Deadly Disclosure

By Missy Lane

Susan Whitfield has taken a private nursing assignment at Windward, a remote yet beautiful estate in coastal South Carolina. In addition to the magnificent scenery, there's the promise of unexpected diversion with the town's attractive police chief. Increasingly concerned that her new patient has a dark secret, she wrestles with her conscience a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melissa L. Waller
• Release date: Jun 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088162125

Missy Lane

Missy Lane was born and raised in and around Savannah, Georgia and the lowcountry of South Carolina. Her love of history and fiction writing have culminated in romantic suspense stories that feature rich characters and locations that spark the imagination and satisfy the heart. She lives on a farm with her husband of thirty six years and has two grown children and two grandchildren.

Book preview

Prologue

1978

He’d selected the rug from the mud room to transport her body. It was more pliable than the Persian in the front room, and it would be easy enough to explain its absence once his wife returned from the city. He’d already rehearsed the excuse in his mind, and she’d easily accept that Cooper had slipped in unnoticed with a duck in his mouth. He’d offer to replace the rug of course, and she’d certainly agree that replacement was preferable to dealing with the mess of blood, mud and feathers created by the pup’s mischief.

He shoveled the last of the dirt into the shallow grave and threw some yard debris on top of the displaced soil for good measure. He’d planned to leave immediately upon completion of the task, but now he was reluctant to go. He felt the stirrings of a sob welling up from somewhere deep inside, and he needed a moment to collect himself. She’d been his favorite after all, and he was more than sorry it had come to this. If only she hadn’t pressed him for so much money.

It was disappointing to know he’d never again feel her young body against his. She’d been something to look forward to for months now, but her demands had brought it all to a sorry end. The other girls had never asked for more than what was in his pocket on any given day, but this one was different. She wanted more than he could give, and that had been her downfall. He’d taken no pleasure in watching the light disappear from her eyes, but she’d left him no choice.

He walked back up the path and tossed the shovel into the back of the gardener’s truck. With any luck he’d make it back to the house before he was missed.

Chapter One

Susan rose again from the attractive, but uncomfortable chair she’d been offered by the house manager. It had taken most of the day to drive from Greenville, and she’d expected a better reception given the request to report a day earlier than originally agreed. She’d arrived at Windward on time despite the poor driving directions provided by the GPS, but she had yet to meet her new employer. She stalked to the window again with an inpatient sigh and drew the heavy draperies aside to look out at the gardens. The scenery was lovely, but she was anxious to get on with the introductions and get settled in.

She’d seen the roofline of Windward at a distance across the marsh long before the winding road led her to the oak covered drive, and it was an imposing structure even from the highway. Surely it had to be one of the largest homes in the area, and she wondered about its occupants once again. Susan had never heard of Delia and Duncan Wray, but she’d looked them up quickly enough upon the news of this new assignment. She’d read a couple of news items referencing their wealth and philanthropy, but there had been little information beyond the shallow captions contained within the society pages. All she knew was a private nurse was needed, and she’d been identified as the preferred candidate for the job. A law firm in Columbia had contacted her directly with the details of the position, and she’d been asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement in addition to the usual privacy and confidentiality assurances offered by her placement agency. This wasn’t an unusual requirement for employees of the rich and famous, but it didn’t appear these people were as high profile as some of her previous clients. Susan had cared for an oil tycoon, a retired actress and a couple of highly placed politicians over the last ten years, so she was more than a little familiar with the discretion required to guard the family secrets and maintain the public image.

She was about to return to the uncomfortable chair when the doors opened, and the house manager entered.

Ms. Delia will see you now, Ms. Whitfield. Please come with me.

The instructions were accompanied by an awkward gesture to follow him down the hall, and Susan was left to wonder if the man was as uncomfortable as he seemed.

Thank you, Roger, isn’t it? she crossed the room to do as he asked, offering her most winning smile.

