understand that my affairs were no reflection on him.”
“Oh, come on.”
Lillian gave an exasperated sigh. “Rhonda’s still fueling your hatred, isn’t she? She’s been at it since you were a little girl. By the time I realized what she’d done, it was too late. I know she told you about my indiscretions before Marcus ended our marriage.”
“I witnessed them, remember? Coming home from school and you were still in bed with some jerk.”
Lillian lowered her head. “I knew you were angry long before Marcus kicked me out.” Her voice wavered. “That’s why you never said goodbye, isn’t it?”
What was the use in discussing this? “If you don’t get Darcy out of Rhonda’s house and her life real fast, I’ll have him charged with assaulting me, the security guard, and my friend, Lou, before this day is over, understand?”
Lillian seemed to be appraising her. “You’ve turned into a tough and resourceful young woman. I’m pleased, but I’m also terribly afraid for you. If you follow through with your threat, Darcy will unleash Armageddon.”
“Don’t you get it? It’s already begun. When I see Theo—”
“Stay away from Theo,” she interrupted. “He’s mine.”
“Excuse me?”
“Theo’s no good for you. He belongs to me.”
What on god’s earth was going on? “I thought you were mad at him.”
“One can be angry and still maintain a relationship, dear.”
“In other words, I’d better not interfere with your conquests, is that it?” Casey waited for an answer but none came. “Theo said it was over between you, that you’d found someone else. Maybe you didn’t get the memo.”
“You haven’t known Theo nearly long enough to understand that he doesn’t mean half of what he says. So, let me tell you this once more, stay away from him.”
Casey marched out of the bedroom.
She was halfway across the courtyard when Mother called out, “We had some good times, didn’t we? When you were little?”
God, the woman was nuts. Casey walked faster while unwanted memories of good times sprinted through her brain. Periods of harmony during vacations and at Christmas: kisses, hugs, bedtime stories. Memories carved so deeply in her mind that she couldn’t pry them free without losing part of herself.
Casey was opening her car door when Mother emerged from the house. She scribbled something on the back of a business card and then handed it to her. “In case you need me.”
What was she supposed to need her for? More in-your-face lessons on Holland dysfunction? Casey read, “Holland Personnel, Specialists in All Clerical Needs: Lillian Holland, President.” On the back was the number and address she’d seen in Dad’s notebook.
“If you’re telling the truth about Osterman, you can have his body,” Casey said.
“Thank you.”
Casey followed Mother’s car out of the driveway and down Marine Drive. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if anything Mother had said was true. She’d seemed bent on discrediting Rhonda. Maybe Rhonda was right: Mother did want to cause trouble, and her possessiveness over Theo and Osterman was definitely bizarre.
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
