Don't Believe a Word (22 page)

In the dream, Eden was imploring her mother to listen to her, that she knew how to fix it, if only Tara would listen. Finally, Tara turned away from Jeremy and looked directly at Eden. ‘I am his mother,’ she said, a look of warning in her eyes. ‘I will decide what happens to him.’

Eden awoke, her heart hammering, her fingers clenching the covers. She lay in the bed, trying to breathe deeply, to calm her thudding heart. She did not understand why the dream had the feeling of a nightmare, but it had. So much so, that it had awakened her from a sound sleep. And as she breathed deeply, trying to calm her heart, her nerves, she inhaled something strange and out of place. Something that made her heart race again. She smelled the odor of gasoline. It was strong, and it was in the house.

I
mmediately, Eden thought of her mother. Was this what
Tara, incapacitated by barbiturates, had inhaled with her last breath? Tara and Jeremy had died from carbon monoxide poisoning, which is said to have no scent, but the carbon monoxide was created by the running car. Perhaps the house did smell of gasoline fumes on the night that they died.

It’s not real, she told herself. You’re imagining it. You are just anxious because of this business with Flynn, and because you are sleeping in this house where your mother died. Besides, she remembered closing the door between the garage and the kitchen. And she certainly would have noticed if she had left the car running. The car was turned off. She knew it. She had just been dreaming of her mother. She wondered if perhaps she was having some empathic experience, some bizarre reliving of the event, because of her vivid dream about Tara.

Or maybe it was nothing quite that psychological. Maybe it’s coming from the neighbor’s driveway, she told herself. She forced herself to get out from under the warmth of the covers. She padded in her stocking feet over to the window and looked out. All the lights were out next door, but there was no sign of a visitor, or of anyone coming or going. No car running in the driveway. Okay, she thought. Not that. She felt a little shudder of apprehension. She did her best to convince herself that she was having some sort of olfactory hallucination.

But it was no use. She was wide awake now. Go out and check in the kitchen, she thought. Go and look. You’re never going to get back to sleep unless you go out there and check.

With a sigh of exasperation meant to conceal her anxiety, she pulled on her bathrobe. Luckily, she was still wearing socks. She had no slippers to put on, and the floors were cold. She opened the door of her room and stepped out into the hallway, silently heading down the hall toward the living room and the kitchen.

Moonlight filtered in through the windows, bathing the rooms in a grayish light. She could still smell the gas. If anything, it was more pronounced, the closer she got to the front of the house. She walked into the living room. As she entered the room, stacked with cardboard boxes, she was not only assaulted by the smell of the gas, she thought she heard a sloshing noise. She picked her way past the boxes toward the dining area, half expecting to find the garage door open. Instead, she gasped at what she saw.

There was someone at work in the kitchen. A slight figure, dressed in a parka and hood, was wielding a large plastic gas can, splashing the gas in an arc around the room.

‘Hey! Stop!’ Eden exclaimed.

The figure whirled around to face her, and the hood slipped back from her face. Eden saw the shock of gray hair, the steel-rimmed glasses, and the woman’s face, but she felt as if she was looking at it through a prism. It was the woman on Flynn’s computer. Flynn’s grandmother. And then, as she looked closer she realized her mistake. She recognized this woman. They had met.

The woman stared back at her, stunned.

Eden stared back at Lizzy’s mother, Phyllis Cooper. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ she cried. ‘Is that gasoline?’

Phyllis Cooper was nonplussed. She gazed at the gas can in her hand. ‘I thought the house was empty.’

‘Jesus,’ Eden cried. ‘One spark and this whole place will be an inferno.’

Phyllis looked around the room as if she were confused. ‘Oh no. I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry? What are you thinking?’

‘I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes,’ Phyllis apologized.

‘Why would you want to burn this house down?’

‘I didn’t know anyone was here,’ she insisted again.

‘I get that,’ said Eden. ‘But that’s not a reason.’

