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Britta’s eyes opened, equally angry. “We will not discuss such a thing in front of company.”
Val looked away. “I’m sorry, Mom. I worry that she’s draining your resources.”
“Your sister doesn’t make as much money as you do. She needs help. Which you’d know if you ever gave her the time of day instead of holding on to old hurts.”
It sounded like Val’s issue with her sister was bigger than “old hurts,” but it wasn’t Kaj’s business, so he remained silent.
Val smiled, but it was totally fake. “I’d like to see Cassandra again. When does she usually visit?”
“On Saturday mornings, first of every month.” Britta’s tone was frigid. “Come by for coffee. I’d love to see you, and Cassandra would, too.”
Oh wow. There was no doubt in Kaj’s mind that the woman had meant the exact opposite of that. “I will.” Val stood, bending over to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Mom. Kaj and I need to go.”
Britta made a frustrated sound. “But you just got here.”
“We’ve left Elijah with some friends. Kaj needs to get back to him.”
“Oh. Of course. Please come by and visit again, Kaj. And keep that boy of yours safe.”
“I will,” Kaj said. “It was lovely to meet you, Mrs.Kristiansen.”
“Britta. You must call me Britta.”
Kaj took her hand, his grip light. “Britta. Take care.”
She walked them to the door and stood watching while they got into his car. Kaj started the engine, then gave her a little wave. Britta waved back and Kaj pulled out onto the street.
“I’m sorry,” Val murmured. “That was so rude of me. I shouldn’t have argued with her about Sylvi. It made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” And it was. He’d known that Val was angry with her sister, but he supposed he hadn’t truly understood the depth of it until now. He’d always gotten along incredibly well with his own sister, but if Genie’s behavior had led to the death of someone that he loved? He couldn’t say how he’d react, so he left the issue alone, focusing instead on the reason for their visit. “You were right. Your brother was seeing Sandra Springfield at the time of his death.”
“Yes. I took a photo of the picture with my phone. I had no idea that she visited my mother every month. That scares the hell out of me, knowing that the woman who held Aaron Gates’s coat while he murdered a man has been so close to my mother. For years.” She sighed. “I suppose I panicked. I couldn’t confront her about Sandra, so I punted to what was most familiar.”
Ah. “It was easier to argue about your sister than to deal with the fact that your mother has been unknowingly welcoming a drug dealer’s girlfriend into her home.”
“Pretty much. That it was always on Saturday mornings makes it worse. That’s when I teach music at the community center and my dad has a standing golf game. She visited when Mom was alone.”
Kaj hesitated. “Is it possible that she simply likes your mother?”
She made a sound of disbelief. “You really think that?”
“I don’t know. But maybe we should consider that before we panic.”
“Well, if you’re going to be logical,” she grumbled, and he chuckled. “Yes, it’s possible. My mother is very nice to people. Usually only the people who agree with her about Sylvi, but whatever. I personally don’t accept that Sandra buys flowers from Sylvi’s shop every month out of the goodness of her heart. It’s too coincidental. Probably more like she’s dropping off drugs to Sylvi every month.”
“You don’t believe your sister’s gotten clean?”
Val’s sigh was weary. “I want her to be. But of course she’d tell our mother that she was clean.”
“Have you seen her high recently?”
“No, but we don’t exactly hang out.” She sighed again. “I have seen her popping pills as recently as Mom’s birthday dinner last month. I asked her if I could help her get into rehab, but she told me to fuck off and mind my own business.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. It’s... not simple. I want to let this anger go, but she’s never apologized for getting Van killed. And she keeps asking Mom for money. She and Dad have been trying to save for their retirement. Sylvi asking for their money makes me so mad.” He caught the tremble of her lips from the corner of his eye. “And I do visit my mother. When I’m not on a job, I’m at their house twice a week. I clean and shop for their groceries and fix things that are broken.” She swallowed audibly. “Dad’s your stereotypical absent-minded professor. He forgets to do important things, like paying the electric bill. Mom shuts down when she’s overwhelmed, so...” She shrugged. “I quit my job in New Mexico to take care of them after Van died. He’d been handling things. I don’t expect my parents to make a big deal about it, but...”
“It would be nice if they didn’t put your sister on a pedestal,” he finished, reaching over the console for her hand. She slipped hers into his and held on tight.
