Page 78 of Death on Riddle Road

“He.Came.On.To.Me.”

“A normal person says no — asistersays no.And if she can’t say no, she keeps her mouth shut.Forever.She doesn’t blast it out because she’s so jealous she can’t stand to see her sister with a man from a family that’s going to make life easier for her, knowing her sister has too much pride to just live with it and then that gets herkilled.”

“That’s right, that’s right.I’m the worst scum on the earth.And just who gave birth to me and raised me, huh?ButI — did — not — tell — her.I’ve said it over and over and it’s about time you believed me or at least stopped shooting off your mouth.Inevertold her.”

“Then who did?”

“How the hell should I know?Derrick or Dova or the man in the moon.I have no idea.I didn’t tell anybody.Don’t even know how you found out.”

Olive dabbed her eyes with a napkin from the café, leaving a crumb on her cheek.“You should be more respectful about your sister’s tragic death.”

Payloma rolled her eyes.

“When did it end?”Clara slid in quietly.

“Just after the baby came.When he went right to Dova,” Payloma said.

I hadn’t changed my mind about the family dynamic of the dead daughter being made a saint at the expense of the surviving daughter.On the other hand, I suspected Payloma’s personality provided rich soil for that dynamic to grow in.

****

We escaped rightafter that.

I was unequivocally happy that we hadn’t had more dessert.It would have curdled.

We’d confirmed Donna’s nonverbal information.We sure weren’t going to get Payloma to say she’d told Jaylynn, not without a lot of evidence and a crowbar.

So, unless Derrick dropped that bomb — which made no sense because by the time of the murder he’d been with Dova for a year — Jaylynn hadn’t known.

There wasn’t more to get from them for now.

Besides, we had to get to Kentucky Manor to see Rose Gleiner.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

She met usat the entry and without a word of conversation led us to a room that looked out over the grounds.

Based on the box of tissues within reach of each seat around a table, I suspected it was for meetings between staff and family.

She gestured us to the chairs at the table.

And then we could have sat there in silence for all the effort she made.

I flicked a look at Clara.Usually, she’d take the lead.But if Clara’s usual manner didn’t work with Rose Gleiner, that would leave me trying to get through to her.Better the other way around.

Aiming for tact and connection, I said, “Working in hospice must take a special kind of caregiver.”

“It does not.Some people fear the closeness to death of hospice.Some people imbue it with a near-mystical experience.Both are wrong.”

Why did I have the feeling she didn’t hesitate to say that people — lots of people — were wrong.Frequently.

Hoping to edge closer to the reason we were here, I asked, “With Derrick Dorrio obtaining a compassionate leave from the prison system, were there more issues with him than other patients?Requirements they had or...?”

For several long beats of silence, I thought she wasn’t going to take up the specific question nor the open-ended one.

At last, she said, “No additional issues.He was like every other hospice patient in that he had his CTI.His MAC and BMI qualified him for hospice, though whether an IPU or in-home was not specified.”

So much for me going first.