I grabbed my purse and my phone from the bedside table. My phone was dead. No time to charge it now.
I went into the bathroom and turned the shower on full blast, then snuck out of the bathroom, leaving the door closed and the shower running. Pig sat in the hall, washing his chest and giving me awhat are you up to now?look. I crept down the stairs slowly, avoiding the ones thatcreaked. I could hear Diane and my father in the kitchen, talking, Ted asking for a grater.
“Some people chop the carrot, celery, and onion,” he was saying. “But the key to a really fine sauce is to use a grater.”
I slipped right past them and grabbed the keys to Lexie’s car from the hook in the front hall. I opened the door as quietly as I could, then ran for the car, started the engine, and took off without looking in my rearview mirror to see if they’d heard me.
Nice getaway, Jax!
“Thanks,” I said, turning to look at the passenger seat, but of course there was no one there.
I drove straight to the nursing home. I checked in at the front desk and told them who I was there to visit.
If Ryan wasn’t going to confess, I’d try Shirley. How hard could it be to get her to tell me the truth?
“Oh, she’s been waiting for you,” the woman in scrubs said cheerfully.
“Has she?” My throat went dry. I nearly turned and ran back out to the parking lot.
“Yes, she skipped going down to dinner because she was afraid she might miss you.”
I walked down the corridor to Shirley’s room feeling like I was moving in slow motion. I had the terrible sense that I was walking right into a trap. But what harm could an old woman in a nursing home possibly do?
The door to her room was open and she was there, waiting at the little table, playing solitaire.
“What took you so long?” she asked when she saw me. She set the cards aside. “Don’t just stand there, Jackie. Come in. Come in. Shut the door behind you.”
Shirley had the table in her room laid out with cookies and juice, like we were two little girls about to have a tea party. “Sit down,” she said.
I remained standing, arms crossed. “I know who you are,” I said.
“Oh?” She reached for a sugar cookie and took a bite.
“You’re the daughter of Benson Harding and Eliza Flemming.” Shirley said nothing. She just kept chewing her cookie. “Your family believes the springs and the land belong to you. That your father hadn’t been in his right mind when he lost it to my great-grandfather.”
She nodded, set down the cookie, and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “My father died a ruined man. That hotel and everything that happened there—it destroyed him financially, physically, emotionally. My grandparents felt we’d been wronged, yes. They were outraged.”
My head was starting to hurt—a little jab behind my left eye that I knew would soon turn into a full corkscrew twist. Cool sweat began to form on my forehead. The room seemed impossibly bright.
“How far did you go to punish my family?”
“Punish them?”
My mind was whirring. “There was someone with my aunt Rita the night she died. My mother heardtwovoices. Was it you? Did you lure Rita into the water that night?”
“Me?” She looked pained. “Why on earth would I do such a thing?”
“To hurt my family. To get back at them. Did your grandparents put you up to it?”
“No, dear. You’ve got it all wrong.”
The room seemed to waver. I squinted. My left eye was watering.
“What really happened to Lexie?”
Shirley sighed in frustration. “She discovered the truth. But she didn’t listen to my warnings. She didn’t understand how dangerous the situation was.”
This was too much.
