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“So you just took the check and left.”
A cold glint appears in Berniece’s eyes. “Not quite. I told him to inform Miss Hope that there needed to be a similar check every month or I’d tell the police I saw her with a knife the same night her parents were stabbed to death. Sure enough, one came for the same amount the next month. And the one after that. The money faucet’s been running ever since.”
I stand, feeling dirty in her presence. Yet I’m also reluctant to get back to Hope’s End, because I know at least some of what she’s said is true. About Mrs. Hope’s addiction and Mr. Hope’s sexual proclivities and how the family threw money at whatever problem they encountered. I know because I helped Lenora type it.
Which means everyone in that house other than Carter is corrupt.
Including Lenora.
“It’s about to be turned off,” I say. “Because either you go to the police or I will.”
Berniece glances over my shoulder to the doorway behind me, her features brightening. “Looks like they’re already here.”
A hand clamps down on my shoulder as the familiar voice of Detective Vick says, “Come with me, Kit. You know you shouldn’t be here.”
“We’re just talking,” I protest.
“You’re trespassing.” Detective Vick grips my arm and tugs. “And lying about it in the process.”
I unwillingly turn to the doorway. Behind the detective stands the woman I talked to at the reception desk. She glares at me and says, “Guess who called the insurance company after all? They have no idea who you are.”
“But I do,” Detective Vick says. “I’ll take it from here. Unless you want to press charges.”
The woman considers it, taking an uncomfortably long time to make up her mind. She looks to Berniece and says, “Did she hurt you in any way, Mrs. Mayhew?”
“It’s fine. She just asked me a few questions.”
“And now you need to tell them what you just told me,” I say.
Detective Vick won’t hear of it. “You’ve bothered her enough, Kit. Let’s go.”
He gives me just enough time to grab my medical bag before pulling me out of the room. As we leave, Berniece flashes me a gap-toothed grin.
“Tell Lenora I said hello,” she says. “And that I’ll see her in hell.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Detective Vick keeps a firm grip around my wrist as he walks me to my car. I should be flattered he thinks I’m that much of a threat.
“You can let go now,” I say, twisting my arm. “I’m not going to run back inside and bother Berniece some more. Although I highly recommendyoudo. You’ll want to hear what she has to say.”
“The police talked to Berniece Mayhew fifty-four years ago.”
“So you looked at the case file from back then?”
“I did. Berniece didn’t have anything to say other than that her husband hadn’t come home.”
“She was lying,” I say. “And you’d know that if you went back there and did your goddamn job.”
Detective Vick finally releases my wrist when we reach my car. From the pissed-off look on his face, I expect him to up the stakes and put me in handcuffs. Instead, he says, “Go back and doyourgoddamn job. Leave the investigating to me. Better yet, quit that place and go home. Your dad misses you.”
I blink, surprised. “He said that?”
“No,” Detective Vick says. “But I assume it’s lonely for him now.”
“Trust me,” I say. “It’s not.”
“So you decided to bother an innocent old lady instead?”