Page 95 of The Night Before (Savannah 1)

Caitlyn couldn’t believe it. Yes, her mother had been frail, but Berneda was in the hospital where she was monitored as she recovered. “This can’t be true.”

“It is, for God’s sake! Someone probably killed her.”

“Whoa. That’s a pretty big leap.” Caitlyn was still trying to sort fact from fiction.

“Is it, Caitlyn? You really think so? Haven’t you been paying attention to what’s been happening?” Hannah was frantic, her voice rising. “Look, I know she was okay, stable, that’s what the doctors and nurses at the hospital said and then . . . and then . . . Troy got a call from Eastside this morning, the doctor in charge, I can’t remember his name, and he claims that Mom died in her sleep. Why? How could that happen?”

Stunned, Caitlyn leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know. You’re sure?”

“Call the damned hospital yourself, if you don’t believe me.” Hannah was crying again, and for the first time Caitlyn started to believe her, to think that her mother had died. The pressure on her chest doubled. Berneda—dead? Was it really possible? “She . . . she was sick. Maybe she just passed away.”

“Oh, yeah, right!” Hannah sniffed loudly. “I think someone helped her along. Why didn’t the fucking nitro pills work at home, huh? And Amanda—someone just happened to run her off the road the week after Josh was killed. No, this is being done on purpose. Someone’s picking all of us off, one by one.”

A chill settled into Caitlyn’s blood. Wasn’t Hannah just verbalizing what she herself hadn’t wanted to face? Hadn’t she, alone at night, suspected that someone was systematically killing off the members of her fa

mily? But who? Who would want to kill them all?

What about you, Caitlyn? You’re the one who has trouble remembering. You’re the one who found blood all over your room the morning after your husband was killed.

“What does the hospital say?” Caitlyn demanded, shutting off the accusations running through her mind.

“I don’t know. Troy’s calling the doctor in charge as well as Doc Fellers, but I think they’re probably scurrying around at Eastside General trying to cover their asses.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah—unless you count Lucille.”

“She counts. How’s she handling this?”

“She’s already packing her things,” Hannah said, her voice shivering with disapproval.

“What?”

“You heard me. The first thing she did was buy herself a one-way ticket to Florida. Said she had no reason to stick around here. No family left. Her daughter never calls or shows up even when she’s supposed to, and now that Mom’s gone, Lucille’s going to move in with her sister.”

“Already?”

“I think she’s been planning for it for a long time. She knows that Mom left her a nice little inheritance, so she’s outta here. Her plane takes off tomorrow. How about that? She didn’t even wait and get a cheaper fare by planning a couple of weeks in advance.”

“But the funeral . . .” Caitlyn murmured, beginning to accept everything Hannah had told her. “I’d think she’d want to attend.”

“Who knows? She’s an odd duck. Weird, always talking about the ghosts hanging out here. I say it’s high time she goes. Good riddance.”

“But that leaves you alone in the house.”

“Just me and the ghosts,” Hannah replied, some of her old sarcasm returning. “Christ, I can’t believe this.” She paused and Caitlyn heard the sound of a lighter clicking.

“I can be at the house in half an hour.”

“No. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Troy’s already on his way, and he said he’d call Amanda. I’ll see you there!”

She hung up before Caitlyn had a chance to say that she’d call Kelly. Not that Hannah would care. None of them did. Ever since their mother had proclaimed Kelly dead to the family, everyone but Caitlyn had quit seeing her or even mentioning her name. It was odd, Caitlyn thought, but then estrangements always were. She dialed Kelly’s cell phone, waited while it rang and left a message.

Not that Kelly would want to know.

She always acted as if she didn’t have any feelings for anyone in the family.

Face it, Caitlyn, they’re all a bunch of goddamned hypocrites. Mom was mad that I blew my trust fund on the boat and hadn’t bothered to insure it. She blamed me for the accident, and all of my wonderful siblings fell into line, taking sides with her, thinking that the fact that Mother acts as if I’m dead will make them richer in the end; that they’ll inherit my share as well as their own. It’s sick. But then, what else is new?

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