Page 18 of One Last Goodbye

“I just find it fascinating that you agreed to a job at a lakeside estate with a quad Olympic swimming pool. Considering your history, it’s very surprising.”

“My history?”

“Yes. During your commitment, you exhibited an extreme aversion to bodies of water to the point that you refused to bathe and had to shower in the hospital’s gymnasium.”

My heartbeat quickens. My vision narrows, and my throat constricts. I recognize the symptoms of a panic attack, but it’s not fear that prompts this response. “You looked at my medical history?”

“Of course. Mrs. Jensen wanted to ensure you were well enough to care for your children. As I am the only one in the family’s circle able to access mental health records, I reviewed your history.”

My breathing starts to quicken, and I force myself to remain as calm as possible. “I wasn’t told this.”

“No doubt Mrs. Jensen didn’t want to offend you.”

“And you simply don’t care if you offend me?”

My voice is brittle with anger now. I won’t be able to remain calm much longer.

“I apologize. We’ll leave your fear of water aside. It seems well-managed, anyway. However, Iamconcerned aboutyour penchant for snooping into the private business of your employers.”

My stomach turns, and I feel the blood drain from my face. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“In three of your four previous postings, you became embroiled in scandals that had nothing to do with you. You investigated the murder of Johnathan Ashford and were nearly killed when you confronted Cecilia Ashford. When you worked with the Carltons, you fixated on the disappearance of a young woman who vanished a year before your arrival on the estate. And when you worked for the Greenwood family in Savannah, you campaigned to have Mrs. Greenwood’s senile mother arrested for an alleged murder that happened over fifty years ago.”

“Perhaps your information was incomplete,” I say frostily. “I solved the murder of Johnathan Ashford and brought his killer to justice. I brought to light the murder of an innocent,pregnantyoung woman by her lover and his jealous paramour, a murder that was covered up by the family’s patriarch. And Mrs. Greenwood’s mother was not only far less senile than she seemed to be but was also a murderer. Shedidmurder Deirdre McCoy. And whatever the official story is, the Greenwoods covered up the murder of Lila Benson. Did you forget about her? Most people did. That happens often, wouldn’t you say? People look the other way when powerful people murder powerless people.”

“Who have the Jensens murdered?”

“No one. And I haven’t accused them of murder. And I haven’t embroiled myself in their scandals.” I can only hope that she doesn’t pick up on the lie in that last sentence.

"It's true that you've solved some cases that would otherwise remain cold. But you've also robbed the Ashford children of theirlast remaining parent, a mother who by all accounts loved them very much."

“So much that she murdered their father,” I snap.

“I’m not saying that what you did was wrong, only that there were more consequences than you considered. In the Carlton case, Sebastian’s incarceration caused his business to collapse. Hundreds of people lost their jobs, and the disruption in communication caused when the company shut down its operations is estimated to have cost twenty million dollars.”

“So Minerva Montclair’s life wasn’t worth twenty million dollars?” I challenge.

Strauss ignores me. “Elizabeth Greenwood suffered a mental break and was committed to a mental institution. Johnathan was arrested for fraud and sentenced to six years in prison. Elizabeth’s mother now resides in a nursing home, and she is very much senile now however she may have appeared months ago. Christopher lost his job and as nearly as I can tell now works as a shift supervisor for a fast-food restaurant.”

“So because others were hurt when I told the truth, I should have kept it to myself? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that in your quest to rid yourself of the guilt you feel over your sister, you’ve taken it upon yourself to expose the secrets of the wealthy, secrets that your own wealthy parents carried to their grave.”

Her words call to mind a memory I’ve suppressed for decades.

“Vera? What are you doing?”

Mother flinches and lifts Annie’s head from the water.

“She’s not moving!” I cry. “Annie’s not moving!”

I leap to my feet. “Fuck you!”

Strauss flinches and stares at me in shock. I’m sure my expression mirrors hers. I take a breath, then say in a far more controlled voice. “I didn’t give you permission to lookinto my medical history, and I didn’t give you permission to psychoanalyze me. I’m not your patient. I’m here to care for those children, and believe me now, if I learn that you’re harming them in any way with your quack science, I’ll make it my mission in life to destroy you. You seem well versed with how capable I am of destroying people, so keep that in mind the next time you want to twist someone’s mind for your own sick amusement!”

I spin on my heel and stalk back into the house. It takes all of my willpower to keep from sprinting to my room, and when I finally reach it and lock the door behind me, I have used all of my reserves. I collapse on the bed and weep bitterly.

Images of my sister’s still body after my mother lifts her from the pool flood my mind. It’s a memory I’ve suppressed for forty years, and I hate Strauss for bringing it back. I hate her for reminding me why I hate swimming. I hate her for laying bare how fragile my own mental state is. I hate…