The goodwill of the house staff wasn’t necessary to perform her duties, but it would certainly make life easier. Susan knew it was a precarious business to be the newcomer in a well-oiled household, and she’d always taken care to establish good relations right from the start. Roger didn’t respond but led her further down the hall to an office that featured a huge desk and an empty damask-upholstered chair. She looked around to ask Roger if she was to wait inside, but he was already gone.

She was still poised at the door, taking in the room’s beautiful crown molding and artwork, when the lady of the house entered through a side door she hadn’t noticed. Delia Wray pulled the door closed behind her and walked over to the solitary chair behind the desk.

Please come in, Ms. Whitfield. her new employer commanded, motioning Susan to come forward toward the desk with a rather impatient gesture.

No apology was offered for the wait, and the absence of any additional chairs meant she wouldn’t be invited to sit down.

Good evening, Mrs. Wray. Please let me know if you prefer to be addressed as Ms. Delia. I’m so pleased to meet you at last. I hope my early arrival has proven to be accommodating to your change of schedule?

Susan had stopped a good three feet short of the desk, drawing herself up to her full five-and-a-half-foot frame. She felt rather like a teenager called into the principal’s office, and she didn’t much care for the sensation.

Yes, thank you for agreeing to come early, and you may call me Ms. Delia, as the others do. I have a business trip planned for later in the week, and I wanted to be sure our arrangements are in order before I leave.

The woman appeared to be in her eighties, but she moved easily into the chair and pulled it toward the desk. She opened a drawer and pulled out a calendar and pen, marking notes on what remained of this month and the next. When she finished, she thrust it toward Susan in one smooth movement, arising from the chair as she did so.

Roger will take you to your quarters and see that you’re settled. He will be your point of contact for anything you need while you’re at Windward. Per our agreement, you will be responsible for my husband’s care Monday through Saturday, with Sundays off. I assume this will be adequate for any errands or personal needs. You may plan on taking the weekend of July 4th as well, as our children and their families will be joining us to celebrate the holiday. Your agency will be responsible for conveying your compensation, and it’s my understanding you will deal with them directly should you have any concerns. Ms. Whitfield, do you have any questions for me?

Thank you, Ms. Delia, that’s exactly what I understood as well. Before I assume my duties with Mr. Duncan, I’d appreciate an opportunity to review his medical records. I know he has dementia, but I wasn’t given any information about which type, or his health otherwise. A medical history would allow me to get an idea of the progression, as well as any other issues or concerns.

Susan was familiar with the curt, authoritarian style exhibited by her new employer, but she planned to be as resolute as possible regarding her request for additional information.

I will be happy to provide you with a telephone number for our physician. Dr. Murray will advise you should a need arise. Ms. Delia’s tone said the matter was closed, but Susan pressed for at least one concession.

I believe you have other homes in addition to this one. Familiarity is so important for dementia patients, and I’d like to know more about his level of comfort here at Windward.

Ms. Whitfield, we have been summering here at Windward for over 50 years, and I assure you that he is as comfortable here as any other place we call home. You will be alerted regarding any matters or concerns that require vigilance or accommodation on your part.

Ms. Delia turned to exit through the same door she entered, pausing long enough to make a strange declaration.

You’re prettier than I’d hoped. I will have to speak with Rosemund about his failure to mention it.

Susan was startled by the statement but felt the need to respond.

In Mr. Rosemund’s defense, I’m sure I suffered in comparison to the young blond I saw at the reception desk. I feel certain he had no cause to notice any attributes of mine, considering her presence in the office.

Delia Wray turned to face her newest employee head on.

It’s a sad fact of life that most men value a buxom form over a robust intellect, and I’m sure our Mr. Rosemund is no exception. I specifically asked for someone who is competent, mature and discreet, no more, no less, and I will have to trust in his assessment relative to your suitability. I also trust you will enjoy your summer at Windward.

