Once Pined. Blake Pierce
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Most people liked Judy Brubaker. People who might find Hallie a bit cloying and sugary enjoyed Judy’s more plainspoken personality.
Maybe Amanda just doesn’t take to Judy, she thought.
For whatever reason, Amanda had told her almost nothing about herself. She was in her forties, but she never said anything about her past. Judy still didn’t know what Amanda did for a living, or if she did anything at all. She didn’t know whether Amanda had ever been married – although the absence of a wedding band indicated that she wasn’t married now.
Judy was dismayed by how things were going. And time really was running out. Amanda could get up and leave at any moment. And here Judy was, still trying to decide whether to poison her or not.
Part of her indecision was simple prudence. Things had changed a lot during the last few days. Her last two killings were now in the papers. It seemed that some smart medical examiner had detected thallium in the corpses. It was a worrisome development.
She had a teabag ready with an altered recipe that used a little more arsenic and a little less thallium. But detection was still a danger. She had no idea whether the deaths of Margaret Jewell and Cody Woods had been traced back to their rehab stays or to their caregivers. This method of killing was becoming riskier.
But the real problem was that the whole thing just didn’t feel right.
She had no rapport with Amanda Somers.
She didn’t feel like she even knew her.
Offering to “toast” Amanda’s departure with a cup of tea would feel forced, even vulgar.
Anyway, the woman was still here, exercising her hands, showing no inclination to go away just yet.
“Don’t you want to go home?” Judy asked.
The woman sighed.
“Well, you know, I’ve got other physical problems. There’s my back, for instance. It’s getting worse as I get older. My doctor says I need an operation for it. But I don’t know. I keep thinking that maybe therapy is all I need to get better. And you’re such a good therapist.”
“Thank you,” Judy said. “But you know, I don’t work here full time. I’m a freelancer, and today’s my last day here for the time being. If you stay here any longer, it won’t be under my care.”
Judy was startled by Amanda’s wistful gaze. Amanda had seldom made eye contact like this with her before.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” Amanda said.
“What what’s like?” Judy asked.
Amanda shrugged a little, still looking into Judy’s eyes.
“Being surrounded by people you can’t fully trust. People who seem to care about you, and maybe they do, but then again, maybe they don’t. Maybe they just want something from you. Users. Takers. A lot of people in my life are like that. I don’t have any family, and I don’t know who my friends are. I don’t know who I can trust and who I can’t.”
With a slight smile, Amanda added, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Judy wasn’t sure. Amanda was still speaking in riddles.
Does she have a crush on me? Judy wondered.
It wasn’t impossible. Judy was aware that people often thought she was gay. That always amused her, because she’d never really given any thought to whether Judy was gay or not.
But maybe it wasn’t that.
Maybe Amanda was simply lonely, and she’d come to like and trust Judy without her even realizing it.
One thing seemed certain. Amanda was emotionally very insecure, probably neurotic, certainly depressive. She must be taking quite an array of prescription medicines. If Judy could get a look at them, she might be able to come up with a cocktail especially for Amanda. She’d done that before, and it had its advantages, especially at a time like now. It would be good to skip the thallium recipe this once.
“Where do you live?” Judy asked.
An odd look crossed Amanda’s face, as if she were trying to decide what to tell Judy.
“On a houseboat,” Amanda said.
“A houseboat? Really?”
Amanda nodded. Judy’s interest was piqued. But why did she have the feeling that Amanda wasn’t telling her the truth – or at least not the whole truth?
“Funny,” Judy said. “I’ve lived in Seattle off and on for years, and there are so many houseboats in the waterways in these parts, but I’ve never actually been on one. One of the few adventures I haven’t had.”
Amanda’s smile brightened and she didn’t say anything. That inscrutable smile was starting to make Judy nervous. Was Amanda going to invite her to visit her on her houseboat? Did she even really have a houseboat?
“Do you do at-home visits for your clients?” Amanda asked.
“I do sometimes, but …”
“But what?”
“Well, I’m not supposed to in situations like this. This rehab center would consider it poaching. I signed an agreement not to.”
Amanda’s smile turned a little bit mischievous.
“Well, what would be wrong with your paying me a simple social visit? Just stop by. See my place. We could chat. Spend some time together. See where things go. And then, if I decided to hire you … well, that would be different, wouldn’t it? Not poaching at all.”
Judy smiled. She was starting to appreciate Amanda’s cleverness. What she was suggesting would still be bending the rules, if not breaking them outright. But who would ever know? And it certainly suited Judy’s purposes. She’d have all the time she needed.
And the truth was, Amanda was starting to fascinate her.
It would be exciting to get to know her before she killed her.
“That sounds marvelous,” Judy said.
“Good,” Amanda chirped, not sounding the least bit sad anymore.
She reached into her purse, took out a pencil and notepad, jotted down her address and phone number.
Judy took the note and asked, “Do you want to make an appointment?”
“Oh, let’s not get all regimented about it. Sometime soon would be fine. During the next day or two. But don’t stop by unexpected. Call me first. That’s important.”
Judy wondered why that was so important.
She’s certainly got a secret or two, Judy thought.
Amanda got up and put on her coat.
“I’ll check myself out now. But remember. Call me.”
“I’ll