Page 86 of The Lies I Told
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.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Brit controls you via medications. Brit leaves for college, and then all the emotions you and Clare didn’t deal with come alive. Clare gets pregnant. Clare discovers Brit’s lies. Clare is murdered. Three things can happen and not be related, but I find that’s rarely the case.”
“Did you run DNA on Clare’s baby?” Her voice was hoarse, soaked with emotion.
“Yes. I tested the fetus’s DNA against Kurt’s, Sam’s, Jack’s, and every male at that party. I even tested your father’s.”
