Don't Believe a Word Read online

  ‘What if she didn’t?’ Barry Preston suggested bluntly. ‘What if Flynn Darby arranged it to look as if she did?’

  Eden tried to take in what they were saying. ‘You think that Flynn murdered my mother? And his son?’

  Tim McNee grimaced slightly. ‘Ms Radley, we’re just suggesting that there are questions. And our countersuit would be much more … convincing if you were to join us.’

  Eden frowned at him. ‘What do you mean? How could I join you?’

  ‘It wouldn’t require anything more than a few signatures from you. Harriman will absorb all the legal costs. But as the contingent beneficiary, your name would be on the suit against Mr Darby. In the eyes of the court, that would strengthen our case enormously.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she demurred.

  ‘Look,’ said Barry Preston, ‘I know you’d rather not even think about the possibility, but if there is a chance that Mr Darby is going to have a huge payday after getting rid of your mother and his severely handicapped son, I’m sure you would want to … try to prevent that?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Eden. ‘It’s just … I can’t believe he would do it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, in his book—’

  ‘His book?’ Preston asked.

  Eden took a deep breath. ‘Look, I may as well tell you. Mr Darby has written a novel about his life with my mother and Jeremy, and it is going to be published by the company I work for. In fact, I am going to be the editor on the project. That’s why I am here in Cleveland, right now.’

  ‘Your father never mentioned that.’

  ‘He doesn’t know,’ Eden admitted. ‘I haven’t told him yet. I doubt he’s going to be very happy about it.’

  Barry Preston’s eyes widened. ‘And this … book came about recently? By chance?’

  ‘No,’ said Eden patiently. ‘No, he’d been writing it for years. He brought it to my company because he wanted me to work on it.’

  Barry Preston seemed to be stunned into silence by this news.

  ‘I think he felt that I could add a unique perspective,’ Eden said, knowing that was not the case. It even sounded feeble when she said the words aloud.

  ‘That works out nicely for him,’ said Preston sarcastically.

  ‘Meaning what?’ Eden asked.

  Barry Preston shrugged. ‘Well, you couldn’t really work on his book and sue him at the same time,’ he said.

  Eden frowned and did not reply.

  ‘With this contract, he has very neatly removed you from the picture.’

  ‘You’re implying that he sold the book to my publisher, and sought my advice as an editor, just to get me out of the way?’

  ‘I’m saying that you need to consider the possibility.’

  ‘But, there was no … problem about the insurance when he sent us the book. That just arose with the anonymous tip, right?’

  ‘There’s been a problem with the insurance since Day One,’ said Preston. ‘Your stepfather was impatient for the payout from the word go. He became extremely belligerent when we indicated that we needed to investigate the circumstances of your mother’s death.’

  Eden felt sick. ‘Maybe … I don’t know … maybe he felt that he was entitled to the money and he just wanted to … be paid what he was owed.’

  ‘Maybe. But we’ve been in this business a long time. His attitude sent up red flags to us. And now that you tell us about this book …’

  ‘Red flags how?’ Eden said. ‘What do you think?’

  Barry Preston glanced at Tim McNee and shook his head. ‘I think it’s a shame you can’t join this lawsuit. I think your stepfather was way ahead of us on this.’

  ‘But he couldn’t have done what you’re suggesting,’ Eden protested. ‘He loved my mother. He loved Jeremy.’

  ‘That’s the thing about insurance, Ms Radley. People don’t buy it for strangers. They buy it for the ones they love. And then sometimes, that source of protection, bought out of love … Well, for some, it becomes the ultimate temptation.’

  ELEVEN

  Eden closed the door on the investigators, deeply shaken by what she had heard. She surfed the net. She knew that people were capable of the most diabolical behavior. But this? The early dusk of winter had turned to darkness, and the hotel room was almost as dark as the sky. Eden turned on all the lights and tried to get warm, but she felt as if, even in the stuffy confines of this nondescript suite, she was shivering from within.

  Five million dollars. Flynn seemed like a man who didn’t care about money. But was there ever a man born who didn’t care about money? He had seemed so bereft at Tara’s funeral. Barely able to function. But he was being supported by a beautiful young Muslim girl. Not a seductive girl, but still … Could he have done it? And how could he have done it? He was miles away at the time. Or was he? How could you kill someone with carbon monoxide anyway? Disable them somehow, and leave them to inhale the fumes?

