Don't Believe a Word Read online

  ‘More publicity for Flynn Darby,’ said Ron grimly.

  ‘It’s not fair. No other house will want me,’ said Eden. She was glad they weren’t Skyping. He would have seen her face, and she knew that her eyes were red and wet with tears of frustration.

  Rob was in no mood to be reassuring. ‘I’ll talk to Maurice tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know what he says.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning,’ said Eden.

  Rob did not reply. They ended the call.

  An hour later, Eden was still sitting in her chair, staring out blankly at the desolate courtyard, contemplating her imminent unemployment, when her phone rang. She did not recognize the number, but she answered it anyway.

  ‘Hey,’ said a gruff voice. ‘This is Steve.’

  Steve who? Eden thought. ‘Steve?’

  ‘From the motel. Put me on FaceTime.’

  ‘Oh, Steve,’ said Eden, amazed to have a return call from the desk clerk in Toledo.

  ‘Yeah, I got somebody here wants to speak to you. Put me on FaceTime.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Eden. ‘Give me a minute.’ In no time, she was looking at the sallow face of Steve, peering out from the screen of her iPad.

  ‘Oh, hi there,’ he said, as if Eden was the one who had placed the call.

  ‘Is this about my stepfather?’ Eden asked. ‘Do you know something?’

  Steve glanced away from the screen and nodded. ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘You see, I just got to thinkin’. Maybe he had company while he was here.’

  ‘Company?’

  ‘There’s a lot of gals who work the corners around here.’

  It took Eden a minute to understand. ‘You mean, hookers?’ she asked.

  Steve nodded.

  Eden frowned. ‘No. I can’t imagine that.’

  ‘Why? ’Cause he’s good-lookin’? ’Cause he’s married?’

  Eden understood what he was saying. ‘I guess that’s naive, isn’t it?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ he said. He looked up and gestured to someone on the other side of the camera. ‘Talk to her,’ he said.

  A woman wearing a pink fur bomber jacket, her dyed blond hair a messy haystack, walked directly up behind Steve’s chair. She bent over and waved at the screen. Eden could see substantial cleavage at this close distance, as well as layers of make-up and fake eyelashes. She was fortyish. She might once have been pretty.

  ‘This is Cassie,’ Steve said as he gave up his chair to the blond. The blond woman gave Eden a nod.

  ‘Steve showed me the picture you sent him on his phone. I showed it around to the other girls. One of my girls recognized him. She’s outside. Do you want to talk to her?’

  ‘Do I …? Yes,’ said Eden. ‘Yes. Absolutely.’

  ‘Okay. Now that you’re on the line, I’m gonna go get her.’

  Eden felt her heart pounding. ‘All right. If you don’t mind.’

  ‘I’ll be back,’ said Cassie. She stood up, taking the phone with her out of the frame.

  ‘Don’t go far,’ said Steve to Cassie. ‘That’s my phone you got there.’

  Cassie’s response was unintelligible.

  ‘And hurry up about it,’ said Steve. ‘I can’t spend all day and night doing this.’

  Steve looked back at Eden almost bashfully. For a moment, they were both at a loss as to what to say.

  ‘I just want to thank you,’ said Eden. ‘For calling me back. Frankly, I didn’t expect this.’

  Steve grimaced as if she had insulted him. ‘I wasn’t doing nothing else,’ he said, eager to deny his chivalry.

  ‘I have to ask. Why did you call me back?’ she asked. ‘I mean, you didn’t have to.’

  Steve looked up from the iPad. ‘I got a customer,’ he said. He stood up and began speaking to the person who was checking in. Eden could hear their voices, but not what they were saying.

  She waited patiently. In spite of herself, she thought about her mother and how, when she was young, Tara used to delight in every story Eden brought home from school. She would always respond with such enthusiasm, wanting more details. Eden hadn’t allowed herself to think about that side of her relationship with Tara in years. But now the memories came, unbidden. It was impossible not to miss her mother when she remembered those afternoons. For so long, anger at Tara was the only emotion she would allow herself to feel. But something had changed on this journey. And this video conference with a prostitute, Eden realized, was the kind of story Tara would have relished.