Phyllis grimaced, as if the question was painful to consider. ‘I was worried,’ she whispered at last.

‘Worried about what?’ Eden demanded.

Phyllis looked around at the deserted house. ‘They would find something here. Something damning.’

Immediately, Eden thought of the photos of Lizzy. ‘Is this about Lizzy?’ she asked. ‘’Cause I can put those computer pictures in the trash, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘What pictures?’ Phyllis asked.

She doesn’t know, Eden thought, somewhat surprised. ‘All the pictures. Any pictures …’ she said vaguely.

Phyllis sighed and looked around at the piles of boxes. ‘He’s all packed up. Ready to go.’

‘Who?’ Eden asked. ‘Flynn?’

Phyllis sighed, and nodded. ‘Such awful things happened here.’

Eden wasn’t sure if Lizzy’s mother was in command of her faculties. She didn’t want to say anything to alarm her, or cause her to become agitated. She felt as if she needed to summon some help from the police, or a psych hospital, or both.

‘What things?’ she asked carefully.

‘You don’t remember? It was your mother. Your brother. They died here.’ Phyllis looked almost wounded, at Eden’s apparent forgetfulness.

‘Yes, of course, I remember,’ said Eden, as gently as possible. ‘Look, we don’t want to join them. Why don’t we go outside now, Phyllis? It smells awful in here.’

Phyllis frowned and looked helplessly at Eden. ‘I’m not done,’ she said.

Eden thought about Lizzy, telling her that her mother had had a breakdown when her brother was so ill with Katz-Ellison. Maybe she was having another breakdown now. ‘That’s probably enough for right now,’ she said. ‘Why don’t we just step out into the yard?’

She reached out and offered Phyllis her hand. She wished she had slipped her phone into her pocket when she left the bedroom. She didn’t want to handle this situation alone. But, for the moment, she had to do the best she could.

Phyllis shook her head, still holding the gas can defensively, like a weapon, in her hand. ‘NO. It’s too cold out. I need to sit down,’ she said.

‘Okay. Let’s put that gas can down now,’ said Eden. ‘We don’t need it.’

Phyllis looked at the gas can as if she had no idea what it was, and set it down on the table. Eden reached out her hand and Phyllis took it. Then she clung to Eden’s hand as Eden picked her way through the boxes to the living room sofa.

She gestured for Phyllis to sit down, and Phyllis sat. The overflowing ashtray was on the table in front of her. Phyllis picked up the pack of cigarettes and screwed her face up in dismay. ‘Such a foul habit. Your mother hated that. When he would smoke.’

Eden sat down carefully beside her. ‘He told me he never smoked in front of her and Jeremy.’

Phyllis set the packet down on the table and shrugged. ‘She knew about it, though.’

‘I’m sure she did,’ said Eden. ‘Listen, Phyllis, why don’t I call Lizzy for you? Maybe she can come and get you.’

‘Oh no,’ said Phyllis, shaking her head. ‘She’d be upset. She doesn’t have any idea.’

Eden peered at the woman narrowly. ‘Any idea about what?’

Phyllis sighed. ‘About anything. About your mother and Jeremy.’ She shook her head. ‘When I think about that it just makes me sick.’

‘What makes you sick?’

‘What I did for him!’ she exclaimed.

Eden stared at her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. Phyllis reached out and tried to touch her face. Eden recoiled from her touch. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You probably don’t know,’ said Phyllis. ‘I guess it’s all right to tell you now. Your mother was very ill. She had a terrible disease. She was going to lose her memory altogether.’

So Phyllis knew about Tara’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis. She knew, when no one else did. ‘How did you know about that?’

‘Oh, Flynn told me. I was the only one he could tell.’

‘Really,’ said Eden flatly.

‘And of course, Jeremy … All that lay ahead for him was an agonizing death. Just like my Anthony.’

‘What did you do for Flynn?’ Eden whispered.

