Dangerous Inheritance
by Shirley E. Watson
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Shirley E. Watson
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Chapter 1
The man that lay sprawled over the bar emitted a high snorting noise interspersed with grunts. He gave no sign he heard footsteps passing him to the outside door. The bartender unlocked and opened the heavy plank door, allowing sunlight to hit the sleeping man’s closed eyes. This roused him enough to raise his head slightly but he squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to will the pain away. He lowered his head again but a cascade of icy water soaked his face and pooled under his head as the bartender chuckled. To the man, it seemed as though demons with pitchforks were battering the inside of his skull trying to get out. With a scream, he jerked upright. Then held his head, moaning. A tangle of long glossy brown hair swirled around his face, while water dripped from the end of his nose.
He lurched into speech. “What the…? Was that necessary, you benighted cretin?”
Dan, the bartender, replaced the water pitcher behind the bar. “Always the poet, Derek? Is that what that expensive education did for you? Lets you abuse me in more than four letter words? Save that for the songs you write. When you write them.”
Derek blinked through a haze at Dan, who looked at him and shook his head, before taking up a cleaning rag and wiping down the bar. “Why don’t you go home, Derek? I’m not gonna let you stay here any more like this. I could get in trouble.”
Derek’s voice was hoarse. “Weeeel….got to tell you. Don’t have a place any more. The landlord said that’s it. Too far behind in the rent. Say, don’t you have anything for a hangover, Dan? This head’s gonna kill me.”
Dan laughed. “OK, let me make you my Special. Should help.” He peeled a banana, added honey from a jar, poured in some milk, then blended it all with ice, looking up as a shadow cut the bright sun from the door. Against the bright light, a woman’s shape appeared for a moment. Before the bartender could inform her they were really not open yet, she advanced rapidly into the dim room, nose wrinkled at the reek of of stale beer and smoke. She strode up to the man leaning on the bar and raised her hand.
Derek instinctively leaned away. “Oh, darlin’, don’t hit me. I’m just too weak.” He turned his head and retched. The woman stepped back and frowned.
“Listen, Derek, I had to walk to the bus last night, all through these dark streets. You promised to drive me home, and then you got so dead drunk I had to leave you here. I would never get into a car with somebody pissed like you were, anyway.”
In spite of the pain in his head, Derek’s lips turned up in an almost grin. “Oh, yeah. That’s not what you said last week, honey bun.” He dodged the punch she aimed at him and cried out as the pain of moving hit him. He stumbled off the bar stool and ran, crouching, for the men’s room.
The woman, an attractive brunette, shook her head. “I don’t know why I bothered. I’ve had enough of liars and drunks to last me a lifetime. He’s good-lookin’ but he’s not worth it.”
Dan grinned. “Suit yourself, Mandy. He sings pretty though, don’t he?”
The woman stamped a delicate foot encased in a cowboy boot. “Well, he can sing to some other fool. I’m out of here. See you, Dan.” Her feet beat a tattoo on the wooden floor as she hurried to the door and slammed it behind her. The bartender shook his head and went across to open the door a crack again.
Derek returned from the men’s room. He sat stiffly on the bar stool with the movements of an old man, as though everything hurt somewhere. His white, ill reflection mocked him from behind the bar. “Where’s that drink you made me? I’ve got to get something in my stomach before my head falls off and rolls away.” He looked at the glass.
“What’s this, a milkshake?” His stomach was already protesting.
The bartender pushed it towards him. “It will do you good. Shut up and just drink it. You need it.”
Derek grasped the glass and downed the drink in two swallows. Then laid his head on the bar again. “Mandy left?”
The cool surface of the bar felt so good. Maybe the hangover remedy was working. He almost dropped off again but he could hear the clinking as Dan straightened the glasses on the rack behind the bar. The bartender asked, “I guess there’s no use telling you to change your evil ways?” He began to hum, “You gotta change your evil ways, baby.”
Derek mumbled, “What, and miss all this fun? Please don’t sing in that loud voice.” He belched.
“Are you going to be all right to play tonight?”
Derek raised his head, his dark blue eyes beginning to clear. “Am I not always? Of course. But I’ve got to get out of here. I need to stop by the PO to make sure they hold my mail there. Not that I get much except junk, but who knows, might hear something about a new gig. And, unbelievable but possible, maybe a check.”
“So stop talking and get going. Where are you going to live now?”
“Well, that my friend, is the question, ain’t it?” he ran a hand carefully through his tangled hair and shoved it back off his face. “Guess I can scratch Mandy off the list.” He looked so hangdog the bartender suddenly let out a snort of laughter.
