Obsession

CHAPTER 25

She arrived five minutes early, clutching a padded envelope. Gray knit gloves sheathed her hands though the weather was mild.

In the office, she tore the envelope flap, pulling out a photo and a sheet of lined paper folded twice over.

The snapshot showed Patty and Lester Jordan standing next to each other in the dirty-custard space that was Jordan’s living room. His hair was dark, wispy, and plastered to his skull. His eyes bagged, his legs bowed. A gray sweatshirt provided bulk that fooled no one.

Patty’s stocky body tilted toward Jordan, as if she was ready to break his fall.

Tanya unfolded the lined paper and handed it to me. The creases were grubby and the edges were fuzzy. A note in blue ballpoint printing read:

To the alleged Florence nightingale: I’m giving this back to you because you don’t give a damn. I don’t know why you think it’s professionally ok to do what you did. The old bastard’s rich, he can get anyone to change his diapers but who’s going to walk me around and wake-shake if I need that? I can understand others being manipulated by that a-hole’s $$$$$ but why you, Pat? You always said $$$$$ wasn’t a big deal to you. You always said honesty was everything, Pat. Obviously, all that talk about honesty was just the usual bullshit like what they shovel in all those fucking rehabs. Don’t get me wrong, Pat, I’m not p.o.’d, I’m HURT. Capital H. And you know where that leads with me, Pat. What else am I supposed to do, Pat? And whose fault will it be if I fall hard, Pat?

Enjoy the rest of your life.

Les

Tanya said, “He says he’s not mad but that’s rage. Do you believe his arrogance? ‘Wake and shake’? She got him through an overdose, probably saved his life, so instead of being grateful, he guilt-trips her? And that last part-‘You know where that leads with me.’ He’s threatening to O.D. again, right? Implying it’ll be her fault. How does someone get so entitled!”

I said, “That’s an addict focusing on his own needs.”

“He probably became an addict because he was selfish. And weak. All those people who can’t hold it together.”

Her cheeks were ripe cherries. Her shoulders had bunched so sharply that her lapel rode up around her ears. She shook loose a torrent of hair, grabbed a handful, and twisted.

I sat down, motioned for her to do the same. She didn’t move, finally plopped on the couch.

“She did take excellent care of him,” I said. “That’s the reason Kyle’s father wanted her to care for his father.”

“The ‘A-hole with money.’ Wasn’t it his right to spend his money any way he wants? The colonel was dying, Dr. Delaware. Caring for him was good use of Mommy’s time.”

“Jordan wasn’t.”

“Look how he treated her, Dr. Delaware. You can’t call that rant rational. I don’t care what his problems were, there was no excuse. It’s not like he and Mommy were best friends. After seeing the picture, I vaguely remember seeing him-didn’t even know his name. Kyle barely knew him. Jordan lucked out by having a highly skilled nurse as a neighbor. When it was time to move on, he should’ve thanked her, not threatened to mess himself up.”

She slapped her knees. “I’m just so tired of people not being fair.”

I said, “You’re right. He should’ve been grateful.”

“After all she did for him, from the bottom of her heart.”

“Your mother was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met but we have learned that she got paid to look after Jordan.”

“How do you know that?”

“Kyle’s mother told us.”

“Her.”

“You know her?”

“Kyle told me what an incredibly self-centered person she is, never had time for him. Maybe it runs on that side of the family.”

More hair-pulling. “Okay, she got paid. Why not? But that doesn’t change things. It was Mommy’s right to move on.”

“Of course it was,” I said. “So you and Kyle have been talking regularly.”

“We hung out on campus a couple of times and yesterday we went to Coffee Bean. And I did ask him about Jordan but like I said, he barely knew him.”

“Has he seen the note and the photo?”

“No. Do I have to keep it a secret?”

“For the time being, that might be a good idea. How does Kyle feel about his father?”

“He’s okay with him. Why?”

“The detective investigating Jordan’s murder wants to talk to any extended family she can find. She’s been looking for Myron Bedard but hasn’t been able to locate him. Supposedly, he’s in Europe.”

“He is,” she said. “Paris. He called Kyle yesterday, offered to fly Kyle over, but Kyle’s too busy with his dissertation. Why does the detective want to speak to extended family?”

“That’s often where an investigation starts.”

“I thought this was a drug murder.”

“No one’s sure what it is, Tanya.”

She let out a long breath. “So she got paid. Why should she donate her time?”

“I didn’t want to upset you-”

“You didn’t. I appreciate the honesty. It means you respect my intelligence.”

She got up and paced the office. Tried to straighten a picture that was waxed in place, sat and jabbed a finger at the photo. “What I don’t get is why would she keep it all these years?”

“Maybe it meant something to her.”

“You’re saying she did feel guilty?”

“No, but she was a compassionate person,” I said. “Jordan’s pain could’ve touched her.”

“I guess…I’m so angry. It’s not a feeling I’m used to. I don’t like it.”

She buried her face in her hands. Looked up. “They’re coming back-my symptoms. I feel like I’m losing control. The house is so quiet at night, it’s worse than noise, I can’t sleep. Last night I fooled with my curtains for half an hour and then I washed my hands till they got like this.”

Tearing off a glove, she showed me knuckles rubbed raw.

I said, “We can work on all that.”

“Can or should?”

“Should.”