  Disabling was not a problem for Jeremy, she reminded herself. But for Tara?

  Tara would not have given up without a fight. She would have fought for her life. And for Jeremy’s.

  A million questions were buzzing in her head. She was supposed to call Rob and discuss the changes on the book. But part of her wanted to just call and resign. Say she could go no farther, and to get someone else. The insurance investigators had put a suspicion in her mind that was impossible to ignore. She could not stop thinking about the pitying way that investigators Preston and McNee were looking at her, as if she had played directly into Flynn’s hands. No. The only thing she could do was to extricate herself from this compromising position.

  And then she forced herself to be reconsider. To think rationally. Was that, indeed, the only thing she could do? Everyone here seemed to accept the unfortunate, official version of events. The police, apparently, had closed the book on this matter. Even Eden’s first impulse was to accept it. But, aside from the insurance investigators, who only wanted to deny Flynn the money, there was no one representing her mother and Jeremy. No one to speak for them. What had Dr Tanaka said? That Tara would never have harmed Jeremy, no matter what, and that something must have been overlooked.

  Eden always thought of herself as a believer in fate and destiny. Maybe now was the time to put it to the test. Perhaps Flynn had inadvertently put her in a position to seek out the truth. The official version deserved to be scrutinized. To have holes poked in it, if necessary. She reminded herself that the only way for her to get the answers she needed was to stay put at this task, in this town, which gave her access, and ask questions of everyone who had known them, had lived around them.

  She wavered for a moment, tempted to just walk away, and then she chided herself. No matter how unpalatable it all was, she had to continue. For her own sins, perhaps, she needed to try.

  She hesitated, then dialed the number which Flynn had given her for Lizzy and waited. Lizzy’s recorded voice answered. ‘You have reached Lizzy and DeShaun Jacquez. Leave a message.’ Eden carefully recorded her message. ‘Lizzy,’ she said. ‘This is Eden Radley. Tara’s daughter. I have a few questions, a few things I wanted to discuss with you. If you could find the time, could you call me back?’ Eden left her number and hung up.

  The next call she had to make, no matter how distasteful it might be, was to Rob, at the office. He seemed happy to hear from her, and hopeful that all was going well. She said that she had no time to talk but she needed to consult with him about Flynn’s idea of the newspaper cutting as the preface to the story.

  ‘Oh, Eden, I’m not … that idea is not appealing to me,’ he said, sounding dismayed.

  ‘Me neither,’ said Eden shortly. ‘But he seems intent on it.’

  ‘You’re going to have to flatter him,’ said Rob. ‘Make him feel that his readers will be horribly disappointed not to hear about this from him, in his own words.’

  ‘I think perhaps he’s trying to hold that back for volume two,’ said Eden, unable to conceal the sarcasm in
her words.

  ‘Writers,’ Rob sighed. ‘Nothing would surprise me. How’s the relationship? Do you feel like you have some influence with him?’

  Eden thought about the insurance policy, and the investigator’s suggestion that Tara’s death was not suicidal. ‘I’m working on it,’ she said. ‘I’ll need to stay here a while longer.’

  Rob assured her that it was no problem, and told her to keep him up to date. Eden ended the call and sat in the cheerless hotel room. Her impulse was to go to the police right now, and demand to see every bit of documentation they had about her mother and Jeremy’s death. But, her phone told her that it was almost five o’clock, and this was not the ideal time for a police visit. She could go in the morning. That way she would be more likely to get results. But she couldn’t just sit there, doing nothing, while this situation roiled around her.

  Just then, her phone rang. She did not recognize the number. She answered. The caller was Lizzy Jacquez. ‘Hi, Eden,’ she said. ‘DeShaun told me that you wanted to talk to me.’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Eden. ‘I do. Do you have a few minutes?’

  ‘I guess so,’ said Lizzy uncertainly.

  ‘I can come to you. Where do you live?’

  ‘Well, actually, I’m staying at my parents’ house tonight.’

  ‘I could come there,’ said Eden. ‘I don’t need too much of your time.’