Dan leaned against the bar and stared at Derek, who had his head down on the bar again. “I like my hair short. I could never wear it as long as you do. And by the way, get your mangy locks off my bar.”
Derek grinned shakily at him as he raised his head again. “It’s a rock and roll style, Dan. You’re not a rock and roll kind of guy.”
The bartender looked offended. “Works for some, I guess. At least I’ve got a steady job. How about you?”
Derek groaned again and clutched his head. His voice pleaded. “Sure, hit me while I’m down, buddy. I’ve got some talent, right, Dan?”
Dan came around the bar into the room and picked up a broom that was leaning in the corner. He began sweeping.
“I guess. Yeah, you do. But where are you going with it? Have to tell you, a lot of guys with talent have come through here. And then they’re gone. Never returned, never heard of ‘em again.”
Derek didn’t answer. The bartender shrugged, apparently losing interest, and went to the back of the room.
Derek said, lowering himself carefully from the stool. “I guess I’d better get going, Dan. I’ll see you later. Thanks for the drink. It worked.”
“Oh, yeah. Later, Dude.” The bartender fiddled with a light fixture in the back but didn’t turn around.
Derek winced as he emerged into the bright sunlight. The hangover remedy had helped but it usually took a while before he could function fully. He thought he’d grab something to eat later, when his stomach stopped dancing. He walked away from the tavern down the dusty street. His head hurt with every step but it seemed to be helping to get into the fresh air even though the temperature was climbing. He inhaled the sharp scent of the ponderosa pine across the street and the earthy smell of the sandy soil. It must have rained last night. Poor Mandy! She’d have been soaked as she walked. He felt briefly sorry he’d let her down like that. Oh, well, they had nothing in common, really. He knew tons of women and the loss of one was not all that upsetting. Mandy was a big girl. Better without him, anyway.
Derek drew in another lung-full of the rain-washed air and walked on. He jerked open the screen door of the tiny Post Office and fumbled for the key to his box. Pulling out a heap of junk advertising and catalogs he took the pile over to the trash bin. As the unwanted bills and circulars cascaded in, he noticed an envelope that was stuck among the junk mail. He gripped it before it disappeared into the can. “Damn, I wish they wouldn’t give me so much crap. I could have lost this and it could be something important. Like a check.” He dropped it in a pocket and left the Post Office, the door banging behind him and startling a gecko into darting behind the adobe wall.
Next stop: Doreen’s. It wasn’t much farther. Being so close to the main street where the bar was located was a major point in her favor. He knocked on the green-painted door of her condo. It crossed his mind briefly how he must look dressed in yesterday’s crumpled khakis and plaid shirt, hair wild on his shoulders, bloodshot eyes (he surmised) and (probably) foul breath. For once, he looked pretty good, hah!
He could hear Doreen’s heels tapping to the door. She opened the door a crack and looked out. Looked like she wanted to close it again.
“Derek. What do you want?”
“Doreen, we’ve been friends for a while now, right?”
“If you call a year a while, that’s correct.”
“Can I ask you a humongous favor?”
“This doesn’t sound good. Have you been thrown out of your apartment again?”
“You know me too well, Doreen. But you’re my best friend.”
“Are you kidding?” Doreen rolled her green eyes.
“Honey, can I come in for a while?”
Grudgingly, she opened the door wider. “Well, you don’t look good. You can come in. We’ll talk.”
Derek pushed through the door before she could change her mind. “Doreen, you’re my angel.”
“Yeah, uh huh. We’ll see about that.” She recoiled from him as he leaned near her. “I see nothing has changed, Derek. Why don’t you go in and take a shower? You obviously need one. I’ve got some clothes you can use. I’ve got things to do, like get to work. So be quick.”
Derek gratefully went into the bathroom and turned on the water. The warmth trickled down his back and he closed his eyes. He was landing on his feet again. This guy knew how to live, didn’t he? He even hummed a few bars of the song he’d been working on.
He was shocked out of the dreamlike state by Doreen pounding on the door. “I’ve got to pay for all that hot water, Derek. I think you’ve had enough time in there.”
Derek yelled back. “OK, OK, I’m coming out.”
“Women,” he thought, as he toweled himself dry and pulled on the clean clothes Doreen had given him. They must belong to her new boyfriend. He transferred his few possessions and his unopened mail to the pants pockets and threw the dirty clothes on the floor. Doreen would take care of it. She’d always had a thing for him, hadn’t she? He rinsed out his mouth and scrubbed his teeth with a finger. There was mouthwash on a shelf and he swilled it around and spit it in the basin. That was a big improvement.