  Steve sat back down in front of the computer and cleared his throat. ‘She ain’t back yet,’ he said.

  ‘I can wait,’ said Eden.

  ‘I guess the thing was, I kept thinking about you saying how your mother wouldn’t’a killed her own kid. Even if she was down. Made me think about my ma. She wouldn’t’a done that either.’

  ‘That was why you called me back?’ Eden asked.

  ‘I kept thinking about it,’ he said.

  ‘Well, thank you,’ Eden whispered. It is important, she thought to herself. This man knew it. She knew it.

  ‘Oh Lord,’ Steve complained cheerfully. ‘Here they come.’

  Eden felt her heart suddenly thudding.

  Cassie and a young girl with brown skin and long, dyed-red hair, her cleavage visible between the snaps of her jean jacket, crowded in behind Steve. ‘This is Marsha,’ Cassie said into the screen.

  Marsha wagged black painted fingernails. ‘Hi,’ she said smiling, showing her gray, meth-ruined teeth.

  Cassie looked at Eden over Marsha’s shoulder. ‘He hired her,’ she said.

  Eden stared.

  ‘Tell her,’ said Cassie.

  ‘Let me get out of the way,’ said Steve, ceding the chair to Marsha.

  Marsha tossed her hair and then pulled long strands nervously between her shiny black fingernails. ‘He told me he was a writer,’ she said, snapping her gum. ‘He was cute. He was like a motorcycle guy but also like a little lost boy.’

  ‘That sounds like him,’ said Eden, shuddering. ‘Do you remember what time you were with him?’

  ‘Oh, I wasn’t with him. He hired me for the girl,’ said Marsha, smiling.

  ‘The girl?’

  ‘Yeah, the raghead girl.’

  ‘Aaliya?’ Eden could barely disguise her shock.

  The young hooker shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. She didn’t want me to know her name. The guy was her teacher. He told me she wrote a story for his class and that was how he knew that she was into girls. He said she had zero experience.’ Marsha lifted her hair and tossed it. ‘He got that right. She was scared as a rabbit.’

  Eden shook her head. ‘She didn’t know you were … coming …?’

  ‘Nope. I told her that he hired me as a present for her. I tried to get her to take a drink to loosen up, but she wouldn’t drink. You know. Against her religion.’

  Eden shook her head. ‘I can’t believe this.’

  Marsha looked at the computer slyly. ‘I tried every trick to get her to relax, to give him his money’s worth, but she wasn’t having any of it.’

  ‘And what did Flynn want out of this?’ Eden demanded. ‘To watch?’

  Marsha shook her head. ‘Nah. He wasn’t into the kink. I think he was just trying to help her out. I don’t know. He had his own room, he said. He paid me and then he left. Left me with her.’

  Flynn was being helpful, Eden thought doubtfully. What had Aaliya said? He had good … intentions. Maybe so, but Eden was busy calculating. Flynn could have been at a bar in Cleveland at midnight when Aaliya called him to complain about sending a prostitute to her room. He could already have been to the house, sedated Tara and Jeremy, and the car on in the garage to run all night. Aaliya was his alibi, but he had a plan to make sure that she was otherwise engaged. Engaged in something that she would rather die than admit, if it came to that. He could easily have made the drive to Cleveland and back.

  ‘You didn’t see him again.’

  Marsha shook her head, examining the ends of
a hank of her lifeless hair.

  She looked up at Cassie with imploring eyes. ‘Can I go now?’

  ‘Sure,’ Cassie said to the younger girl.

  Marsha jumped up from the seat like a schoolgirl who had just completed an oral pop quiz. Steve sat back down.

  ‘Thanks, Cassie,’ he said to the woman who had left the frame.

  ‘No problem,’ she called back.

  ‘Told ya she’d know,’ said Steve.

  ‘You were right,’ said Eden, trying to absorb what she had just heard. Flynn was not having an affair with Aaliya. Not at all. He had hired a prostitute to introduce his bashful, religious intern to sex with another woman. Aaliya had spurned the prostitute’s advances, but she had given him an alibi from which she could never retreat. How to explain this to her family?

