“I think he immediately stepped up and tried to be the father in the family. That didn’t go over well with me, but I know Mum loved it because she didn’t have to figure things out, since Peter was there to do it for her,” she stated bluntly. “In fact, my mum was never somebody who paid the bills or looked after getting that electrician in or anything like that.” Cassandra frowned, as if back in her childhood memories. “She’d vacuum and clean and cook, and that was about it. Honestly, I don’t know what she did, even at the end of her life.” She shook her head. “I never went to Rosemoor to visit with her. I know Peter always did, but, then, you know, Peter was in that Goody Two-Shoes mode.”
“Would your mother have had any money to pass on?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t have thought so, but I guess the house may have fetched something, so that would have gone to Peter.”
“Exactly,” Doreen noted. “I heard from some people that there wasn’t anything to pass on and that Peter had helped her out quite a few years paying some of the bills.”
“I don’t know about that. Peter came to me a couple times, saying that she needed money. And I didn’t believe him. I did go to Rosemoor, and management told me that all her bills were paid and that there wasn’t a problem. So then I didn’t trust Peter anymore—not that I trusted him to begin with.” She shrugged. “Sometimes you just can’t trust anybody.”
At that, the front door opened, and several customers came in and sidled up to the bar.
Cassandra looked over at Doreen. “Honey, you need to leave. This isn’t your kind of a place. But, if you want to come back for a visit, come back in the daytime, and bring those animals of yours.” She smiled and pulled out a card from underneath the bar. “That’s my cell number. You can always give me a shout. I really would like to know if you find out anything. As you know, Mum and I didn’t always have an easy relationship, and I know that I certainly never had her approval,” she muttered. “At the same time though, I would not want to find out that something had happened to her at the end of the road.”
“Good enough,” Doreen noted.
She hopped off the barstool and walked out the door, and a couple whistles came from behind her. She just completely ignored them as she headed to her car. It was just that kind of a place. Outside, she took several deep breaths, trying to empty the second-hand smoke from her lungs and to clear her head a bit. What she really needed to do was talk to Peter and get some idea who and what he was like, as a person.
And, with that thought, she texted Nan. Need a location for Peter. I just finished talking to Cassandra. Her grandmother phoned as soon as Doreen got into the car.
“He lives down on Lambert Street,” she said.
“Okay. And where’s that?”
“Getting an idea. Out in Glenmore.”
“What about a Dr. Weatherby? Do you know him? He was Chrissy’s doctor.”
“Oh my. Yes, we were just talking about him.”
“Who was just talking about him?”
“Why you and me, dear.”
Doreen shook her head. “When was this?”
“Earlier. When I told you about the skinny-dipping at Sarsons?”
“Oh my God, Nan. You went skinny-dipping with Dr. Weatherby?”
“I just told you that, dear.” Nan laughed. “You should mention that when you call him later.”
Doreen groaned. “I will do nothing of the sort.”
Nan laughed heartily before hanging up.
Doreen almost lost her focus, as she headed straight to Peter’s house. Doreen would call the doctor later. As she parked in front of the address, a single man, somewhat around her age, mowed the lawn. She hopped out, wishing she had the animals with her. She walked up the front sidewalk and waited until he saw her.
He shut off the lawn mower and walked over. “Hey, what can I do for you?”
She introduced herself and related how some of the residents at Rosemoor were upset about his aunt’s death and how they’d asked her to look into it.
He asked, “Are you like a private detective or something?”
She burst out laughing, liking the easy personality and the smile on his face. “Or something,” she agreed. “I just play around with it a little bit. But my grandmother and some of her friends are quite worried.”
He nodded. “And that has to do with her constantly telling everybody she was poisoned, I suppose.”
“Yes, exactly,” she agreed.
“And, therefore, I must be the number one suspect,” he stated, with a headshake. “And of course I’m the one who everybody looks to.”
“Maybe,” she noted, “since you did inherit.”
“Right. I inherited what?” he asked, with an eye roll. “Sure there was some money, and it did help, but I’ve been saving forever, ever since I was this poor kid. When you save and finally manage to buy yourself something that you’ve wanted for a long time, it’s a great feeling. Although it makes others jealous and small-minded.”
She looked over at the big gleaming truck in the driveway. “That’s one big shiny truck.”
“Yep, just bought it.” He grinned, rubbing his hands together in glee. “It’s a beauty, isn’t it?”
“It sure is,” she agreed. “I’ve never seen so many big trucks like there are in this town.”
He looked at her and shrugged. “Every boy likes his toys.”
“Apparently.” She nodded. “So can you tell me just what you inherited, and why you inherited and not Cassandra?”
“Well, if you ever saw Cassandra,” he explained, “you’d know why. She and her mother didn’t get along, whereas I was there for her, for Chrissy, the last couple decades.” He shook his head. “It made sense to me that I inherited. But you know how the gossip nags will let their tongues wag.”
“Maybe,” she replied. “But no autopsy was done on Chrissy either, was there?”
“Why would there be?” he asked in astonishment. “She died in her sleep one night. And no matter what Chrissy said, no way anybody would have administered any poison to her.”
“And why is that?”
“Because why would they?” he asked. “I already knew I would get everything. She wouldn’t live too much longer as it was, so no need for me to kill her. I had no reason to kill her.”
“Maybe not,” she murmured, stumped. “Do you know anybody who hated her, anybody who didn’t get along with her?”
“For that, you need to look at the residents in Rosemoor,” he stated. “If ever a Peyton Place existed, that’s it. I wouldn’t be surprised if half a dozen of those people didn’t plot her death.”
“I thought she was harmless?”
“Oh, she was. And, as long as she was only telling stories about herself, it was great, but, when she started telling stories about everybody else, it wasn’t so great.”
“Did she tell stories like that about other people?”
“I don’t know what stories she might have spread at Rosemoor, but I know that she used to tell me a lot of gossip. Stuff like, you know, some woman at that place gambles all the time, sets up all these betting pools.” He shook his head. “Like how is that legal?”