Bones of a Feather - Carolyn Haines [59]
“Oscar will help me, but it can’t be done overnight. What if the kidnappers call and I can’t get the ransom?” She sounded scared. No matter what role Eleanor might be playing in this drama, I had no proof of any wrongdoing. Like every other suspect, she had motive, means, and opportunity, but nothing yet proved her guilty.
“I’m sure Oscar will work this out.” I patted her shoulder. “Do you think the abductor will call again this evening?”
She nodded. “I know he will. I feel it. And if I can’t meet his demands, he’ll kill Monica.”
I had to give her credit. She was a damn fine actress—if this was an act. Such talent came with the bloodline. Her distant ancestor, Terrant Cassio, had been the only woman to pull the wool over Barthelme’s eyes. She’d willingly married a murderer with five dead wives. And in a beautiful moment of irony, the minute he’d married her, he’d been done for. The fox had been stalked by a tiger.
That was the DNA the Levert sisters descended from. Monica abandoned her own child—if Barclay was telling the truth. She’d deliberately set out to wreck the homes of her Natchez peers. She’d slept with the significant others of her friends, and maybe even of her own sister. Why was I finding it hard to believe Eleanor would abduct and possible kill her flesh and blood? The whole family was capable of any deviant act.
“Call in the cops, Eleanor. Tell Gunny the truth.”
She shook her head. “I can’t risk it.”
“The risk is open to interpretation. You stand to gain a lot if Monica is dead.” I withdrew the empty prescription bottle from my pocket and held it out. “Care to explain this?”
Eleanor started to reach for the bottle but faltered. “I should be angry you’re snooping around my house, but I’m not. In a strange way, I feel better. You’re really searching for Monica.”
Her reaction wasn’t what I’d expected. “There should be almost thirty pills here. They’re all gone.”
Eleanor brushed her hair back from her forehead. “I flushed them down the toilet. When I found myself holding the prescription bottle, thinking about taking them all, wanting only the release of … death. I put them out of my reach.” She straightened her posture. “You see, I can’t go on without Monica. She is my other half, my twin, the person who completes me. Without her, I don’t want to live.”
“But you didn’t take them.”
“If Monica can be saved, I have to do it. This one time, I must be courageous. I will be the strong sister, the one who doesn’t falter. I’ll figure a way to pay the ransom.”
“Before you risk any money, you need to be certain Monica is still alive.” I deliberately made my voice cold. “We need proof of life.”
My tone shocked her. She stepped back and narrowed her eyes. “She has to be alive. I’ve done everything the kidnapper asked.”
“I don’t think he—or she—or they—have to play by any set of rules. You need to understand this up front. Criminals who abduct people have already broken a whole bunch of laws. Expecting them to play by rules, even ones they impose, is foolish.” My cruelty surprised even me.
Eleanor blanched. “Do you really think she’s dead? She can’t be.”
I couldn’t push it any harder. She was about to faint. “I don’t know,” I said. “Let’s wait for the kidnapper’s call.” Abruptly I walked past her and down the hall to the stairs. “Tinkie, I have Chablis,” I called out.
I needed my partner to occupy Eleanor so I could search Briarcliff again. It would give me something to do to pass the time until the kidnapper called.
If he called.
If he’d ever called in the first place.
* * *
As it turned out, I didn’t need Tinkie to distract Eleanor. My conversation with her sent her straight to her bed with a migraine.
When I reported the encounter—and my suspicions—Tinkie was a tiny bit miffed.
“We have no proof, and you all but said her sister was dead.” Tinkie cuddled Chablis to her face. I’d toweled Sweetie, and she was napping on the floor beside the sofa in the ladies’ parlor where Tinkie and I were having a powwow. “Don’t you remember how you felt when Coleman accused you of murder on circumstantial evidence?