‘When he went to Toledo that night, I came over to help your mother. I often did that. She needed help by then. She was already beginning to fail. I came over, and I gave her a warm drink with her pills. I told her to sleep and not to worry. I told her I would stay the night.’

Eden stared at the other woman. She suddenly understood that she was hearing a confession. It was coming at her like a runaway train. She couldn’t derail it if she wanted to.

Phyllis had taken Eden’s hand and was gripping it tightly. Her grip was warm and strong. Eden felt repulsed by Phyllis’s grasp, but she did not dare to pull her hand away. Phyllis looked at her earnestly. ‘I wanted the end to be as peaceful as could be. And it was. After she was asleep, I injected Jeremy’s feeding tube with some of the same drug, crushed up in his liquid protein. I had the note with me. Once they were both asleep, I turned on the car and opened the door between the house and the garage. I stuffed the windows, and left. I locked the door behind me. It was as if they just floated up to heaven.’

Eden snatched her hand away from Phyllis’s grasp. ‘Oh God,’ she cried, shaking her head as her eyes welled with tears. ‘You killed them.’

Phyllis looked somewhat affronted, as if she felt unappreciated. ‘I released them. I set them free. I know what it’s like. I didn’t want Flynn to have to suffer like that. Flynn had no one else to help him. Your mother couldn’t help him. She was already starting to disappear. The illness, you know.’

‘Flynn asked you to do that?’ Eden said, her voice shaking.

‘Oh no,’ said Phyllis. ‘No, he never knew. That’s why I left the note. So he would think that Tara had done it. She had reason enough, poor thing. He never suspected.’

Eden’s heart was hammering as she listened to this confession. So Flynn was not to blame. And she had been right in her surmise about Tara. She would never have left Jeremy to die alone. Tara had never realized what was happening to her. It took every ounce of self-control Eden had not to slap Phyllis Cooper across the face.

‘I did it out of kindness,’ said Phyllis.

Eden was trying to think. She needed the phone. She needed to get away from this … angel of death. She needed to get out of this house.

‘And for Flynn, of course,’ said Phyllis.

Eden shook her head, as if she had not understood.

‘For my son,’ Phyllis said.

E
den stared at her, trying to absorb what she had just
heard. ‘Your son? Are you saying that you are Flynn’s mother?’

Phyllis nodded. ‘I am.’

Eden shook her head in disbelief. ‘But … no. Flynn’s mother is dead.’

‘My parents told everyone I was dead. They wished I was dead.’

Eden shook her head, rocked by this revelation. And then, suddenly, her own confusion cleared. She understood why those photos on Flynn’s computer had seemed so unsettling. It was not Flynn’s grandmother in those photos with Tara and Jeremy. Of course it wasn’t. How could it be? Those photos had been taken in the last year. Flynn’s grandmother had never been able to travel to Ohio. It was Phyllis Cooper in the photograph with Jeremy and Tara. It was Flynn’s grandmother she had seen in older, earlier Polaroid pictures, when Flynn was a boy and was pictured with his grandparents. The photo images of Phyllis and Flynn’s grandmother suddenly superimposed themselves on one another in her brain. Phyllis and Flynn’s grandmother looked just alike as they aged. They looked just alike because they were. They were mother and daughter.

‘Your parents knew you were alive?’

Phyllis looked down sheepishly. ‘Yes. They knew. But they washed their hands of me.’

Eden was dumbfounded by this admission. ‘Why?’

Phyllis’s cheeks reddened. ‘I had a very bad drug problem. I lived in Miami and I sold myself to any man who would pay. I got pregnant and had a baby, whom I neglected. Terribly …’

Eden remembered the story of the toddler, left on his own in an apartment by his addict mother. Eating cat food from the bowl on the floor. Filthy and frightened and alone. It was hard to picture this gray-haired, middle-aged woman as that low-life girl who abandoned her child for drugs. Of course, Eden reminded herself, this same neatly dressed lady had just confessed to murdering Tara and Jeremy. And now she was spreading accelerant all over Flynn’s house so she could burn it down. ‘I heard about that,’ Eden said, and couldn’t keep the chill out of her voice. ‘Poor Flynn.’