Susan was alone within seconds of the exchange, so she headed back the way she came in search of Roger. There had been no mention of just when her duties with Mr. Duncan would start, and she had to wonder what her life would look like over the next few months. This assignment was far different than her past care experiences, and she knew the isolation of Windward played a role in her trepidation. Regardless of how uncomfortable she was feeling right now, Susan had an idea that life would improve for everyone once Ms. Delia left for her business trip.

______________________________

Raif Rogers had been Chief of Police for exactly two weeks when he received the call from the county sheriff.

Just wanted to let you know the Wrays have arrived at Windward. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from them before too long, but I wanted you to have a heads up.

The sheriff had called Raif’s personal cell rather than the police station, and the caller ID indicated it hadn’t come from the county office either.

Well thanks, Tom. The information almost sounds like a warning. Is there something I should know? Raif responded.

The sheriff laughed and reassured the new chief as best he could.

Don’t read anything into it just yet. We’ll talk again after you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Delia.

I’m not familiar with Windward, Tom. Is that located within the city limits? the new chief queried.

It isn’t. It’s county jurisdiction, but Ms. Delia has a way of making her presence felt at all levels. You’ll be fine. Why don’t we do lunch next week, after you’ve had more time to get more familiar with your new town?

Sure thing. I’ve already had a visitor regarding a cold case. I haven’t had a chance to look it up, but I’ll want to find out what you know about it.

They said their goodbyes and Raif returned the cell phone to his pocket. Delia Wray. He may have heard the name before, but it wasn’t ringing a bell right now. If Tom’s intel was right, he’d meet the woman sooner rather than later. He’d been working late the last couple of weeks, but he just had to get home at a decent time tonight. There were boxes to unpack and a frozen dinner to prepare. He switched off the lights and checked the lock twice.

Chapter Two

Susan switched off the lamp and climbed into the large four poster bed well before her usual bedtime. Normally she’d tuck in right after the local news, but there was no television in the room. Her lodging was on the third level of the main house and included a parlor, a bedroom and a large bath. The furnishings and draperies were grand in scale and appeared to be no less expensive than the appointments in the rest of the house. Roger had provided her with a password for the wireless internet but had warned her it wasn’t high speed. It had taken forever to upload her initial report to her supervisor, which seemed hardly worth the effort since she had yet to meet her patient.

Hoping her cell phone would allow her to feel a little less disconnected, she scrolled through some new Facebook posts and sent some well-wishes out to a few friends. The posts and messages were slow to load and send, which meant the cell service was less than spectacular too. It appeared that much of her off time would be spent reading the old-fashioned way, and she made a mental note to check with Roger about a library or bookstore.

Susan thought about what she’d be doing now if she’d chosen another path. Life as a private assignment nurse had kept her away from friends and family for months at a time, but she preferred it to the traditional healthcare setting. She’d spent 25 years in hospitals, working nights, days and a lot of weekends. Over the course of her career, she’d worked in the ER, OR, Labor & Delivery, Rehabilitation and Oncology. Most of it could be described as endless stretches of boredom punctuated by moments of chaos or tragedy. She’d taken a few months off in ’91 and again in ‘93, but now her son and daughter were up and out, enjoying their lives and having adventures of their own. She couldn’t exactly say where her ex-husband was these days, and that was okay. He kept in touch with the children, and they knew where to find him should the need arise. She sent both kids a text confirming arrival at her new post, wished them a safe Memorial Day weekend, and returned the phone to the charging dock.

Susan was just about to drift off for a much-needed sleep when she heard a loud knock on the outer door. She jumped out of bed and fumbled around for her robe, desperately trying to recall if she’d left it on the foot of the bed or in the bathroom. She switched on the bedside lamp, grabbed the robe, and hurried to the door. Roger was in the corridor, bleary eyed, but still in his day clothes.

Ms. Whitfield, can you please assist me with Mr. Duncan? He’s been roaming tonight…, but I’ve located him on the south lawn. He’s quite put out with me…, but I thought you might be able to coax him back into the house?

Roger was out of breath, and it was obvious he’d expended great effort to ascend three flights of stairs in