Page 19 of Luck of the Devil
“I can’t do this right now, Harper.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” I said, my bitterness slipping through.
“Harper, I’m sorry,” he said, sounding panicked. “I swear I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just frustrated. But before you go, I do need to share a concern I have.”
I froze. Had he found out about my drinking? Or that I’d spent the afternoon with Malcolm? I steeled my back. “Go on…”
“As we both noticed, your mother was depressed and several of her friends say she wasn’t acting like herself.”
“You mean scared?”
“She wasn’t scared,” he scoffed. “They think her depression had an anxiety component.” He drew an audible breath. “In any case, we have reason to believe that perhaps she did this herself.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You mean she might have driven off that bridge on purpose?”
“We have no proof…” He hesitated. “But that’s our concern.”
“When you say our, who exactly are you talking about?”
“Me and Detective Monahan. He knows the status your mother held in town and given my career and your recent troubles, he agreed to keep things quiet. She didn’t have a life insurance policy, so it’s not like we’re defrauding anyone. This protects us.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked. “Why not tell me when you found out?”
“I was trying to spare you. I didn’t want you to blame yourself.”
I blinked. “Why would I blame myself?”
“Because I was the one who insisted you come home, and we both know she wasn’t happy about the whispers and the gossip about you.”
My chest tightened. “Wait, let me get this straight. You’re saying that my return was so distressing she couldn’t live with it anymore and drove her car off a bridge?”
“That’s not the only reason, Harper,” he said sympathetically. “In her eyes, my leaving was much worse. She said I abandoned her.” He paused. “I considered not telling you, but I also know you’re curious by nature and you might start asking questions. I wanted you to hear it from me instead of someone in the sheriff’s department.”
“I see.”
He hesitated. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No,” I said in a tight voice. “I would rather live with the heartbreaking truth than a cold lie. Especially since I heard several women gossiping about it after the service today.”
“Oh,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”
Where had the rumor come from? Had he spread it? Would he tell me if he had? “Like I said, I’d rather have the truth.”
“I knew you’d see it that way.” He sounded relieved.
He’d be less relieved if he knew what I really meant. I wanted the actual truth, not his bullshit story.
“I just wish she’d tried to get help,” I said, trying to bait him. “If only she’d gotten some medication, maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.”
“She was on Zoloft,” he said. “But obviously it wasn’t enough.”
According to Malcolm, there’d been Zoloft in her bloodstream. Did she have a prescription or had my father known she was drugged?
“So that’s how you knew she was depressed?”
“Yes, she told me she’d started taking it a couple of weeks ago.”
“So, you knew she was depressed because she was taking Zoloft,” I said, trying to make my voice sound neutral. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
