to the Purcells. “He’s rude. Miserably rude. Jazz seems overwhelmed by him.”
“Doesn’t know how to be a daddy?” Dwayne guessed.
“Logan’s a handful. Jazz seems worn down. Orchid did get kind of chatty about Logan. She talked about Jennifer—Logan’s mom and Jazz’s wife—who died last Christmas in an auto accident. It was a hit-and-run. Logan and Jazz were in the car. Jazz ended up in the hospital for a bit, but Logan was unhurt.”
“You want to feel sorry for the kid but you don’t like him, so it’s hard.”
That about summed it up, all right. “The kid probably has lots of issues.” I was trying to be fair but Dwayne can read me like a book.
“Doesn’t mean you have to like him.”
“Nope.”
“Okay, so back to Nana. Give me more about that meeting.”
I took a bite and closed my eyes, partly because I wanted to put my interview with Orchid in order, partly because the chili was hot and spicy and better than it had any damn right to be. I wanted to hurry through one bite so I could get to the next. I envied the way Dwayne could eat a third of the foot-longer in a bite. I had ordered a regular size dog and now was wishing I hadn’t been such a girl about it. Give me fat and nitrates and lots of ’em.
I started talking. Dwayne, for all his faults, can be a good listener. He waited while I told my story.
In Orchid’s presence, I’d felt a bit like a parent or a jailer. She’d talked on and on about Logan, like a girl with her first crush. Any attempt I made to change the subject was met with resistance. I swear she invented ways to bring him back into the conversation. I couldn’t shake her from talking about him, so in the end I just let her go on for the better part of an hour. I learned that Logan was genius smart, that he was handsome enough to be a model, or maybe an actor, and that he was patient as a saint as he’d taught Orchid how to operate Game Boy—and oh, goodness, she’d gotten so good at it! Those little buttons were so small, but dearest Logan had showed her the menu screen. She just loved that it was called a menu.
At this point she’d actually clapped her hands and chortled. Honestly, all the praise for dearest Logan was gaggy enough to make me want to puke. I kept an interested look on my face by sheer willpower.
Finally, as she ran down, I said to her, “Jazz is worried that no one’s looking out for your best interests.”
“Come on, girl. Tell the truth. They’re all worried about the money.”
“Jazz just wants to make sure you get what you want, not what they want.”
“You make it sound like a war.”
“I don’t know what it is,” I told her. “But I think everyone would agree that you should meet with an estate lawyer.”
“Like Mr. Neusmeyer?” She smoothed her skirt.
I instantly felt my insides contract. Of all the lawyers in the state of Oregon—and believe me, they’re thick on the ground—she had to contact Neusmeyer? I’d had a run-in with the man a few months prior. In a bid to gain information, I’d pretended to be someone else—someone other than an investigator—someone with even less scruples than I possessed myself. Jerome Neusmeyer was known for casting an eye toward younger women, so I’d assumed a fake name and approached him, making clear that I was interested in being an estate beneficiary and that I could be bought. Neusmeyer had jumped on the idea—and jumped on me. Extricating myself from the situation had been tricky. I could still feel the imprint where he’d squeezed my breast. The idea that he was involved with the Purcells left me searching for an exit tout de suite.
I would have run from the room right then and there, but Orchid had turned away to glance out the window and stare up at the sky. The gnarled oak that reached toward the house was losing its leaves. She said, as if in conversation with it, “I don’t remember what happened to her.”
I’d been lost in thought at that point, wondering if Dahlia might not be right and that this dementia-thing was an act. She knew who Neusmeyer was, all right. Now, I keyed into what she was saying. “What happened to who?” I asked.
“I think it was my Percy’s fault. But he was a good man,” she added instantly, as if afraid she might be overheard maligning her late husband. “He didn’t mean to drive her away.”
“Are you talking about your…daughter?” I moved closer to her, craning my neck to look up at the sky, too. What was this? Some kind of confession?
“Sometimes I think she’d still be here if we’d just listened a little more. That’s the way it is with children, don’t you know. You have to listen to what they’re not saying more than what they’re saying.”
“Yes.” I agreed with her. She seemed entirely sane. Thoughtful, even.
Then she suddenly glanced around furtively and whispered, “I just don’t want anything bad to happen.”
“Nobody does,” I answered automatically. She looked unsure, so I added, “Nothing bad’s going to happen.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t, I guess.”
“I want her back.” Orchid’s face tightened, and she suddenly looked as stubborn as a two-year-old. Then her expression cleared. “But I have Logan. And Jazz!” as if she’d just remembered.
“Yes,” I agreed, and that was pretty much the end of our discussion. It definitely left me feeling undecided about her mental state, not exactly the news Jazz would want to hear. Now, I said to Dwayne, “She needs to be looked at by a professional.”
Dwayne, who’d been listening intently to my story, asked, “You think she meant Jazz and Logan’s mother?”
“Lily’s the one that’s gone.”
“She died in the sanitarium?” I nodded and Dwayne added drily, “Doesn’t speak well for how she feels about the rest of her family.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“What about them?” Dwayne asked. “You think they’re tryin’ to steal her money?”
I chewed thoughtfully and mentally ran through my impressions of the Purcells.
“Hard to say. I think they pretty much keep her isolated and confined to her room. There’s no phone, and I didn’t get the feeling she has lots of visitors. Maybe she likes it that way. Maybe it’s a protection for her. She could be easy prey for anyone trying to get a chunk of Purcell money. Beyond that, Orchid’s got some deep fear. Or, maybe that comes from starting to lose your mind. She needs a doctor and a lawyer.”
“Your buddy. Neusmeyer.” A smile played around Dwayne’s lips. He knows all about my “relationship” with the estate lawyer. “So, what did you tell Jazz?”
“I haven’t really told him anything yet. He wants to meet tomorrow. He asked me a couple of questions and then we just sort of left it.”
Actually, I’d walked downstairs after the meeting with Orchid and breathed a
