“Pitied?” Lana asked.
“I guess her husband cheats on her,” Beth said.
“Hm. I’m not surprised. Most men find strong women exhausting—especially when they’re married to them.”
Again Beth wondered who Lana was talking about. She yawned. “Is there a reason this chat couldn’t wait until the morning?”
Lana and Jack looked at each other.
“I think that Verdadera Libertad project is the key to all of this,” Lana said. “When Hal and Ricardo died, that project died too. Which would benefit Martin, if he wants to sell the ranch.”
“But Martin was in San Francisco when Ricardo was killed. And Diana wants the ranch too, right?”
“With a passion. It might’ve been her, Beth. I think she’s hiding something about Ricardo. But Martin could have been involved in some other way. And you were alone with him.”
Beth waved both of them off the couch so she could unlatch the sofa bed. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“The Rubicon family motto,” Lana said. She stepped back and helped pull out the mattress. “We didn’t want to meddle, Beth. We just want you to know . . . we care.”
Jack got her blanket and fell into the pull-out. Once Jack had nestled in, Beth joined Lana at the door to the back bedroom.
“Do you think it’s possible Martin was pretending he hadn’t seen those plans before tonight?” Lana whispered.
“Ma, I’m not a mind reader. And the man’s a mess. He practically drank his weight in whiskey tonight. He’s under pressure at work, and from his sister. Not to mention his grief.” Beth looked at her daughter, already conked out on the sofa bed. “It must be hard, to lose a parent.”
Lana raised an eyebrow. “Even one who takes over your house and drives you crazy?”
“You’re getting stronger every day, Ma. You’ll be back running rings around those Beverly Hills bimbos before you know it.”
“But what if I . . .” Lana shifted her weight, reaching out to steady herself against the doorframe.
“Yeah?”
Lana looked at her daughter. She squeezed her fingers into the doorjamb. She and Beth had never been close enough to read between each other’s lines. The question was pounding inside her head. But she couldn’t ask it out loud. Not yet.
“We’re close to the killer,” Lana said instead. “It has something to do with those plans, that project. I can feel it.”
“Maybe it’s time to talk to the sheriff, then. Keep everyone safe.”
“I will. Once I know what it all means. One way or another, everything will be over soon.” She stepped through the dark doorway. “I love you, Beth.”
“I love you too,” Beth said. But the door to the bedroom was already closed.
Chapter Forty-Two
Lana rolled into a visitor’s spot at Bayshore Oaks the next day at eleven, just as the sun was breaking through the coastal fog. She was finally getting her energy back. Either that, or she’d just hit the time of the month when the chemo took a break from ramming her into a wall on repeat. She’d know more when she got the results from yesterday’s MRI and PET scans.
Before leaving the car, Lana straightened her suit. She touched up her lipstick and the heavy concealer she used to cover the fading bruises from the fire. There was no way she’d let anyone clock her for a potential resident of Bayshore Oaks.
Lana clicked her way down the antiseptic hallway to the nursing station, where Beth was listening to a tiny, animated woman with pink hair and a turquoise strapless evening gown. The older woman appeared to be berating her daughter, and Beth was using the Formica counter as a shield.
“Beth, I swear to you, Dr. Ramcharan says I have the heart of a seventeen-year-old! Not joking!”
“You sure he didn’t say ‘seventy’？” Beth asked.
“No!” Miss Gigi said. “SevenTEEN. It is the candles my Angela lights at Our Lady of Virtues for me every week.”
“I am happy for you. But you still need to take your lunchtime pills.”
“Why do they make the pills so huge? Why can’t they make them easy to swallow, like Tic Tacs?”
“I know it’s a pain, but . . .”
“My back is a pain. Left hip is a pain. Giant pills are just stupid.”
Lana found herself agreeing with the wrinkled mermaid on this one. She’d often wondered if there was some kind of business opportunity in manufacturing miniature, coated cancer pills. Even taking a handful of small ones would be better than some of the whoppers she choked down every day. Lana stepped up to the counter, careful to stay out of range of the sparkly woman’s long press-on nails.