Doreen glanced up as he came into the kitchen. She was loading her dishwasher and wiping down the counter. She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
She smoothed her dark hair back from her face and frowned slightly. “I don’t know if you think you can just waltz back in here, Derek, but you can’t. I’m seeing a super nice guy and he’ll understand I want to help out a friend, but it stops there. I’ll let you stay here for tonight if you need to, in my spare room, but you’ve got to make other arrangements.”
Derek set down his cup for a moment and went over and tried to put his arms around her. She pushed him away angrily. “I mean it, Derek. You really need to grow up.”
He gulped his coffee and threw himself on the sofa. “What fun would that be?” He rolled over and felt paper rustling in his pocket. He pulled it out, hoping somehow there was a $10 bill there. Instead it was an envelope of heavy cream colored paper, looking official somehow. Oh, yeah, the mail. Better open it. He slit it with a finger.
“What’s that, Derek?”
“It beats me. It’s from some lawyer or other up in Massachusetts. Who could be suing me up there?”
“Read it and find out.”
Derek read silently. “OK, this must be a joke of some kind. It says I have to go up there and see this guy next week.”
Doreen’s eyes widened. ‘How are you going to get there? In that old junker you call a car? You just got thrown out of your apartment. Where would you get the money to fly?”
“Down at the bottom of the letter, it says there are etickets waiting for me at the airport. This guy must have money. I wonder if he’s going to give me any of it?”
“Why would he do that? Who is he?”
Derek looked at Doreen. “I have no clue. My grandparents did come from New England, but I never met them. My Mom went out to Tennessee when I was little. She split from my Dad and she kind of indicated her own Dad had no use for her. Bastard. Her Mom had died and she had no place to go to. We never had two nickels to rub together, she used to say, but we’ll survive. She always thought she’d get that big singing contract. Poor Mom. She never lived long enough to do it.”
Doreen studied him. He’d never talked that much about himself before. His real self, not the crazy rock and roll image he tried to create.
“So you don’t know anything about her life beforehand?”
“She didn’t like to talk about it. I used to see my Dad once in a while before we came down to Texas. He sent me tuition money for college. But I haven’t heard anything for a long time. Guess he doesn’t care, either. Guess he thinks he bought me off and I’m off his hands now. So I have no idea. In fact, I think if any of them heard she was dead, it must have been later, because nobody but me and her friends came to her funeral. Maybe that’s the way she wanted it.”
“Do you think this has something to do with them – your grandparents or your Dad?”
“I wouldn’t know. Maybe they heard I’m some kind of famous singer. That would have been something my Mom might have told them. She loved to imagine me on a stage with thousands of people screaming. Her son the rock star. I hope they don’t think they can get money from me!” Derek frowned.
Doreen laughed and laughed. “I’d like to see them try. If you had any, I’d be first in line!”
CHAPTER 2
Cassie scanned the book handed to her by a library patron and piled it with the others, then lifted the pile of books and then with a shy smile, put it in the arms of the customer It was 10 AM on Saturday, and the patrons were streaming in to get their books, videos, attend programs, everything this modern library had to offer. She glanced back at the librarian who was coming forward to assist with the influx. Barbara was gray haired and plump, with gold glasses perched on her nose. Cassie thought you might have guessed her occupation if you met her in the street. She had a wise, bookish air. Cassie, just an assistant, admired what she thought of as Barbara’s sophistication. One of her daydreams was to visualize her own name, Cassandra O’ Connor, Librarian, on a brass plate. Somewhere. It would signify that she had got her MLS degree.
She pushed her reading glasses up her nose and peered at the slip handed to her by the next customer. The man was requesting a hold on a current thriller. “Sir, I know we still have these slips around, but they’re outdated. Did you know, you can reserve that online now?” She added hesitantly. “I can reserve it if you want, though.” But the man had snatched the slip back and went off without looking at her or even saying thank you. Cassie twitched her sweater in place where it hung loosely on her slender body and fixed a smile on her face for the next patron.
Her sister Lee had commented on how thin she looked and she responded that she didn’t feel much of an appetite these days.
“Running out to see Dad almost every night – and don’t say anything, I’m glad to do it—well, I just don’t feel like eating a heavy dinner. I’d have indigestion. A sandwich is fine most of the time.”
The phone beside her rang and she picked it up. “Stanton County Library, may I help you?”
“Yes, you may, sweet thing.”
“Oh, Rob, hello. I’m at work. Of course, you know that, you called me here. I mean it’s pretty busy today. I don’t have much time to talk.” She paused, wondering if this was too rude. “How are you?”
