Upstairs, all that remained were dying plants, silk flowers, and trees. Casey wandered through the atrium and into Dad’s now empty bedroom, noting the en suite bathroom and the closet. She strolled to the French doors at the far end of the room and looked at the ocean.
A sailboat bobbed in front of the house, its green and white sails flimsy against all that water. Casey reflected on the violence that had occurred in this house and thought about Darcy. Absorbed in her thoughts, she only heard the footsteps when they were almost at the bedroom door. The clicking heels told her this wasn’t a man. Casey’s heart pounded, adrenalin surged, and her face grew warm as Mother sauntered into the room.
Eighteen
WHAT IN HELL was Mother doing here? Casey’s mouth grew dry as she watched her come closer. It was hard to tell which was more shocking, the tears in Mother’s eyes or her youthful appearance. Her hair was the same light gold Casey remembered and, judging from the clingy pink dress, she’d scarcely gained any weight. Pear-shaped diamonds covered her earlobes. She didn’t look like anyone’s mother. And she sure didn’t feel like calling her “mom.”
Lillian removed a tissue from her handbag and dabbed her eyes. As she looked Casey up and down, Casey sucked in her stomach. She felt shabby in her navy slacks and jacket, a feeling she wasn’t used to and didn’t like. A few extra pounds around the middle were nothing to be ashamed of. She let her stomach muscles relax and took a deep yoga breath.
Lillian’s glossy lips parted in a tentative smile. “Why did you color your lovely blond hair, Cassandra?”
“I go by Casey now, and I prefer brown to blond.” She shoved her hands in her pockets to hide the shaking. “What are you doing here?”
“Vincent phoned. He knows I’ve been concerned about you.”
“He didn’t tell me you were back in Vancouver.”
“I asked him not to.” Lillian swept her hand along the marble mantle above the fireplace. “This is a Marcus house, isn’t it? Large rooms, no hallways, plenty of natural light.”
Casey’s fingernails dug into her palms. “Are you here to look for three million dollars?”
A bold smile this time. “All these years apart and you ask about money? You really are a Holland.”
Casey didn’t appreciate the insinuation. “Are you here by yourself?”
“Yes.” Lillian watched her. “Do you know who trashed the living room floor, and why?”
“I have a theory about the person responsible, and I think it’s about the missing three million dollars, right?” She wouldn’t be surprised if Darcy’s treasure hunt had taken him to her locker at work. “Did Theo talk to you about Rhonda and Summer?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll leave them alone? Rhonda doesn’t know anything about the money and there’s absolutely no reason to hurt Summer.”
“I never had any real intention of telling that poor child the truth about her birth mother. I simply wanted to shake Rhonda up, to let her know that telling the truth is important.”
Casey stared. “So, you think that truth is important, huh?”
“I do. You see, I doubt Rhonda’s told you that she knows more about Marcus than she wants to you think.”
The remark soared at Casey like an arrow made of ice.
“I’m sure she claims to have known nothing about this house or its occupant,” Lillian went on. “But ask her to show you a two-month-old snapshot of the man she thought was Marcus. Knowing her as well as I do, I bet she still has it.”
Casey couldn’t hear this right now, didn’t want to discuss Rhonda when more crucial issues were at stake. “Do you know Darcy Churcott?”
Lillian’s violet eyes didn’t blink. “He works for Theo, why?”
Casey tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling. “I should have guessed.” No wonder Theo wouldn’t tell her much about him. “He’s renting a room in our home. Was that Darcy’s or Theo’s idea?”
“Darcy’s. He believes you’ve known where the money is all along. I convinced him that you didn’t know anything. Marcus wouldn’t have dumped that kind of trouble on you.”
“So, Darcy decided to go on his own treasure hunt while I was away and tear up the damn house, right?” Not to mention her apartment.
“It appears so.”
“Then why did Theo tell me that two Mexican clients killed Dad for the money?”
“Because he figured you wouldn’t believe the truth.”
“Which is?”
“Your father earned an enormous fee from those clients and put a portion of it back into the partnership, but not as much as Theo thought he should. Theo was furious with Marcus for wanting to end their partnership to start his own company. He believed Marcus stole clients and feels he should be compensated.”
“Why did Theo say that Dad left the cash for me to find?”
“To entice you to look for it. If you find the money, he’ll take every penny and you’ll never see him again.”
“Why did Dad want to end the partnership?”
“Theo became involved in controversial transactions that Marcus wanted no part of.” Lillian turned and looked at the ocean. “Anyhow, the longer he and Darcy search for the money, the more frustrated they become, and that makes life dangerous for all of us.”
“I already experienced Darcy’s nasty side when he tried to beat the crap out of me.”
The strap of Lillian’s handbag slid off her shoulder. “When was this?”
“A few weeks ago, in this house.” By the time Casey finished describing the encounter, Lillian’s eyes were blazing. Casey couldn’t tell if she was angry with Darcy or her. “Why’s Darcy going to such extremes to find money for his boss? Is there a finder’s fee?”
When Mother didn’t respond, Casey said, “I want him out of Rhonda’s house today.”
“He won’t go until he gets what he wants. You and Summer should leave the city until this is resolved.”
“Why? Will he tear up Rhonda’s house when he’s finished with this one? I wonder why he started with the living room?”
“He found a bit of notepaper showing a wall with an insert that he thought was the entertainment center. An arrow pointed to the chair nearest the TV. Darcy searched it and all of the furniture. When he found nothing, he wondered if Marcus had referred to a spot under the floor.”
Casey recalled the loose sheet with the squiggly lines she’d removed from Dad’s notebook the day she left for Europe. The house address had been written on it, too.
“Darcy took that sheet from my dresser drawer! Summer saw him coming out of my apartment while I was away. He trashed the place, presumably to look for the money.”
“Where did you find the paper?”
“In an old address book.”
“Where was the book?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she replied, “and how did you know about the slip of paper? Are you helping Darcy look for the money?”
“No, but I’m kept informed.”
Casey crossed her arms. “Obviously.”
“Listen to me. Theo suspects you’ve seen your father’s old address book or you wouldn’t have visited the places you did in Europe.”
How could she tell Mother the truth when she didn’t trust her?
“Since the cash hasn’t turned up,” Lillian added, “Darcy’s convinced the real clue is in that book and he wants it badly.”
“I gave the book to Detective Lalonde.” Or she would soon. “Did Darcy kill Dad?”
“Casey, the murdered man wasn’t your father.” Lillian’s mouth trembled just a little, and suddenly she looked tired. “He was Gustaf Osterman. That’s what I wanted to tell you in Paris. I wanted permission to return Gustaf to his family.”
“Osterman?” Casey’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be bloody joking.”