  ‘All right. Come in half an hour,’ said Lizzy. She gave Eden the address.

  Eden hung up feeling vaguely hopeful. At least this was a beginning. Someone she could question. Someone who had been with Tara before her death and who knew what her mental state had been. It was a start.

  The Coopers, for that was Lizzy’s maiden name, lived in a house with two front porches, one atop the other. The large, old house was freshly painted and well kept, one of many on a tree-lined street, only minutes from downtown. From what Eden had seen of Cleveland, this neighborhood was somewhat unusual. Unlike the Eastern cities Eden was used to, the majority of dwellings in Cleveland were not apartment buildings, but older, single family dwellings or duplexes, many of them in a sorry state of disrepair. The city had an air of dilapidation, brought on, no doubt, by the disappearance of jobs and factories in the Rust Belt. Traveling past block after block of homes which had seen better days, Eden imagined what Cleveland must have been like in its heyday. Clearly it was, at one time, a city of proud homeowners and comfortable dwellings. Now, most of the city seemed to reflect a certain depression made manifest in its rundown buildings.

  She found a parking spot half a block away, and walked up the crumbling sidewalk to the chain link fence which surrounded the house. She let herself in, looking out for a large dog, which the fence suggested to her. But there was no sound of barking as she knocked on the front door, and a light appeared immediately over the transom.

  The door was opened by a neatly dressed, balding man, holding a newspaper. Before Eden could identify herself, the man said, ‘Come in, come in. You must be Lizzy’s friend. I’m Charlie Cooper.’ He stuffed the newspaper under his arm and extended a hand to her.

  Eden shook it. ‘I’m Eden Radley. Nice to meet you.’

  ‘Come in, Eden. Make yourself at home. Lizzy called me to say that she would be here soon, and for you to wait.’

  ‘Oh, okay,’ said Eden. She came into the cozy living room, filled with overstuffed furniture grouped around a brick fireplace. A delicious smell was coming from the kitchen.

  ‘Something smells great,’ she said.

  ‘Pork chops. My wife is a wonderful cook. Sit down,’ he said. ‘Lizzy tells us you are related to Tara Darby.’

  ‘She was my mother,’ Eden said, perching on the edge of a comfortable club chair.

  ‘She was a lovely woman,’ said Charlie, shaking his head. ‘What a terrible thing.’

  A voice from the kitchen called out, ‘Who was at the door, Charlie?’

  ‘Someone here for Lizzy,’ he called back. At that, a bespectacled woman with short, graying hair appeared in the kitchen door, wiping her hands on her apron, which she wore over plaid slacks and a shapeless sweater.

  ‘This is Eden,’ said Charlie. ‘Eden, this is Lizzy’s mom, Phyllis.’

  The woman frowned at Eden. ‘I know that name,’ she said.

  ‘This is Tara Darby’s daughter, from back East,’ said Charlie.

  Phyllis blanched. ‘Oh my goodness. You’re Tara’s daughter. I’m so sorry for your loss. Your mother talked about you often. Such a terrible loss.’

  ‘I’m glad to meet you, Mrs Cooper,’ said Eden. ‘I heard from a number of people that you helped my mother out by staying with Jeremy sometimes.’

  ‘Well, I worried about her. A person needs a break from all that,’ said Phyllis Cooper. ‘I know what it’s like. I just wanted to help.’

  ‘I really appreciate it,’ said Eden. ‘Everyone here has been so kind.’

  ‘Have you had dinner?’ Charlie asked. ‘Why don’t you stay?’

  Eden recognized the look of alarm on Phyllis’s face. It was the look of a cook who had made three pork chops and now a fourth had been spontaneously invited to dinner.

  ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t possibly. I’m just here to talk to Lizzy. You have a lovely home,’ she said sincerely. It was indeed a lovely home, decorated in warm colors, the furniture comfortable, every surface covered with framed family photos.

