Nancie and the two detectives nodded like bobblehead dolls.
“That woman had signed a contract to work for the cruise line for a whole year. Daddy bought it out and paid to have a substitute massage therapist flown in at the next port of call. They spent their honeymoon on the ship where she’d been an employee.
“They were only home three weeks when Daddy had that ‘heart attack.’”
Helen could hear the quotation marks around those words.
“He was popping Viagra like candy. The last time I saw Daddy, he was swaggering around like a teenager. He bragged that they hadn’t left the house in four days and made it clear they’d spent it in bed.”
“Wow!” Phil said. “That’s pretty impressive.”
Violet seared him with an angry look. “She was wearing nothing but a negligee at four in the afternoon.”
Phil started to say something, then stopped himself.
Violet rushed into the silence. “That’s why you could get into Daddy’s hospital room, Helen. You could say you were his minister. She never bothered learning anything about him except he had a big bank account. If you went to the hospital, you could sit in the ICU and watch over him. I want you to be his bodyguard at night. That’s when I worry most about Daddy, when there isn’t much activity in the hospital. If you were there, she couldn’t harm him.”
“But I’m not a minister,” Helen said.
“You could be,” Phil said. “Our landlady, Margery, is a minister in the Universal Life Church. You can get ordained online for free.”
Helen glared at her husband. She didn’t like being rushed into this.
“Is that church legal?” Violet asked.
“I sure hope so,” Phil said. “Margery married us.”
“The ordination is legal,” Nancie said, “as long as Helen uses her real name.”
“Let’s do it now,” Violet said. “Helen could get ordained by your office computer.”
“Wait a minute,” Helen said. “Even if I do get ordained, why would Blossom let me in to see Mr. Zerling? She’s kept you away from your own father.”
“Because she wants everyone to think she’s a sweet, concerned wifey,” Violet said. “She’s painted me as a jealous, possessive daughter.”
And you helped with that portrait, Helen thought.
“That woman bribes the hospital staff,” Violet said. “She doesn’t give them money, but she brings in gourmet sandwiches and pizza. There’s always a huge hundred-dollar box of Godiva chocolate at the nurses’ station. They love her. The nurses don’t like me because I’m too proud to buy friends.”
Too bad, Helen thought. We’re going to cost a lot more than chocolates and sandwiches.
“Now will you get ordained?” Violet asked. “Please?”
Helen was a lapsed Catholic. A casual ordination made her feel uneasy. “What about Phil?” she asked. “He could be a minister.”
“I have other plans for him,” Violet said.
“Perhaps you’d care to share them with us,” Nancie said, her words sharp and clipped. “Please remember Helen and Phil will take no action without my approval. Now, let’s hear your idea for Phil.”
“He could be that woman’s estate manager,” Violet said. “She’s advertising for one in the newspaper. That’s what she’s calling the job: estate manager. Have you ever heard anything so pretentious?”
“How big is the estate?” Phil asked.
“It isn’t an estate,” Violet said. “It’s a comfortable house with eight bedrooms and twelve bathrooms. It does need looking after. Daddy had Fran. What that woman wants is a houseman, or a handyman, or even a caretaker. Those are the right terms. But she’s new rich, so she inflated the title to estate manager.”
“Would I have to keep the books?” Phil asked.
“No,” Violet said. “Daddy has an accountant. You’ll deal with the household staff, the pool service, the lawn service, the security service and various repair people. You’ll have to make sure the property is well maintained.”
“I could do that,” Phil said. “Am I qualified?”
Helen bristled as she watched Violet run her eyes up and down Phil’s body. Violet lingered over his broad shoulders and stopped at his striking silver hair, which Phil had pulled into a ponytail.
“Oh, you’re qualified,” Violet said, laughing too loudly. “You’ve got everything she’ll want. Right between your legs.”
“That’s enough, Violet,” Nancie said. “That’s sexual harassment and I won’t permit it in my office.”
“Phil is married,” Helen said. “To me.”
“I’m not that kind of guy,” Phil said, and attempted a laugh, but he was embarrassed.
So was Violet. She’d turned a blotchy red. “I apologize,” she said. “I was out of line. I’ve been upset since Daddy got sick. I hope you’ll forgive my coarse remark. I meant the job as estate manager would get you into my father’s house. Then you can find out who is that woman’s boyfriend and get the evidence to prove she’s trying to murder Daddy.
“She is killing him,” Violet said. “You have to believe me. I’ll spend every nickel I have to prove it.”
CHAPTER 3
The Reverend Helen Hawthorne had been a minister for three minutes, and she didn’t like it. Helen believed women had the right to perform pastoral duties. Now the click of a mouse on a lawyer’s computer made her a minister. She could baptize, bury and legally marry couples in all fifty states.
It didn’t feel right. The power to preside over life’s major milestones should be given in a solemn ceremony, she thought. Being a minister was a sacred duty, even to the nonreligious Helen.
Nancie and Violet applauded when the online ordination was complete, but Helen didn’t feel like celebrating.
“You’ll have an e-mail verification in twenty-four hours,” Nancie said. “I’ll forward it.”
“Congratulations, Reverend,” Phil said, and kissed her cheek.
“May I speak to my partner in private, please?” Helen asked.
“Use the conference room next door,” Nancie said.
Helen dragged Phil into the room, yanked two tall gold-upholstered chairs away from the oak table and said, “Sit.”
Phil sat. He looked puzzled. Helen sat across from her husband.
“Did I say something wrong?” Phil asked.
“Yes,” Helen said. “Don’t ever volunteer me for something again without asking. I’m your partner in our agency. You trapped me into that farce of an ordination.”
“I didn’t think you’d care,” Phil said.
“You could have asked,” Helen said. “And for the record, I do care. Being a minister is a serious business, even to someone like me.”
“I’m sorry,” Phil said. “I thought it was part of going undercover. I’m working as a fake estate manager for Blossom and you’ll guard Mr. Zerling as a minister. Your ordination gives your cover authenticity.”
“Point taken,” Helen said.
“Something else is wrong,” Phil said. “What is it?”
Helen stared down the long expanse of polished oak and tried to find the right words. She wondered if the frugal Nancie had bought the overgrown dining set with the stiff, gold-plush cushions secondhand and recycled it for her conference room. Its ornate style was so different from the lawyer’s own practical office.
Phil interrupted her thoughts. “Helen, we left Nancie and Violet waiting on us. What else is wrong?”
“I don’t like this,” Helen said.
“This what? This case? This client? Do you think Violet is lying?”