Lori Avocato - Nip, Tuck, Dead

“I told Mother this could never work. She’s never left me alone in my life. Never.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, falling onto my chest.

How I wanted to push him away before I vomited, but my strength hadn’t returned despite the adrenaline that pulsed through my body. Besides, Neal had gotten me confused. Mother? In past cases I’d learned to get the murderers, who usually loved to brag, to confess more and more once they got on a roll.

Neal was almost there.

And Neal was no longer rational.

The question was, what the hell would I do with the information since getting off this yacht alive looked…like a slim chance.

For a second I shut my eyes and prayed again, asking Saint Theresa for a miracle.

Neal looked up, his tear-filled eyes eerily glassy. He wasn’t seeing me any longer. But he was still talking.

“She should have stayed in Europe where she could have made a life for us. Damn her for dragging me here. I could have been a doctor in Austria and never gotten into this mess.”

This mess? I needed to know more about this mess. “I’m not following, Neal. Mess?”

He didn’t acknowledge me talking, but as if in a trance continued, “Killing Ian because the fool fell in love with Mr. Perlman.”

I gasped. My Goldie!

On one hand it was handy that Neal had snapped and started confessing, but on the other…I sure didn’t like his admissions.

Neal shifted his weight from one arm to the other. I glanced down to see he was in no “readiness” for sex (thank you, Saint Theresa), so I didn’t try to push him off but lay there listening.

“Because they are gay?” I asked, fishing for clues.

Neal scowled at me. “Because Ian’s loyalty shifted. He was going to risk our moneymaking surgical scheme for love. Love. Ha!”

I tried to weed through what he’d said, clearly admitting to the fraud, yet what else?

“Mother could have been set for life if she could only control herself.”

“Control,” I muttered in a subliminal sort of way so as not to pull Neal from his rambling.

He relaxed a bit, crushing into my chest, but I took a long deep breath and remained silent. “I did all that surgery on her, and when she came to America and married Chandler I was nearly twenty…”

Chandler? Olivia Wheaton-Chandler was Neal’s mother!

Wait a minute! Nearly twenty? That would make Neal closer to fifty than thirty. Eek! I shivered at the thought. Thank goodness we didn’t do more the other day, but too bad it was so dark, I would have noticed that he was older then.

“What happened to Chandler?”

Neal looked at me oddly, as if I should have known. “Heart attack is what the autopsy said.” He grinned an evil look, and I knew he and Olivia had probably given Mr. Chandler some medication to cause the attack-so she could get all his money. How convenient to have a doctor for a son. One who could invent a person. No wonder Adele couldn’t find anything about Olivia’s earlier life.

There was no Olivia.

Probably Olivia-not even her real name, I imagined-married for money-and murdered for the same.

“Your mother looks much younger.” I didn’t expound since I wanted to just shift his direction. The locket was still too far out of reach. Damn it.

In a rather testy tone he said, “You know I am a board certified, exemplary plastic surgeon. Mother has a penchant for younger men. Mother needs to be kept happy.”

I’ll just bet. So Olivia was made to look younger and younger but in a very clever way so as not to attract attention to her-and so she attracted young guys like Devin. Men and money. What a combo.

“Did she love Devin?” I asked, holding my breath as if Neal would snap out of this episode and strangle me in a second.

“Ha, that bastard. Olivia doesn’t love anyone. She uses him as much as he uses her. But the bastard spent way beyond their means and…that’s why I had to step in to take care of Mother.”

Made me wonder why he didn’t just “off” Devin. Maybe Mommy put the kibosh on that idea so she could keep her boy toy. Eeeeeeyew.

So, Neal was committing fraud so that his mother could live her life of luxury. But what about Forsyth Manor?

“Where did you get your house from?” At first I even stunned myself with that question, but faced with death, I figured I had nothing to lose. Then I had a thought: Maybe my cell would work out here, and I could at least leave a voice mail for Jagger.

Jagger.

Tears seeped out of the corners of my eyes. I refused to allow myself to think of any of my loved ones-as that would be my undoing. Nope. I had to keep my wits about me, fight the damn Benadryl and find out everything from Neal.

Neal looked off into the distance. “I really did love her. Emily. She gave birth to our daughter seventeen years ago, but died from hemorrhage, leaving me all of her inheritance. Emily was the only heir left to the Forsyth money-but it wasn’t nearly enough for Mother.”

So to disguise himself, Neal took his wife’s maiden name and their baby. Oh…my…God. I looked him in the eye. “You are the father? Of…Lydia.”

He didn’t even acknowledge the fact but merely said, “She was too much a reminder of her mother. I couldn’t love her.” He looked off into space and muttered, “The goddamn baby was too much of a reminder of what I could have had. What I’d lost. Well, at least I got all of the Forsyth money and house.”

That’s it, Neal. The old glass was half full in theory.

So Lydia’s grandmother, not aunt, raised her. Or at least let her live in the same mansion, but grow up unloved.

But why not let her go to Yale?

I asked Neal that question, and after him mumbling a few seconds learned that Olivia kept all of them-Neal, Devin, Ian, and Lydia-on a very short rope. If Lydia moved away, she could draw attention to the family, such as it were, and maybe even uncover their moneymaking scheme.

That’s what Lydia had meant by only trusting family.

She knew about the fraud, but had no choice in the matter.

Poor kid. No wonder she talked of suicide.

“Does your daughter know who you are?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“No.”

“Good,” I mumbled. She was better off not knowing.

“So you pushed your brother off Cliff Walk so he wouldn’t go to the authorities?”

“He already had. How ironic. He knocks off Baines, who refused to pay for Daphne’s multiple surgeries, and then found out about the diagnosis scheme we used, yet Ian too was going to bail. Poor Mother.” Neal looked me in the eyes. “And you, Ms. Sokol, investigator, are the reason we are out here. You too are not going to be allowed to ruin Mother’s scheme.”

“How…why me, Neal? Why pay all that fund-raiser money to get me out here?”

He laughed. The eerie sound had me stiffen.

“Ah. The Chandlers are known for their generosity, Pauline. We needed to make sure to keep up our stellar image.”

Stellar my ass.

“Mother kept a close eye on things recently. She’d sent Ian to check out your room at the lodge.” He laughed. “He thought he’d scare you off with the lipstick message.”

Ian? Knowing he tried to scare me made it somehow hurt more. I thought back to the pictures in the office. Ian must have been the blond child with Olivia. And I guess nurse Jackie was innocent, and it was Ian who had knocked me out.

“Mother found out about you in her spying. Very smart lady my mother. Oh, don’t flatter yourself that I spend all that money on you. There is no scholarship, the ruse was merely to make you feel as if you had to go out with me at least one more time. You might say we ‘killed two birds with one stone’ by having all of Newport admire our generosity, and getting you out here. Sealed your fate, you did, you fool.”