  Phyllis smiled, clearly relieved. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She pointed to the kitchen. ‘I’ve got to get back …’

  ‘I’ll help you, darling,’ said Charlie. ‘Eden, you just put your feet up. Lizzy will be along any minute.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Eden, as the couple retreated into the kitchen. They seemed like nice people, but Lizzy was coming here without her husband. She wondered if these two Midwesterners were really on board with an interracial marriage for their daughter. Social attitudes had changed, but sometimes, Eden thought, not all that much. Maybe DeShaun Jacquez wasn’t really welcome in the Cooper household. Eden sat back in the chair, and her gaze roved among the family mementoes and photos in the room. There was a wedding picture of Lizzy and her husband, the two of them dressed in their formal best. It wasn’t front and center, but it wasn’t hidden either. So maybe everything was fine. Maybe DeShaun just had to work tonight. Doctors had notoriously terrible hours.

  Eden’s gaze roved over the other photos. There were numerous photos of a disabled child, some in a wheelchair, some seated among the members of his family, all smiling.

  Eden got up to look closer. She studied the photos of the Coopers’ lost son, Anthony, and wondering if Jeremy had looked like that. Once again, she was reminded that she never knew her half-brother. Never would know him. Tara had given her opportunities, but Eden had avoided them, not wanting to confront the emotional turmoil. That opportunity would never come again. Jeremy, who was, in fact, her only sibling, was gone forever.

  The front door opened and shut, and Lizzy rushed in. Eden hurriedly turned her attention to a different photo. As Lizzy came in and saw her, Eden pointed to the picture. It was a photo of a dreamy-eyed young girl with an abundance of dark hair spilling across the shoulders of a peasant-style dress.

  ‘Eden,’ Lizzy exclaimed, hanging her coat on a clothes tree in the hall. ‘You found us.’

  Eden smiled. ‘Just looking at your family pictures. Is this you?’

  ‘Oh hell, no,’ Lizzy scoffed, as she came in, rubbing her hands. She gazed fondly at the photo. ‘That’s my mom when she was young.’

  ‘Beautiful,’ said Eden.

  ‘I was never that pretty.’

  ‘You are too,’ said Eden kindly, although, in truth, Lizzy was plain by comparison. But there was a spirit and a kind of shining integrity about her that was irresistible.

  ‘Well, thank you,’ said Lizzy. ‘What is it you wanted to talk about?’

  ‘Can we talk privately?’ said Eden.

  ‘Sure. Come in the den. I’m home,’ she called out
as she led Eden down the hallway to a door on the right.

  ‘Hi, darling’, ‘Hi, sweetheart’ came the voices of her parents from the kitchen.

  Lizzy indicated a leather couch. Eden sat on one end, and Lizzy settled herself in the far corner.

  Eden took a deep breath, and began. ‘I appreciate your talking to me, Lizzy. I know you were close to my mother in the last months of her life. How long did you work together?’

  ‘Well, I started my internship at Dr Tanaka’s office in September. So, about … four months,’ said Lizzy. ‘She would bring Jeremy in every week for an evaluation. Some people think it’s overkill, but we like to think of it as being thorough, and amassing as much information as possible.’

  ‘At their house?’

  ‘Occasionally I went to the house to observe. But mostly it was in the office.’

  ‘Did you see any signs that my mother was in that desperate a mental state?’

  Lizzy frowned. ‘No, I wouldn’t say desperate. But I think she had changed recently. She had lost some of her … I don’t know, her hopefulness. I mean, I was mainly there for Jeremy, but I did notice that.’

  ‘Did you ever ask her about it?’

  ‘Of course. Because that was my job. To help deal with the stress. You know. It can be … debilitating.’

  ‘What did she say?’ Eden asked.

  ‘She said it was personal. That she had some personal issues. But she didn’t want to talk about it. She never … never expressed any impatience or anger with Jeremy. No matter the toll it took on her, his life was so precious to her. I went through this in my own family. The strain on the parents is terrible.’

  ‘I’m sure of that,’ said Eden sincerely. ‘I guess people have low points in the course of it.’

  Lizzy frowned and looked at the door to the den which stood ajar. She got up from the sofa, and quietly shut it to prevent being overheard. Then she resumed her seat and leaned forward toward Eden. ‘Raising a child, knowing that they won’t survive. This is one of the hardest things there is. My mom actually had a breakdown. She had to be hospitalized for a while. That’s why she was so worried about Tara. She’d been through it.’