffin as soon as you’re done.”
I groaned but allowed her to help me out of bed, and I didn’t even complain when she made me use my crutches instead of hopping.
As I exited the bathroom, dressed in my jeans and a sweater, the doorbell rang.Like Pavlov’s dog, I immediately ducked into my bedroom to apply lipstick before I even knew what I was doing.
“It’s Cooper,” Sarah said, looking at the security app on my phone.I really needed to change my password.
Jolene emerged from the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee and a muffin on a plate.She pulled out a chair at the table and motioned for me to sit.“I’ll go tell him that he’s not welcome here.I wish I had my daddy’s shotgun to show him I mean business.”
“That won’t be necessary, Jolene.I need to talk to him.”
“I’ll let him in,” Sarah said, already heading toward the door.
Jolene and Sarah discreetly retreated into the kitchen as Cooper joined me at the table, his good manners dictating that he remain standing until I told him to take a seat.Which I didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he said.“I should have texted or called when you didn’t respond.”
I looked up at him, the scar on his chin appearing more vivid.“Yes, you should have.Not that it would have made a difference.”Maybe I was more foggy headed than I thought, because I had the uncharacteristic urge to lay everything out then and there.“I know about Lilly.”
I gave him points for not trying to pretend he didn’t know what I was talking about.His fingers absently brushed the scar.He didn’t ask how I knew, and I didn’t volunteer the information.I was still too hurt to add Beau’s part in how I’d learned.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long.It’s like I’m stuck between the past with Lilly and the possibility of a future with you, but my feet are glued to the ground and I can’t move.I’ve been trying, but…”
I wanted to lash out at him, tell him to leave and never let me see him again.But his face reminded me too much of my mom, of how sincere her apologies were during her rare sober moments.“But guilt and remorse are terrible things.Some of us turn to alcohol to smother those feelings.”
He dipped his head.“And some of us drown ourselves in denial and work.”Raising his eyes to meet mine, he said, “So.Are we over?”
“Did we really ever begin?”
He attempted a smile.“I’d like to think so.I think we both felt…something.Something more than just getting over someone.Could we start over—as friends?I need someone to talk to.I haven’t even told my family about Lilly.They knew I was dating someone, but they don’t know the rest.It’s all so…awful.I don’t think I could handle their disappointment in me.”
He sounded so desperate.And so much like me that it hurt my heart.I reached over and took his hands in mine.“I think we could.I think we could be good friends.For now.”
“Good.”He sighed with relief.“I have a rental car.Can I drive Sarah to the airport?I figure that would give you and me a chance to talk on the way back.There’s so much I need to tell you.”
“Same,” I said, needing to tell him about what had happened at the house on Esplanade, and about the doll and the key and Camilleand the rest of it.I also needed to tell him what Sarah had said about Lilly.About why she was angry.And why she needed him to let her go.I checked my watch.“If we hurry, we’ll have time to make a stop.I just need to make a quick phone call first.”
—
Honey was waiting on the steps when Cooper pulled his rental car up in front of the house.The gray Honda sedan—from this vantage point I could tell it was an Accord—sat parked facing the empty carport, its owner no longer attempting to keep it hidden.Joan’s Cadillac was absent; Honey had told me Joan would be gone, at Bible study.
Cooper helped me out of the car and handed me my crutches.“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
“I’m sure.”I began making my way toward Honey, and she met me halfway.
After greeting me, she said, “It’s best that you don’t come inside.And it’s important that you leave before Joan gets back.I won’t call it a conspiracy if you won’t, but the fewer the people who know, the better.”
“Agreed.”I dug into the hip pocket of my jeans and withdrew the storage-room key and fob that had been hidden inside the doll.“I’m guessing you already know what’s in the storage unit.”
She took the key but didn’t answer.I glanced at the elusive gray Honda.“How long have you known that Jessica and Lynda are alive?”
Honey regarded me with her large, round eyes, cobalt blue mascara dusting her eyelashes.“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yeah.I do.I think the trauma of what I went through at the house yesterday grants me the privilege.”
