The Lies I Told(62)

“Other people mentioned the camera.”

“You said everyone lies. I guess that included Clare, too.” A slight tremor rumbled in her tone. “Clare called me that last night about ten.”

“I remember the call from your phone records.”

“She said she had something to tell me. I lost count of the nights I replayed those words in my head. I’m not even sure if those worn words are even accurate or a blend of truth, time, and that pill I’d taken. Jack was sitting in front of me when she called, so I didn’t say much. I thought I’d see Clare in less than an hour.”

“You said you weren’t feeling well at Christmas.”

“Yes. Stomach pains came on suddenly. ‘My tummy hurts’ was a constant complaint. I had a battery of tests, but none of the doctors could figure it out.”

“And Clare?”

“She never got as sick as I did.”

“Were there times when it cleared up?” I asked.

“It was really bad after Mom died, and it came on and off until Brit left for college. It vanished that fall.”

“But came back at Christmas.”

“Yes.” She frowned. “When I moved out of the house for boarding school, all my symptoms went away.”

“When’s the last time you got sick like that?”

“Beyond a common cold or a raging hangover? Not at all. What’re you getting at?”

“You’ve said yourself you’ve always been a handful. Clare was the quiet one.”

Absently, she tapped a ringed finger against the mug. “What’re you getting at?”

I sighed, pissed that I’d not pressed this theory harder seventeen years ago. “I can’t prove anything, Marisa. I’ve seen similar cases, but they’re always hard to prove.”

“What cases?”

“A caregiver makes his or her charge sick. Usually it’s a mother-and-child scenario. Baby gets sick, Mom gets attention for herself while caring for the child. Child improves, attention goes away, and then the child gets sick again. It’s called Munchausen syndrome by proxy.”

She glared at me, clearly annoyed I’d brought up the idea. “Mom made me sick on purpose? Why?”

“You were likely easier to handle if you were sick and in bed. And I remember your parents had marriage problems. When one of the kids became ill, your father came home.”

She shook her head. “But I kept getting sick after Mom died.”

“You said it yourself: Brit stepped into the mother’s role.”

That prompted a startled, nervous laugh. “Brit was sick as a kid. The doctors all thought it was something genetic, but they never could figure it out. They said we’d outgrow it.”

“When did you outgrow it?”

She drew in a breath. “After Brit left for college.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose.

“Think back to all the times you were feeling good. Where was Brit?”

She closed her eyes. “She went to computer camp each summer. Clare and I always felt really good within a day or two. I thought it was the summer sun and heat that made me feel good.” She met my gaze. “We were both sick within days of her return. Why would she do that to Clare and me?”

“She learned from your mother. Your father said how much he admired how well she took care of his girls.”

She pressed fingertips against her right temple. “Daddy always appreciated Brit and how well she took care of Clare and me. He said it so often, I resented her. So did Clare.” She shook her head, a frown furrowing her brow. “I think back to the nights I’d wake up feeling ill, and she’d be there. See, I told you that you needed me. When I overdosed, she was there. After my car accident, she was a rock.”

“How was Brit after you sobered up?” I asked.

“We barely spoke.” She grabbed a bead on her bracelet and absently moved it back and forth on the chain. “Why would Mom and Brit poison me? That’s a hell of an accusation.”

“I’m not making any allegations. I’m just spitballing. Telling you what I think I saw.”

“What would this have to do with Clare’s death?”

“You said Clare resented Brit as well. Did you ever talk about those feelings?”

“The summer before Clare died, Clare was so happy to see Brit leave. And when Brit came back, she started refusing any food or drink. She kept saying she was trying to lose weight.”

“And she felt better?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe she was putting the pieces together.”

“But she never said a word to me.”

“It’s a hell of a thing to accuse someone of.”

“I caught Clare snooping in Brit’s room after Brit left for college. She brushed it off and said she was looking for lipstick or earrings.”

“And then Brit came home for the holiday break.”

“And I got sick.”

“Was Clare still snooping in Brit’s room?”

“Yes.”

“Brit got sick the night of the party?”

“That’s right.”

“Maybe Clare was putting the pieces together. Maybe she gave Brit a dose of her own medicine and wanted you both to see the results.”