she too craved a loving relationship.”
“Most people do.”
“Indeed. Gabrielle’s craving for love is just as strong and her choices have been no better than Jasmine’s. She doesn’t even bother introducing boyfriends anymore because she knows I’ll probably disapprove.”
The strength and bitterness in her voice again struck Casey. So little about Hannah seemed vulnerable. Had the fearful tone in her phone calls been a ploy to bring her here?
“I’ll have to kick her out of my house when I go home in a few days,” Hannah added, dabbing a spot of drool from the corner of her mouth. “After my stroke, she moved out of her apartment to save money. I doubt she wants to resume paying rent, but God knows neither of us wants to live under the same roof again.”
Casey looked away. This was more than she wanted to hear about Hannah’s family problems.
“I’m sorry for being so personal, Casey, but I believe in frank, honest discussion, and the truth is that my daughter’s one of the greediest people I know.”
“It’s okay.” Casey smiled. “Does Gabrielle have a job?”
“She’s a secretary at a management consulting firm here in Parksville.”
The firm wouldn’t be hard to track down. Once the summer tourists and residents left, Parksville’s population was about twelve thousand. How many consulting firms could there be?
“Hannah, did you know that Gabrielle visited Jasmine two days before the murder? It was Sunday afternoon.”
Hannah dropped the tissue she’d been holding. “No, I did not. What happened?”
“I wasn’t there, so I’m getting this secondhand, but Gabrielle essentially told Jasmine to stay out of your life.”
Her sapphire eyes developed an icy glow. “She did, did she?”
“Do you remember what state of mind your daughters were in between Sunday, the twenty-sixth, and the morning Jasmine died? Did Jasmine seem troubled by anything?”
“I spoke with her that Sunday morning and she didn’t sound bothered by anything, and I didn’t see Gabrielle at all that week; just spoke on the phone with her after the murder.”
Had Gabrielle been on the mainland when Jasmine died? The implication was too awful to raise. “I understand that Jasmine was thinking about moving to Parksville.”
“Yes, during that last phone call on Sunday, she asked me what I thought of the idea. I told her I loved it and invited her and Jeremy to live with me. She certainly sounded appreciative, but there was Noel, and she’d been building friendships with a couple of coworkers she was very fond of.”
“Do you know their names?”
“One is foreign . . . Roberto, I think. Anyhow, I intend to be Jeremy’s caregiver now. The sooner I get him away from that violent drunk and the tart he’s with, the better for my grandson. My lawyers will find out who she is.” Hannah stood awkwardly and opened the French doors. The scent of gardenias wafted into the room. “Gabrielle won’t know any of this until Jeremy’s in my house and the locks are changed.”
“She’s that difficult?”
Hannah studied a palm tree near her door before turning back to Casey. “Please understand, I do love my daughter, and she was helpful after my stroke, but I’m well aware of her dark side. I’ve rescued Gabrielle from destructive relationships, supported her after she was fired once, even bailed her out of jail for marijuana possession, but she’ll soon learn that the free ride’s over. Jeremy needs me now.”
Casey couldn’t tell who was more manipulative, Gabrielle or her mother.
“You look disconcerted, my dear,” Hannah remarked. “I’ve learned the hard way that it’s crucial to learn to protect what’s yours before others take it away.” Her expression became solemn. “Jasmine had a dark side, and I’m afraid she wrote unflattering things about you.”
Casey nodded. “We started off okay, but she became distant. I never knew why.”
“Judging from her letters, she was influenced by Marie.”
Hardly a surprise. Hannah rose, walked to the night table by her bed, and lifted out a bundle of pale yellow envelopes. She gave them to Casey.
“The letters are sorted from her earliest memories to the present. I’d like you to read them all, to understand who my daughter was.”
Double crap. “On the phone, we talked about photocopying them. Would you like me to do that now and return the originals today?”
“Why don’t you deliver everything first thing tomorrow in case Gabrielle shows up, which is always in the afternoon.”
Casey placed the bundle in her bag. Man, this was going to be one long night of reading.
“If you find a clue to the killer, please let me know straight away, dear.”
There was a quick rap on the door and a young woman barged in. Casey inhaled sharply as she recognized the same face, dark braided hair, and double-D chest she’d seen in Elliott Birch’s trailer eight days ago. This time, the woman was wearing glasses and a blue silk blouse instead of a white T-shirt.
The woman glared at her. “Who the hell are you?”
“Casey Holland, and you?”
“Gabrielle!” Hannah hobbled toward her, suddenly looking like a frail old lady. “How lovely to see you again.”
Casey’s stomach lurched.
TWENTY-FOUR
“MOTHER, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Gabrielle grasped Hannah’s outstretched hands. “What are you doing out of your chair?”
Casey pressed her lips together to keep from blurting something stupid, like how Birch’s lover was Gabrielle and that she’d just earned number one spot on the suspect list.
“I was feeling a bit stronger today,” Hannah answered, “and wanted to show Casey what I could do. See?”
Casey’s heart pounded, but she kept her expression impassive as Hannah hobbled toward her wheelchair. In seconds, the woman had gone from able-bodied woman to feeble stroke patient. Her shoulders had become rounded, her right hand curled and claw-like, and she leaned slightly to one side. Even her voice had reverted to the weak tone Casey had first heard on the phone.
“Is Casey a therapist?” Gabrielle asked.
“Oh dear, I’m so forgetful.” Hannah turned to Casey. “This is my daughter, Gabrielle.”
“Hi.” It was the only word she could speak under Gabrielle’s intense scrutiny.
“I thought you were too busy to come by today,” Hannah said to Gabrielle.
“I finished my work early, so they let me leave.” She helped her mother into the chair.
“Thank you. Would you get me a blanket, dear?”
Gabrielle reached for the mauve blanket at the end of her mother’s bed. After she’d fussed over Hannah, she turned to Casey. “If you’re not a therapist, then why are you here?”
Casey smiled at cold, cobra eyes. “I’m here because of Jasmine and her son.” She loved the way Gabrielle’s belligerent face became apprehensive.
“How did you know Jasmine?” Gabrielle asked.
“We worked at the same place.”
Those cobra eyes didn’t blink. “So, you just popped over to Parksville to chat with my mother?”
“I invited her here,” Hannah said.
Gabrielle gaped at her mother. “You don’t know this person.”
“I knew they’d worked together, and I wanted to know more about Jasmine’s life.” Hannah adjusted her blanket. “Casey’s been terribly helpful. I can put this whole ordeal behind me now.”
Man, this woman deserved an Oscar. “I should get going.” Casey headed for the door. “Nice to meet you, Hannah.”
“Thanks so much for coming by,” Hannah said.
