Natasha wouldn’t judge. Natasha had done the same types of things for her career. The press had referred to Natasha as a sociopath, even a psychopath. As if that was the worst thing a person could be. The two women were pragmatic, Celia thought. In life, it paid to be pragmatic. She thought about people like John, Lucille, and even Bart. John was so paranoid and worried about everything. He was constantly on edge. Lucille missed her daughter terribly and felt rejected by her. Celia had heard her cry about it. She pined for a child who didn’t even bother to visit.
And then there was Bart. He had to know there was no long-term potential between them. His emotions had wrecked things, and then his emotions made her life hell. He still visited his dead wife’s family, for God’s sake! And based on what the police had told Celia, his emotions might have gotten the better of him in that situation as well. Pragmatism was absolutely preferable.
Refocusing on the article, Celia wondered what Natasha was feeling. Was she as calm and stoic as she liked to appear? Or was she secretly hoping her attorney could stop things? It was unlikely the governor was going to step in, given the publicity the case had received and the fact that five people were killed in cold blood. Natasha had certainly never expressed any remorse. Maybe Celia could ask Keith to probe a bit. The actress seemed to like and trust him.
After a couple of hours, Celia closed her laptop and joined Keith on the couch. They finished the game. Watched a bit of news, and then watched the late-night host’s monologue before Celia finally stretched and said she was tired. Keith thoughtfully turned off the television and said he’d retire as well. After he grabbed the rest of the dessert. That man could eat!
When Celia checked her phone before turning off the lamp, there were three missed calls and two voicemails. She punched in her password to listen to the first message.
“Ms. Brockwell, this is Amelia Thompson calling from Jefferson General Hospital. Please return my call at this number, extension 4208.”
“Ms. Brockwell, this is Ms. Thompson from Jefferson general Hospital again. It is imperative that you call as soon as possible. Extension 4208.”
Oh no...
Celia dialed the number and waited, holding her breath.
“Jefferson General Hospital, 4th-floor nurse’s station, Candace speaking.”
“Yes, this is Celia Brockwell. I had a message to call Amelia Thompson.”
“Oh yes, Ms. Brockwell. We’ve been trying to reach you. I’m afraid Ms. Thompson is with a patient.”
“I assume the message was regarding my father?”
“Yes, well...I’m sorry to inform you, Ms. Brockwell, but Stewart Marshall passed away earlier this evening. His liver and kidneys failed, and he was unable to rally. I’m so very sorry.”
Celia leaned against her pillow. “Oh, okay. Thank you for letting me know. Do you know...is his family still there?”
“No, I’m afraid they have left. Is there anything I can assist you with?”
“No thank you.”
Celia ended the call and closed her eyes. She had questions, but she knew the nurse would not be able to answer them. What had the doctor’s name been? Could she tell Celia more? Knowing her father had died was unsettling, partly because she couldn’t help but wondering what really happened? Did he truly misuse his insulin pump? Wouldn’t he have realized his sugar was dropping? In the movies and on television, they always got agitated or started sweating or something, didn’t they? Did he pass out and fall, or was he already unconscious when his pump delivered the insulin?
And did Bart have something to do with it?
Chapter 30
William caught Celia as she was coming out of the elevator the next morning. “Have you talked to Natasha by chance?”
“I haven’t. I am not scheduled to see her until the day of her execution. Is something going on?”
“I sent a letter to the governor. Again. I’ve talked to her attorney to see what else I can do. We’re running out of time.”
“I know. I hope your letter does some good. Have you seen her?”
“I’m supposed to see her the day after tomorrow. The stubborn woman hasn’t let me visit in years, and now she wants to see me. I’m just glad she relented. I’m hoping I can talk her into pushing her attorney harder. I can’t believe she is actually resigned to this.”
“She’s been calm about it throughout the interview process. I admit it surprised me too.”
“Well, let’s cross our fingers. Life in prison is a hell of a lot better than death.” He headed down the hallway.
Celia thought about what he said. She wasn’t sure Natasha would agree that spending the rest of her life in a cell was the better of the two options. Of course, almost everyone had a sense of self-preservation when push came to shove.
Gladys already had several messages for Celia when she reached her office. “They’re starting early this morning.”
“Thanks, Gladys,” Celia said as she took them. “I’m going to get these taken care of first thing, and then I’d like to be undisturbed for a couple of hours.”
“Sure thing. Need coffee or anything?”
“No thanks.”
Celia closed her door and looked through the messages while her laptop started up. William wanted her to call, and Celia wondered if they’d already had the conversation in the hallway. She’d put him off a bit. Two of the staff had questions about articles that were due at the end of the day; questions usually meant delays. That would need to be a priority. One of her sources for a story wanted to reschedule their meeting. He was probably getting cold feet. Celia would need to work her charm to keep him on board.
The last message was from Marlene, asking Celia to call her. It was unusual for Marlene to call her work number, so Celia was curious. She decided to call Marlene first.
“Hey, Marlene, what’s up?” Celia asked.
“Pull up the link I sent you. It’s
