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By the time Mother had turned off Marine Drive and disappeared, Casey realized she’d have to ask Rhonda if she’d known about Dad and the house after all.

Nineteen

WHEN CASEY GOT home, she found Rhonda’s and Darcy’s vehicles parked in their usual spots. She hadn’t been home in twenty hours and still didn’t want to face them. How was she supposed to deal with that violent maniac?

She headed up the steps and into the kitchen, where the scent of garlic and oregano filled the room. Spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove. Surrounded by bags of fruits and veggies, Rhonda was on her knees, wiping a refrigerator shelf.

She glanced at Casey. “How was your night at Lou’s?”

“Fine.” Judging from the cool tone, Rhonda was still ticked with her for accusing Darcy of any wrongdoing.

“Where’s Darcy?”

“Lalonde took him in for a chat. I suppose you’re hoping he’s gone for good.”

Casey didn’t want to discuss Darcy. “I just saw Mother,” she said, and saw Rhonda stop wiping. “She claimed you knew about the house before the murder. She also said you knew the house was occupied and that you have a two-month-old photograph proving it.”

Rhonda stood and closed the fridge door. “I didn’t want you to know about Lillian’s twisted head games, but since she’s forced the issue . . .”

Casey followed her to the living room. Rhonda knelt in front of a secretary desk in the corner. She removed a key taped under the bottom, unlocked the desk, and lifted out a stack of postcards and letters.

She handed the stack to Casey. “Not only was I treated to phone calls, but Lillian started sending letters shortly after Marcus threw her out.”

In a thicker envelope, Casey removed a news clipping about “L.H. Personnel” and a half-dozen photographs dated eleven months ago. Theo was in three shots, Mother sprawled across his lap in one of them. In another, they stood with their arms around each other at the Eiffel Tower. The accompanying note said, “Many thanks for the lovely snapshots of Summer and Cassandra.”

Casey looked at Rhonda. “You sent pictures of us?”

“She asked for them, so I thought why not? I’m proud of you two. Lovers and careers mean nothing compared to raising happy children.”

But Rhonda hadn’t raised her; she’d just been around a lot. A cream-colored card stood out from the pile. Casey picked it up and saw Dad and Gislinde’s wedding invitation—real classy of Mother. The last envelope contained a snapshot of the house on Marine Drive. In the photo, Dad, or possibly Gustaf Osterman, was washing the Jaguar. Mother had written the address on the back.

Casey held the snapshot in front of Rhonda. “Did you go to the house?”

She began to shake her head, then stopped and nodded. “I started to drive out there once. Got as far as West Van before I decided the picture was one of Lillian’s nastier jokes. She knew I’d try to see him. I figured she’d doctored the photo, hoping I’d freak out.”

“So you didn’t actually see the property?”

Rhonda’s eyes glistened as she took the letters from her, “Seven weeks ago I went back again. That time, I talked to Marcus.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Totally, it was his voice, everything, though he pretended not to know me.” The letters slipped from Rhonda’s hand. “Then I realized he really didn’t know me. Something had happened to his mind.”

“Oh, Rhonda.” If the man was Osterman, he wouldn’t have known her.

“At first, I thought Lillian had put Marcus up to this, but he didn’t even mention you. If he’d been in his right mind, he would have.” She picked up the envelopes. “I should have told you about the letters and seeing Marcus, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

Too late, though she blamed Mother more than Rhonda. Casey put her arms around her.

“I didn’t kill him,” Rhonda mumbled. “If that’s what you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t, but why keep this stuff?”

“To have proof of how it was between Lillian and me, so no one could accuse me of making it up. I mean, my relationship with her is weird.”

Yeah, estranged codependency was definitely weird.

Rhonda wiped her eyes and tried to smile. “You had a right to know about Marcus, but seeing him the way he was wouldn’t have brought you much comfort. Let’s face it, Marcus was a negligent parent long before he died.”

“Good thing he didn’t have more kids.” She thought of Gislinde Van Akker.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think Marcus wanted more, which was why he had a vasectomy.”

“Really? I didn’t know.” Was Gustaf Osterman the father of Gislinde’s child? Had Mother told the truth about him posing as Dad? But vasectomies could be reversed. On the other hand, Simone Archambault had been adamant about Dad dying three years ago, so maybe Mother had told the truth. It would also explain why Gustaf’s ex-wife hadn’t been able to locate him.

“You were right about my parents keeping in touch over the years.” Casey told her about Theo Ziegler and her parents’ role in his import business.

“That explains all his trips to Europe.” Rhonda let out a long sigh. “You’d think Lillian would have thrown the news in my face.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted you asking too many questions,” Casey replied. “Mother also said that Darcy works for Ziegler too, and I believe her. Darcy wants the missing three million bucks that he thinks I have. It’s what the attacks were about, why my apartment’s been trashed, and why he’s spent time getting to know us.”

Rhonda pulled at her disheveled hair. “Un-friggin’-believable.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t like you and that your relationship isn’t real,” Casey added, “but the money’s Darcy’s main mission.”

“I might believe you if the source wasn’t Lillian.”

“Rhonda, listen to—”

“No! Don’t you get it? This is another way for her to hurt me. Lillian’s found out that I have a man and she wants to destroy this relationship too!”

Casey didn’t know what to say. Until Theo returned from Europe, she couldn’t prove Mother’s allegation about Darcy.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’d keep Darcy at arm’s length until we know the facts.” She watched Rhonda lock the secretary desk. “Isn’t it better to play this cautiously, for Summer’s sake?”

“I guess so. Thank god she’s gone to Whistler.” Rhonda started out of the room, then stopped. “You might as well have supper with me. The spaghetti will be ready in a half hour, and I’ll open some wine. We could both use a drink.”

“Good idea.” She would have preferred to eat alone, yet she didn’t want to leave Rhonda by herself.

Inside her apartment, Casey surveyed the mess. She was placing a teddy bear on the shelf when the phone rang.

“Miss Holland? This is Simone Archambault. I need to see you.”

“I’m glad you called. I’ve been trying to reach you but your number’s not in service. Are you all right?” The line was silent. “Simone?”

“You must hear the truth about Marcus’s death. I should have told you before but I was afraid.”

“What truth?”

“Meet me at the Queen Elizabeth Theater at ten tonight.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to tell me now?”

“No. I have things to give you, important things. I wrote down the truth in case we couldn’t meet and mailed a copy to your office.”

“Simone, where are you staying? Maybe I could come there.”