Chapter 2 - THE BLUE PILLS
I put the recorder beneath a folded sweater before opening the door.
Vanessa stood in the hallway holding a glass of bourbon.
Mine.
Two fingers of Woodford Reserve.
Exactly the way I drank it.
“You scared me,” she said.
“How?”
“You disappeared.”
“My mother is dead.”
Her shoulders dropped.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She stared at me.
“What does that mean?”
I took the bourbon but did not drink it.
“I asked what happened.”
“I told you.”
“No. You gave me six words. She collapsed. Dr. Bennett came. She died.”
Vanessa stepped into the bedroom.
“She was complaining about headaches all week.”
“Did you call me?”
“She begged me not to.”
“That sounds convenient.”
Her expression changed.
There it was.
Not guilt.
Anger.
“You want somebody to blame because you weren’t here.”
I put the glass on the dresser.
“I want to know why my mother died in my house without anyone calling 911.”
“We did call 911.”
“You just said Dr. Bennett came.”
“He was closer. The ambulance came afterward.”
“Did they transport her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Vanessa rubbed both hands over her face.
“Daniel, she was already gone.”
I looked at the bathroom mirror instead of her.
My left hand wanted to reach for the recorder.
I kept it still.
“What medications was she taking?”
The question caught her.
“What?”
“Her medications.”
“Blood-pressure medicine. Something for her heart. I don’t know.”
“You were taking care of her for three months.”
“We had a nurse.”
“What nurse?”
Vanessa looked away.
“Marjorie.”
“Last name?”
“I don’t remember.”
I nearly laughed.
“You hired a nurse whose last name you don’t know?”
“Your mother hired her.”
My phone vibrated.
Lucas.
I ignored it.
Vanessa moved closer.
“Please don’t do this tonight.”
“Do what?”
“Interrogate me.”
“My mother recorded herself saying the blue pills weren’t hers.”
I had not intended to say it.
Vanessa’s face emptied.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
I knew then that the recorder was real evidence of something.
“What blue pills?” she asked.
Too carefully.
“You tell me.”
“I have no idea.”
“Then why did you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you already knew what I meant.”
She folded her arms.
“You came home after abandoning us for three months and now you’re studying my face like I’m a criminal.”
“Abandoning you?”
“Yes.”
“You begged me to finish the merger.”
“Because your mother begged you to finish it.”
“Then why did she email me at two thirteen yesterday morning?”
Vanessa stopped.
I had not told her about the email.
“What email?”
“Exactly.”
I picked up my phone.
The subject line was blank.
The body contained three words.
COME HOME NOW.
Nothing else.
Vanessa stared at it.
“When did she send that?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
“Who had her phone?”
“She did.”
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
I walked past Vanessa.
She followed me downstairs.
Mother’s bedroom was at the back of the first floor because stairs had become painful after her knee replacement.
The room smelled faintly of lavender and funeral flowers.
Her bed had been stripped.
The nightstand was empty.
Too empty.
Mother normally kept three books, reading glasses, hand cream, and an old yellow legal pad within reach.
Now there was only a lamp.
“Where are her medications?”
Vanessa stood in the doorway.
“I don’t know.”
I opened the bathroom cabinet.
Empty.
“Who cleaned this room?”
“Rosa.”
I walked into the hall.
“Rosa!”
Vanessa grabbed my arm.
“Daniel.”
I pulled free.
Rosa appeared from the kitchen.
She looked sixty even though I knew she was forty-eight.
“Yes, Mr. Daniel?”
“Did you remove my mother’s medicine?”
Rosa glanced at Vanessa.
There it was again.
Fear.
“No, sir.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Mother have blue pills?”
Rosa’s fingers tightened around her apron.
Vanessa interrupted.
“Rosa, you can go.”
“No.”
I looked at my wife.
“She can answer.”
Rosa swallowed.
“Mrs. Hartwell had many medicines.”
“Were any blue?”
“I don’t know the names.”
“I didn’t ask the names.”
She looked toward the stairs.
Then back at me.
“There were small blue tablets in the weekly box.”
Vanessa’s voice sharpened.
“Rosa.”
Rosa flinched.
I stepped between them.
“What happened?”
“Please.”
“Tell me.”
She whispered.
“Your mother said they made her dizzy.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“What did you do?”
“I told Mrs. Vanessa.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“That’s not what happened.”
Rosa stared at her.
“You said Dr. Bennett changed the prescription.”
“I said I would ask him.”
“You told me to keep giving them.”
“No.”
Rosa’s face changed.
For the first time, fear turned into anger.
“Yes.”
Vanessa stepped backward.
“You’re confused.”
“I am not confused.”
Lucas entered from the foyer.
“What’s happening?”
Nobody answered.
Rosa looked at him and went pale.
Lucas’s attention moved immediately to her.
“Why are you still here?”
That question was wrong.
This was my house.
Rosa had worked for my family for fourteen years.
He sounded like her employer.
I turned toward him.
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
Lucas smiled.
“I meant tonight. It’s late.”
Mother’s recorder felt heavy upstairs.
I looked at Rosa.
“Where are the blue pills now?”
She hesitated.
Then she pointed toward the laundry room.
“The trash.”
Vanessa stared at her.
“You threw out medication?”
“No.”
Rosa’s voice dropped.
“Mr. Lucas did.”
Lucas gave a short laugh.
“This is absurd.”
“When?”
“After Mrs. Hartwell died.”
I looked at him.
“Why were you throwing away my mother’s medication?”
He opened his mouth.
Before he could answer, Caleb appeared at the end of the hall.
“I saw him do it.”
Lucas turned.
Caleb lifted his chin.
“He took the pill organizer, two prescription bottles, and the blue tablets out to the trash bin at three seventeen this morning.”
“How do you know the time?”
Caleb looked directly at me.
“Because Mrs. Hartwell told me if anything happened to her, I was to write down everything Mr. Grant did.”
Lucas’s face went rigid.
May you like
Then headlights swept across the front windows.
A Charleston County patrol car rolled into the driveway.