“Just fine, darlin’ There’s a concert tonight. Like to go? It’s that Country Western thing where different bands sit in. Do you remember we talked about it and we always said we meant to go, so why not tonight?”
“Well, I don’t know. Not much time to think about it right now. Let me call you back. Maybe you could ask somebody else if you’re really anxious to go?”
“No, honey, I need to know now. I’ve got to see if they have seats left and reserve a couple. C’mon, live large.”
“Well, all right, Rob, count me in. What time?”
“Let me pick you up at six and we’ll go from there, have a bite to eat first.”
“That’s fine. Now I’ve really got to run.”
“Bye, babe. See you later.”
Cassie hung up and served the next customer who wanted to renew their library membership card. She thought it was funny Rob called her a babe. She was anything but.
Another aide, Mary Ellen, came over. “Talking to that cute Rob again, huh?”
Cassie nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, you don’t seem too excited about it. I’d kill to get a date with him.”
Cassie looked at her. “Well, Rob is nice, that’s true. He’s a great guy. I just….well.” How could she explain that it was hard for her to imagine someone being really interested in her? “Sometimes I think he just feels sorry for me. That’s why he asks me out. I don’t think of it as a date.”
Mary Ellen rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t care why he asked me out. I would seize the day, Cass. Seize whatever I could.” She laughed. “That dark curly hair, those brown eyes like chocolate syrup, those muscular arms, that cute behind. Oh, my!”
Cassie shrugged impatiently, intent on her work. “Please stop. We’re just friends. It’s good to have friends. He’s more like a brother, really. Our mothers knew each other and we’ve known each other forever. No surprises.”
“Sometimes surprises are good, Cassie”
“Not for me. I’ve got a plan.”
Mary Ellen stared at her curiously. “Really?” She shook her head. “What does he do, again?”
Cassie stacked some books on the cart to be shelved. “He’s an engineering consultant with two other men. It’s their own company. I think they do quite well with it and it’s nice that he can make his own hours. End of story.”
Mary Ellen looked wistful. “Making your own hours. Sounds great, doesn’t it?” She rolled the cart of books away to shelve them.
When Cassie’s shift ended, she trudged out to her car. She put a finger on what seemed to be a new place where the paint was missing. It was starting to be a little noticeable. Oh, well, it didn’t cost that much to run, no sense worrying about appearances. But she wondered if she should try to touch it up. She’d have to ask Rob if he knew if this might lead to a rust spot. It had been running well, without any major problems, thank Heavens, she thought.
When she pulled up in front of her rented condo, there seemed to be no empty parking spaces. Her roommate’s car was in their one assigned space. She drove around and around in frustration until someone pulled out.
Fitting her key into the lock, she opened the front door and threw her bag and coat on a chair. She went into the tiny kitchen and poured herself a Coke. On her way to the living room couch, she grabbed her mail from the table beside the door and flopped down. Her roommate, Alice, turned down the sound of the newscast.
“Hard day at the library?” she asked, holding the remote ready to turn up the sound again.
Cassie was leafing through her mail. “Pretty much as usual. Go back to your program” She went on, talking as much to herself as to Alice, “The dentist bill so soon! I only went there two days ago. Well, I guess I’ll have to pay it sooner or later, anyway. They can wait a few days until I get paid again.” She thrust the other mail into her pocketbook to deal with later and jumped up to go into the bedroom. She looked back at Alice, “I need to get going. I’m going out tonight..”
Alice looked away from the TV as Cassie came out of the bedroom carrying clean clothing, heading for the bathroom.
“Rob, right? Hope you have a great time. Where are you going? Any place exciting?”
“Some country music concert.”
“Oh, sounds nice. Fill me in later.”
Alice turned up the newscast again.
Cassie showered and towel dried her long pale blonde hair. She tied it back into a pony tail with a black ribbon and put on a pale green dress. She went out into the living room.
Alice looked over and grimaced. “Aren’t you going to wear a little make up? You’re very pale without it, and that color….” She broke off..
But Cassie shook her head. “You know I don’t wear a lot of make-up, Alice. We’re just going to a country music concert, anyway.”
Alice was something of a fashionista, as the current term was. Cassie knew she was usually up on all the latest trends and always looked cute with her short dark hair in a chic cut and slim figure. She seemed as though she would like to say a lot more on her favorite subject but was prevented from doing it by the front door bell.
Cassie escaped the fashion lesson. “Rob’s here. See you later, Alice.”
The concert was in a local Fire Hall. People streamed in wearing casual clothes and some wore Western shirts. A few women wore boots and wide skirts. Friends called to friends, children fidgeted, it was a noisy scene.
Rob patted Cassie’s hand. “Glad you came, Halfpint.” It was his childhood nickname for her. “Now isn’t this fun?”
