Tea at Eight Every Morning
Chapter 03 - Tea at Eight Every Morning
Paramedics examined Eleanor in the library while police secured the ground floor.
Her blood pressure was dangerously low. Her pupils reacted slowly. When the paramedic asked what medications she took, Eleanor named two ordinary prescriptions.
Vanessa supplied a longer list.
Rebecca read the labels. One bottle contained a sedative Eleanor had never been prescribed by her longtime physician.
“Dr. Mercer gave her that,” Vanessa said.
“Where is the prescription record?” Rebecca asked.
“In his system.”
Officer Ortega called the clinic. Dr. Mercer had left town two days earlier. His receptionist said Eleanor had attended no appointment in six months.
Daniel sat in a leather chair, rubbing the medical tape on his arm.
Rebecca crouched in front of him. “What happened to you?”
“Blood test.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
Vanessa answered from across the room. “He had a panic attack.”
Daniel looked at his wife, then lowered his eyes.
Eleanor asked Rebecca to open the small drawer beside the tea cabinet. Inside were seven paper packets, each folded and labeled with a weekday.
“I stopped swallowing them,” Eleanor said. “I hid them under my tongue and saved them.”
The paramedic opened one packet. It contained three tablets, although Eleanor’s legitimate morning dose required only one.
Vanessa’s voice sharpened. “She hoards medication. That proves she is unstable.”
“No,” Rebecca said. “It proves she knew something was wrong.”
Eleanor described the pattern. Tea at eight. Dizziness at nine. Missing hours by noon. Documents waiting when she woke. Vanessa always said they had already been discussed.
Rebecca looked toward Daniel. “Did you witness her signing anything?”
He swallowed. “Vanessa said Mom signed in the study.”
“Did you see it?”
“No.”
“Did you see the original trust?”
“No.”
Vanessa stepped forward. “He was protecting his mother from embarrassment.”
Eleanor’s voice was quiet. “Daniel, look at me.”
Her son obeyed.
“Did you know she told me Rebecca was dead?”
His lips parted. Horror moved across his face before he could hide it.
“No,” he said. “Vanessa told me Rebecca had refused to speak to us.”
Rebecca’s anger shifted direction.
Two different lies had kept mother and children separated. One family had been divided into three private prisons, each guarded by a different story.
Officer Ortega sealed the pill packets as evidence.
Then a young officer entered carrying a metal wastebasket from Thomas’s upstairs study.
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Inside it were blackened pieces of paper.
One fragment still showed the gold seal of the United States Army.