Phyllis nodded. ‘The couple who lived next door to me found him there. They were my friends, so they didn’t call the cops. They called my parents.’ She shook her head. ‘That was worse.’

‘Why?’

Phyllis looked at Eden with a pained expression on her face. ‘No one knows about this,’ she said. ‘Not Lizzy. Not even Charlie. Just Flynn. I had to explain it to him. I owed that to him.’

‘What happened?’ Eden asked.

Phyllis sighed. ‘My father came to Miami and took Flynn home with him. He didn’t want a child to raise, but he was so disgusted with me that he took him. He told me that I was dead to Flynn and dead to them. And then he left.

‘I’m ashamed to admit that for a while, that was all right with me. I needed my fix and that was all I could think about. I lived that way for several years. Then, somewhere along the way, I decided to kick it. That’s a long story …’

‘I’m sure it is,’ said Eden, urging her to skip the details. The smell of gasoline was giving her a headache and her stomach was churning. She knew she needed to get them out of the house, but there was a part of her that felt paralyzed, unable to move until she knew the rest. ‘What happened with Flynn?’

‘They raised him. They told everyone that I was dead of an overdose. No one was surprised. My drug history was well known. To my father’s everlasting shame. He was a cop, after all. When I finally got my life together, I went to see them. Flynn was about … nine by then. I wanted to get him back. I had met Charlie, and my life was decent. I was sure that Charlie would welcome Flynn once I explained about him. So I went to my parents. But my father said that I was dead to Flynn, and I was going to stay dead. He kicked me out.’

‘And your mother agreed to that?’

Phyllis shrugged. ‘My mother never stood up to him. Maybe she didn’t want to. I don’t know. I’ll never know.’

‘But you had legal rights,’ said Eden.

Phyllis laughed, but the laugh was half a sob. ‘There is no fighting my father,’ she said. ‘You can’t win with him.’

Eden had grown up with a father who was kind and loving. All Phyllis knew was a father who was a tyrant. It made Eden feel a little bit of pity for the older woman. But more for Flynn.

‘But you both ended up here …’ Eden said.

‘Lizzy was talking about a new family that had entered Dr Tanaka’s program. The Darbys. Flynn Darby. Of course the minute I heard the name, I understood. Katz-Ellison is a genetic disease. We moved to be near the clinic because of Anthony. My son and his wife moved here because of Jeremy. Flynn and I were both carriers, you see.’

Eden winced. ‘Of course.’

Phyllis nodded. ‘I began to go around there, offering to babysit. Your mother was a lovely woman. She was glad for the help. I was just like a mother to her.’

You killed her, Eden thought. She forced herself not to say it.

‘After a while, I decided that I had to tell Flynn. I couldn’t keep it a secret from him. But when he found out, he didn’t want anyone to know.’

What a pitiful story, Eden thought. She shook herself, as if trying to awaken from a trance. She had to think. Pitiful or not, this woman had killed two people. And if Eden didn’t move quickly, Phyllis might end up killing her as well. There was no time for pity. No time for anything. Eden was going to need every ounce of sympathy she could feign in order to get Phyllis to cooperate. To get them out of this house. ‘Look, your parents were very cruel to you. Your father did something terrible to you. But now, you have a lot to live for. Your family loves you. They want you home. Why don’t we get out of here before something sets off an explosion in this house? Let me go get my phone, and we’ll get out of here and call for help, okay?’

Phyllis looked torn, but then she nodded docilely.

Eden stood up and reached out her hand. ‘Okay?’

Phyllis hesitated, and then nodded. She took Eden’s hand.

