CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Eric and Joseph sat at the conference table speaking to Morgan’s mother. They were frustrated, annoyed, and pissed off.
“Ma’am, we’re trying to find out why your daughter killed herself. I would think you would want to help us with this,” said Joseph.
“She was depressed. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t do anything wrong. She was a happy kid and then suddenly she wasn’t.”
“Can you pinpoint a time when that changed?” asked Eric trying to control his temper.
“I don’t know. Seven, maybe eight years ago or so. She’d moved to New Orleans and then was traveling or something, doing paintings on the road. Strange thing to do. Then she called and said she was back in New Orleans.”
The two men stared at one another and shook their heads. They were not going to get anything worthwhile out of the mother.
“Are we done? I have a Pilates class.”
“Yes. We’re done.” The call ended and Joseph stared at his friend.
“I’m telling you right now that if the father reacts that way, I’m going to kill him.”
“You didn’t want to kill the mother?” smirked Eric.
“Oh, I definitely did but I’m more tolerant with women sometimes.” Eric just chuckled, dialing the father’s number. He picked up on the first ring.
“If you’re selling something, I’m not interested.”
“We’re not selling anything, sir. My name is Eric and my business partner Joseph is with me. We work for a security company called Legacy.”
“Okay.”
“We’re investigating your daughter’s suicide,” said Joseph.
“What’s there to investigate. She swallowed a handful of pills and died in her car in a strange neighborhood.”
“It wasn’t a strange neighborhood, sir. She lived in and around that area,” said Joseph through clenched jaw.
“Look, I hadn’t seen Morgan in probably four or five years. I was in New Orleans on business and called her to have lunch with me. She showed up, ate half of a side salad and said she needed to run. She barely looked me in the eyes.”
“Did she appear scared or nervous?” asked Eric.
“I don’t know. Not scared really but she was different. I would call her once a week just to hear her voice but she never spoke more than ten or fifteen words to me. I can’t figure it out. I thought we were close.”
“If you’ll forgive me, you and your wife seem to be indifferent to your daughter’s suicide. Aren’t you curious as to what pushed her to this point?” asked Joseph.
There was silence on the other end of the line, then a long, drawn-out sigh.
“I’ve asked myself why since the day I found out. According to my therapist, that’s normal but I cannot obsess about it.”
“You’re seeing a therapist,” said Eric plainly.
“Yes. I’m seeing a therapist and if you must know, it’s about my inability to admit that my relationship with my ex-wife is over.”
“I see,” said Eric. “Well, best of luck with that. If you think of anything else, please give us a call.” He didn’t respond, he just ended the call leaving Eric and Joseph to stare at one another.
“Something happened to that poor woman and I am not going to stop until I find out what it is,” said Joseph.
“We could try with Noah and Julia again,” said Eric. Joseph glared at him and Eric held up his hands. “Or not.”
“It’s too much, brother. The pain they both felt is not worth it.”
“Hi guys,” said Lily.
“Hey, Lily. What did you guys find?” asked Eric.
“We’re making calls to her customers now.
They’re devastated by her death. Many had commissioned works from her before and were always thrilled with the outcome.
The photography commissions were thrilled to hear that Ivy would be taking it over.
They said they would donate the commission money to whatever non-profit we designated. ”
“That’s great,” nodded Joseph. “What about the paintings?”
“We’re still working on them. Some are just wildlife and landscapes, so they’ll be a bit easier to take over. The portraits are a bit tougher. You saw them, they’re partially finished. We have to decide if we want to start over or continue with what she started.”
“What do the customers want?” asked Joseph.
“They want us to continue what she started. We just have to be sure we can do that. We have two customers that we can’t reach right now. A housekeeper at one residence said that they were in St. Louis for another week but would let them know we called.”
“Alright, well we can at least start some of these,” said Eric.
“We think the one you found behind the bathroom door is for the couple that are in St. Louis. We didn’t get to ask what or who it was supposed to be but we’ll figure it out. It is strange that she would keep it somewhere close to humidity and dampness.”
“Lily? If this is too hard for all of you, tell us. We’ll find another solution,” said Joseph.
“No. I think we all agree this is what we want to do. Cassidy and Ela will be taking on most of the paintings. I’m just going to help them with any background or research work. We’ll get this girl to where she needs to be,” she smiled.
Lily was the wife of one of the senior retired members, Bull. Kidnapped, beaten nearly to death, she was locked inside a metal shipping container before she was found by Bull. Their life together had been one of nothing but love, art, and song.
“Guys? We will solve this,” said Lily. “All four of our ghosts deserve to go home.” Eric smiled at the woman, nodding at his friend across the table.
“Amen to that, Lily. Amen to that.”