  ‘Looks like the bastard didn’t do it after all. He was just doing that girl a solid. You know. Trying to give her a little taste of life. Them ragheads keep those girls under lock and key.’

  Eden looked at him in disbelief. ‘A taste of life?’ she said.

  ‘So it must have been an accident,’ said Steve, trying to cross the Ts and dot the Is of this mysterious death.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Eden.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘You wanted proof that he was here. You got your proof.’

  ‘I’ve got something,’ she admitted.

  ‘Well, that’s all the information I got,’ he said, sounding slightly offended.

  Eden was immediately reminded that he had gone out of his way for her sake. ‘I really appreciate your calling me,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell you how much.’

  ‘That’s all right. Hey, you bitches,’ Steve growled good-naturedly, ‘get back here with my phone!’

  Eden heard shrieks of laughter, and then the screen went black.

  NINETEEN

  After the abrupt end of her Skyping with the denizens of the Stella Motel, Eden sat back, more confused than ever by what she had learned. That alibi of Flynn’s was no alibi at all. In a gesture that was both wildly inappropriate and possibly calculated, he had tried to make sure that Aaliya would never tell what had gone on at the Stella Motel. He was not seducing his student. Perhaps he had a larger plan for her. To use her vulnerabilities against her. Of course, he had not bargained for the fact that Aaliya took her religion seriously and would not succumb.

  Eden pushed away the iPad, folded her arms on the table and put her head down on them. But how could she prove it? As much as she wanted to build some kind of case against Flynn, she was never going to get Aaliya to admit what had happened to the police. If her aunt and uncle found out, they would probably forbid her to go back to college. Eden couldn’t imagine herself putting the girl in such a terrible position.

  I can’t wait to leave this place, she thought. She sat up, pulled the iPad toward her and began to check on flights home. Tomorrow, she thought. Even if it costs more to book it at the last minute, I’m ready to go. She had just about finished her arrangements when the phone rang.

  She looked at the screen and saw that it was DeShaun Jacquez. This was probably about the autopsy. What does it matter now? she thought. The police version was going to stand. Murder/suicide. She answered the call, prepared to thank DeShaun for taking the time to look at the report, and put an end to it.

  ‘Eden,’ he said.

  ‘Hi, DeShaun.’

  ‘Eden. I was wondering if you could come over to the hospital. I wanted to talk to you and I don’t get off of my shift until after ten.’

  ‘Is this about the autopsy?’ she said. ‘Because I’ve kind of … changed my mind about pursuing this. I mean, I’m really very, very grateful that you looked it over for me …’

  ‘Look, um, I’m on the fourth floor, in pediatrics. Can you come over here now?’ he asked. ‘It’s important.’

  Eden sighed. The night was closing in. Tomorrow, she would be on her way to the airport and out of this place. But she really owed it to DeShaun, after he had spent his precious time and expertise on the report, to at least go over there and speak to him about it. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll be over shortly.’

  It was rush hour, and the traffic was terrible. A light rain had begun to fall, and it was threatening to freeze on the highways. Eden wished she had never agreed to this, but once she was en route, it seemed stupid to backtrack. It was nearly six when she finally reached the hospital. The lobby was quite a bit quieter than it had been during the day. She got into the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor.

  The pediatrics wing was gaily decorated with fluffy stuffed animals and balloons painted on the walls. But nothing could dispel the anxiety which was palpable in the air. What could be worse, Eden thought, than to have a child so sick that they ended up in this cutting-edge medical facility? For a moment, she thought of her mother, coming here with Jeremy, over and over again. Knowing that he would never get better. Hoping against hope. I should have tried to be a help to her, Eden thought, and, for once, there was no querulous answering argument in her mind. She should have tried, and she knew it. Being in this place had, at least, made that clear to her. It was an uncomfortable truth, but strangely, it was soothing. She accepted the responsibility for her mistake. File under an extreme case of ‘live and learn’, she thought.

  She walked up to the nurse at the desk. ‘I’m looking for Dr Jacquez,’ she said.

  ‘I can page him for you,’ said the woman. ‘Sit over there.’