‘Let’s go this way,’ said Eden, indicating the hallway which led to the bedroom. She wanted to call for help and then escape from this potential inferno. Once they were safely out of here, Phyllis would have to face the consequences of her actions, Eden thought grimly. Eden had every intention of telling the police what Phyllis did to Tara and Jeremy. But she doesn’t have to know that now, Eden thought. The important thing was to get help and get out of there. Before some errant spark started a fatal blaze. The two began to shuffle down the hallway toward the bedroom.

When they reached the door to the bedroom, Eden saw her phone sitting on the nightstand. I should have carried it with me, she thought.

‘You know, when I left my parents’ house, without Flynn,’ Phyllis murmured, her hand still gripping Eden’s, ‘I was so angry. I wanted to make my father suffer. So I took the only thing he really cared about. Just to pay him back.’

‘What was that?’ Eden murmured absently, thinking she would grab her phone, take it outside and call from there.

Phyllis smiled with satisfaction at the memory. ‘I took his service revolver. His gun.’

The hair stood up on the back of Eden’s neck. She froze in the spot where she stood. ‘You took it?’ she whispered.

Phyllis nodded. ‘I knew he would never report that I had taken it. How could he? After all, he had convinced everyone that I was dead.’

Eden’s heart was hammering. She licked her lips. ‘That was clever of you,’ she said.

‘Well, it wasn’t enough, but it was something,’ said Phyllis.

‘Let me just get that phone now,’ said Eden. She tried to extricate her fingers from Phyllis’s grip, but the older woman tightened her hold.

‘Who are you going to call?’

Eden tried to edge into the bedroom, pulling Phyllis along with her. ‘Um. Probably the fire department. That makes the most sense. I mean, we’ve got a dangerous situation here. With the gas everywhere …’

‘I guess you’re right.’ Phyllis frowned at her. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘What?’ Eden asked, trying to appear impassive.

‘You became awfully nervous all of a sudden.’

‘No, I’m fine,’ said Eden, though her head was spinning.

‘You don’t seem fine,’ said Phyllis.

‘Phyllis, I’m just anxious to get out of here. And that smell of the gas. It’s making me nauseous.’

Phyllis peered at Eden’s face suspiciously.

‘I really don’t feel well,’ said Eden. ‘I feel like I’m going to be sick.’

‘I can see that,’ said Phyllis, suddenly turning solicitous. ‘I’ve nursed a lot of sick people in my time. Come in here. Come on.’

She began to tug Eden in the direction of the bathroom. Eden marveled at the older woman’s strength. ‘I think I just need fresh air,’ she insisted.

‘The way you look? You’re ready to throw up all over the carpet.’

At that moment, Eden realized that this was exactly what she was going to do. She bolted past Phyllis into the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet, where she gagged up the contents of her stomach.

Phyllis stood in the bathroom doorway, effectively blocking the exit. Eden scuttled away from the toilet and leaned her head back against the cool tile wall. Phyllis walked in and took a washrag from a holder on the door. She flushed the toilet, then went to the sink and ran cool water on the washrag and bent down, pressing it to Eden’s sweaty forehead. ‘There now,’ she said, as if Eden were her own little girl.

‘I feel better now,’ said Eden. ‘Let’s just get outside.’

‘I’ll open a window,’ said Phyllis. She stepped over Eden and reached for the crank on the casement window, turning it till the window opened. ‘There,’ she said. ‘That’s better. I’ll go get you a can of soda. You need something to settle your stomach. I’ll be back in a jiff …’

‘Phyllis, I don’t want …’

But Phyllis had rushed off on her mission.

Eden rested her forehead against her knees. She thought about Phyllis, taking it upon herself to end Tara and Jeremy’s lives. All for Flynn’s sake. And then, today, for some reason, she had used that gun that she had kept for years to shoot Flynn. Her own son.

‘Here, have this,’ said Phyllis, returning to the room.

