Chapter 25
Cressida wasn’t sure what to do. Her instinct was to pat the woman’s back and reassure her.
Evelyn seemed to have been holding so much inside—for years, as she’d mentioned earlier—hoping someone would ask.
Well, Cressida was here to talk and listen.
She wanted all the answers Evelyn was willing to give, and even those she wasn’t.
But that would have to wait.
Evelyn held her chest, not as though she was extremely grieved but as though that grief might have sent her into some kind of cardiac incident.
“Please tell me what I can do to help.”
Before Evelyn could respond, Braden headed for the door, calling over his shoulder, “Stay here. Stay down. Stay away from the window.”
“But I need your help.”
Without looking back, he exited. He hadn’t even heard her. His tone left no doubt something else was up. Male voices echoed in the hallway. She recognized Deputy Riker’s voice along with Braden’s.
The intimidating woman next to her suddenly seemed feeble. Concern for her ratcheted up. Was she sick? Having a heart attack?
Evelyn fumbled for Cressida’s hand, found it, and squeezed.
She spoke so softly Cressida leaned closer so she could hear the words, but she still couldn’t understand. “Excuse me?”
Evelyn closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, then straightened and sat taller. Her eyes brightened, and she released Cressida’s hand. She slowly stood and straightened her cardigan, composing herself, both figuratively and literally.
What had just happened?
Cressida had a few moments alone with Evelyn, without Braden or anyone else listening. Now could be her only chance to learn more if Evelyn was holding back. “Please tell me what I need to know.” While there’s still time.
Pain suddenly carved into Evelyn’s face. “Please, I need to call my doctor.”
She thrust her cell into Cressida’s hands. “His number is in my contacts. The landline is in my room, or there’s one downstairs.”
Hands shaking, Cressida grappled with the phone. She wasn’t familiar with this one and struggled to find the contacts.
Deputy Riker entered. “You’re interfering with a crime scene. I need to—”
Evelyn Monroe collapsed against him. He grabbed her and gently lowered her to the floor next to the bed, then radioed for an ambulance.
“I’m calling her doctor.” Cressida raced from the room. Instead of searching through the many doors to find Evelyn’s room, she bounded down the stairwell, then found the landline phone at the base of the stairs.
Punched in the number and waited. Come on. Pick up, pick up, pick up.
She got the answering service. “I’m calling on behalf of Evelyn Monroe. She’s collapsed and has asked for her doctor. We’ve called for an ambulance. Please let him know. He can call me on my cell.” Cressida gave her number.
Because she wasn’t leaving this woman’s side.
“I’ll give him the message.”
Cressida ended the call. She raced back upstairs where Evelyn still rested on the floor. Deputy Riker had placed a pillow under her head and put blankets on her. Such an awkward place for her to land. Evelyn was awake but struggling to breathe. A panic attack? A heart attack?
Lord, what do I do to help her?
She dropped to her knees and grabbed Evelyn’s hands. “Tell me what I can do.”
“In my medicine cabinet. Glyceryl . . .” The rest of her sentence was garbled.
“Which room?”
Evelyn tried to explain, but her words were incomprehensible.
Cressida bolted up and hurried down the hall and through the ridiculously big house looking for the room that could be Evelyn’s bedroom.
She entered what looked like the room of this grand woman, in terms of size and decor, and then rushed to the private bathroom.
Swung open the medicine cabinet and found too many pill bottles to count.
What had she said?
Glyceryl. Cressida got it. Nitroglycerin was used for angina. She must be having an attack. Finding the glyceryl trinitrate, she raced out of the room, down the hall, and found Evelyn sitting up in a chair, but she still looked pale and weak. Deputy Riker stood next to her.
Cressida held out the bottle. “Glyceryl trinitrate?”
“Yes, yes. I need one. Please.”
Cressida glanced up at the deputy. “A glass of water. Get a glass of water.”
He nodded, then disappeared through the door.
“I can take it without water. I need it now.”
Evelyn put it under her tongue, then closed her mouth and eyes, her features relaxing.
“If there’s anything else I can do, anything else you need, please let me know,” Cressida said softly.
“Usually, the attacks aren’t so severe. This . . . this could be something more.” Evelyn opened her eyes. “I think . . . I think I’ve made a mistake. I . . . I’m so sorry, my dear. I haven’t told you the whole truth.”
Deputy Riker rushed into the room with a glass of water. “The ambulance is here.”
“Already?” Cressida asked.
“They came from Forestview and will take her to the hospital.”
A man and woman entered with a gurney, and Cressida stepped out of the way.
“I’ll ride with her, if that’s okay,” she said.
“It’s fine with us if it’s okay with her. Mrs. Monroe?”
Evelyn shook her head. Her intense gray eyes held urgency. “You stay here in this house until I get home. I won’t be long, I promise.”
“I mean . . . they’ll probably keep you overnight.” I can’t stay here that long.
“Stay. I have documents you’ll want to see. I give you permission to search for them.”
“The place is huge.”
She coughed and chuckled and grimaced as if in pain. “Start in this room, then move to the library.”
They secured Evelyn on the gurney and took her out of the room.
Cressida wanted to argue with the woman, but now wasn’t the time.
The paramedics carried her on the gurney down the stairwell.
Cressida rubbed her arms and stared out the window that Braden had warned to stay away from.
But law enforcement and an ambulance had arrived.
The danger was gone. But where was Braden?
How could she stay in this house for even an hour alone?
How could she stay here overnight? She wouldn’t.
She headed down the steps to follow the EMTs out the front door and walked next to Evelyn. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”
“I know, dear. I know.” Then she grabbed Cressida’s hand and squeezed again, with more strength than she should have had. “Do as I ask. Research. Read. Find answers. Then if you still have questions, I’ll answer all your questions for which I have answers when I return.”
“I can’t. I don’t feel comfortable—”
“Nonsense.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you, Cressida Valentine Dane, daughter of Octavia and Alaric Dane.”
Cressida couldn’t help the confused look she gave the woman.
How safe could it be in this house where the man who attacked her had been talking to the former assistant? Where someone had broken in even today?
Evelyn must have sensed Cressida’s continued resistance. “You keep that nice detective with you, and you’ll be fine.”
The paramedics shoved the gurney into the back of the ambulance and closed the door. Cressida watched it drive away.
Where is that nice detective?