  Eden did as she was told, and tried not to glance into any rooms and stare at the tiny patients, or their suffering parents. Just then DeShaun strode up to where she sat. His dark skin made an appealing contrast with his lab coat. With his glasses and stethoscope, he might have been a guy from a hospital drama on television.

  ‘Eden, hi,’ he said. He gestured behind him with a manila file he was holding. ‘Could you come in here with me?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Eden, following him down the spotless hallway. He moved quickly, and she had to rush to keep up with him. Halfway down the corridor he pushed open a door and glanced inside. Then he gestured to her.

  ‘In here,’ he said. ‘We can have some privacy.’

  Eden followed him into the small, private lounge and sat down. She noticed there were religious tracts on the table, and boxes of Kleenex. DeShaun sat down opposite her and riffled through the file in his hand.

  ‘That’s it?’ Eden asked. ‘The autopsy?’

  DeShaun nodded and flipped through the pages. Then he frowned, and handed them and their envelope back to Eden.

  She carefully put them back in the envelope and looked up at DeShaun. She might as well ask, she thought. ‘Anything odd about this? Anything out of the ordinary?’ she asked.

  ‘For the most part, it’s what you already know. They both died of carbon monoxide poisoning. Their tox screens came back positive for benzodiazepines in their systems.’

  Eden shook her head.

  ‘Drugs for anxiety. Barbiturates.’

  ‘Yes, I did know that,’ said Eden, disappointed in spite of herself. ‘The detective mentioned it to me. They assumed my mother gave them to Jeremy so he wouldn’t be aware of what was happening. And probably wanted to numb herself to it as well. Just fall asleep and not wake up. Detective Burt said they found a prescription bottle.’

  ‘Yes, he was right about that,’ said DeShaun. ‘I don’t see anything suspicious about it.’

  Eden nodded. How could she tell him that she had based all her suspicions on the fact that Tara had not met her death with Jeremy by her side? What kind of evidence was that? It was speculation based on pure emotion. ‘Well, I appreciate you taking the time …’ she said.

  ‘If you could just sit down for a minute,’ he said, ‘there is information in this report which is quite significant.’

  Eden looked at him, surprised. She resumed her seat. ‘What information?’

  ‘Also in your mother’s tox screen,’ he said.

  ‘What a
bout it?’

  ‘She tested positive for cholinesterase inhibitors.’

  Eden frowned. ‘Translation,’ she said.

  DeShaun winced, as if something were paining him. ‘They gave you the report, so obviously you are entitled to know its contents,’ he said, as if he were trying to convince himself.

  ‘Okay. Tell me what,’ Eden asked anxiously.

  ‘Your mother was taking a drug called Aricept.’

  ‘I’ve heard of that,’ said Eden, trying to think why. The name was familiar as one of many drugs advertised on television.

  ‘It’s a drug that is prescribed for dementia. For Alzheimer’s disease.’

  Eden looked at him in amazement. ‘What? No, there must be some mistake. She wasn’t even fifty years old.’

  DeShaun looked at her gravely. ‘I’m afraid there’s no doubt. Obviously, it was extremely early onset. Just a devastating diagnosis.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Eden. She fell back against the chair as if he had punched her in the chest.

  ‘This may explain why Tara would have taken her life,’ he said. ‘That’s a very grim future to face.’

  ‘That’s true. Oh God.’

  ‘I’m sure her physician informed her of what the future held. She would become completely helpless in a short time. When the disease begins at this age, its progress can be very, very rapid.’

  Suddenly, Eden felt almost sick with sorrow for her mother, who had been forced to face such a horrible fate. But why didn’t she tell anyone? ‘I wonder if Flynn knew … I wonder who knew about it?’ Even as she said it, she realized that she had not known. Tara had not told her only daughter.

  ‘Well, the doctor who prescribed the Aricept knew, for one. I did a little asking around. Your mother was diagnosed by Dr Shaw. She’s an expert in this field. Her offices are right here in this hospital.’

  ‘Yeah. That makes sense,’ said Eden absently.

  ‘I’m not sure how much Dr Shaw can reveal to you about your mother’s case, because of HIPPA. You know, the medical privacy regulations.’

  ‘But my mother is dead,’ said Eden. ‘Why in the world should privacy regulations apply now?’