Eden lifted her head and saw Phyllis holding out a can of ginger ale, beaded with moisture. Eden hesitated, and then reached for it gratefully. She took several swigs, and handed it back to Phyllis, who set it down on the vanity.

‘Why?’ Eden murmured.

‘Why what?’ Phyllis demanded, frowning at her.

‘I thought you loved Flynn. He was your son. You wanted him back. And then, today …’

‘Today what?’ Phyllis demanded.

‘Why did you try to kill him?’ Eden asked.

‘Who says I did?’ Phyllis cried, taken aback.

‘The police found the gun you used, Phyllis,’ Eden said wearily. ‘They know it belonged to your father.’

‘No. I threw it away,’ Phyllis insisted.

‘The police found it. But why did you do it? Why did you … go after Flynn? I thought you were glad to be reunited with him. You went to such great lengths to … help him.’

Phyllis’s eyes flashed. ‘Last night, DeShaun came over and told us what happened. That Lizzy had left him to be with Flynn. That she and Flynn were lovers. She told DeShaun that she could not resist Flynn. It was some kind of compulsion. They had to be together.’

‘But that’s not …’ Eden began to say. And then she stopped, suddenly struck by the devastating reality that Phyllis had been forced to confront. Her son. Her daughter. Flynn and Lizzy were siblings. But now they were also lovers. ‘Oh my God,’ said Eden. ‘I see. So …’

‘So, they’re brother and sister,’ Phyllis cried. ‘Why, of all the people in the world? Lizzy told DeShaun they couldn’t help themselves.’

Eden was tempted to scoff at Lizzy’s melodramatic version of events, but at the same time, it rang a bell. She had read some news story about siblings who met as adults and became madly infatuated with one another. ‘I’ve heard of that,’ she told Phyllis. ‘I think it’s some kind of psychological syndrome. Siblings who did not grow up together, who meet later in life.’

Phyllis turned on her furiously. ‘Are you agreeing that he couldn’t help himself? He knew she was his sister. She didn’t know it, but he did. He knew exactly, and he went ahead and he did it anyway.’ Phyllis wrung her hands, trembling from head to toe. ‘My Lizzy was the most perfect thing that ever happened to me. She did everything the way a mother can only dream. Her whole life was like the positive version of my life. No mistakes. No terrible regrets. Just success and goodness. Love and kindness. She was an angel.’

‘She is a lovely girl,’ Eden said soothingly.

‘And Flynn knew how I loved her. He knew exactly what he was doing. Dragging her down to the gutter. Committing incest. After all I did for him, Flynn went ahead anyway and just took her. Took her, like an animal carrying his prey off to his lair.’ Phyllis covered her face with her hands and moaned.

Eden hesitated, almost commiserating with the woman’s pain. But Phyllis had shot her own son. Eden recalled her earlier conversation with Flynn this evening. And suddenly she realized what he wasn’t saying to her. He knew it. He knew he’d been shot by his own mother. That’s what he wouldn’t say. Eden pushed herself up against the wall and rose unsteadily to her feet.

Phyllis wiped her eyes and looked at Eden accusingly. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Phyllis, I’m going to call for help. And then I’m getting out of this house. If you have any sense, you’ll come with me.’ She edged past the weeping woman and hurried to the bedroom. She picked up her phone, and dialed 911.

‘I need help,’ she cried. ‘I’m in a house that’s been doused with gasoline.’

‘Give me the address,’ said the dispatcher.

Eden reeled off the address.

‘Okay, we’re on our way. Now you need to get out of there. Don’t take anything with you. Just leave.’

‘I will,’ said Eden. She knew the dispatcher was talking about belongings. Not human beings. Still, she hesitated for a moment. And then she went back down the hallway to the bathroom.

Phyllis was seated on the closed toilet seat, her face ravaged by grief.

‘Phyllis,’ said Eden. ‘The fire department is on the way. We have to get out of here. Come on.’