She glanced at him. “Well, let’s see how the music is, first.” She gave him a smile to indicate that she really was enjoying his invitation. They had gone to a local steakhouse before the concert and he’d urged her to have wine while he had a beer. He took a swallow and put down the mug.
“Relax, Cassie. Just for tonight, don’t worry about your Dad. Try to have a little fun.” Rob looked at her with a grin.
She gripped the stem of the wine glass and sipped at the Cabernet. She took a deep breath and caught his expression. It seemed like he was hanging over a toddler earnestly trying to get it to eat. She couldn’t help laughing and he laughed along with her.
“That’s the idea. Now how about those T-bones?”
They were now sitting on folding chairs and the musicians were tuning their instruments. She shifted on the metal seat and adjusted her bag on the floor. She saw her forgotten mail poking out of it and pulled it out to examine it while they waited. She stared at the envelope, then ripped it open and frowned at the letterhead of a Massachusetts lawyer.
“What is this?” She opened and read the letter quietly, then put it down and looked up at the stage. She was still so long that Rob complained that she wasn’t replying to his comments.
He looked down at her. “Something wrong?”
“I hope not. It looks like I’m supposed to be going to Boston next week. I don’t know if I can do that, Rob.”
“Going to Boston? What is it? Is something wrong?” He looked at the letter lying in her lap.
Cassie shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. This letter says a lawyer up there wants to see me. Something about my grandfather. I guess I’ll have to go to find out what it is.”
“Listen, whatever it is, I know you can handle it. And Boston isn’t far away. Doesn’t it say what it’s about in the letter?”
She handed him the letter. He scanned it, then reached over and patted her hand.
“At least it seems all aboveboard. I’ve heard of that lawyer. He’s almost famous, gives seminars occasionally that I wouldn’t mind attending. Hey, maybe your grandpa left you a little money. Ever think of that?”
Cassie laughed. “That seems fantastic. But I could use a couple of hundred dollars if he wants to give it to me. My car could use it.” Then she frowned.
“But my Dad. Who’s going to be here for him?”
“How about your sister.? Can’t she take over for a couple of days?”
“I don’t think so. I can get away, but she can’t leave her job and the child, too. She’s got so much responsibility. That’s why I’m the one who tries to keep an eye on Dad.”
“Well, Cass, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
“You will?”
“Yes, if it means that much to you.”
“You know, Rob, I think it might mean something. I just have the feeling it might be important. I’ve always wondered about my grandparents. I know nothing about them, really. This might be my one chance to find out. I’m going to do it.”
Rob squeezed her hand harder. “Hey, that’s the spirit! I think you should do it. You put so much time into worrying about your Dad. You deserve a little trip.”
The band had finished tuning up and now they struck up a lively song. Everyone clapped along with the music and Cassie found herself doing the same. She grinned at Rob. He smiled back and pretended to play an air guitar.
CHAPTER 3
The lights were romantically low, candles burned on the tables, fresh flowers decorated the center. The smells wafting from the direction of the kitchen were heavenly. Too bad I’m not a customer instead of schlepping this heavy tray around every night, thought Lee Girard as she hurried to the customers with a sizzling steak for the man and a shrimp salad for the lady. The woman looked up with a smile and picked up her fork. “I’m starving tonight, honey,” she said to the man she was with. “Oh, this is good!” she commented to Lee as she sampled one of the grilled shrimp.
“Glad you like it. Anything else I can get you?” Lee asked. When the answer was no, she hurried back to her station. Her shift was almost over, thank Heavens. Her feet ached and she was ready to relax in front of the TV. Finally, the last customer was served and she looked at her tips. Not too bad a night. The last customer had tipped well. She threw off her apron, pulled on a jacket and went out into the night. Her old car started up well. It didn’t look like much, she thought, but mechanically, it was OK. Thanks to her last boyfriend. Even if he sucked as a romantic partner, he was talented as a mechanic. She didn’t know what her current boyfriend was good at, though. Not much, she thought as she drove home. At first, like all the other dates she’d had, she was blinded by the dream. This dream was of a man who was besotted with her, who only wanted to carry her off and treat her like a princess, give her that fairytale ending. Somehow, it all went wrong by the third or fourth date, but by that time, she was committed to something. And it wasn’t easy to get rid of them.
Jay had to be the worst one yet. He was incapable of seeing anything except in reference to himself. She thought he had a good job but apparently, it was only a job he aspired to. He hadn’t got it yet. So essentially, she thought, he was crashing on her couch. She’d have to get rid of him fast. She couldn’t afford to support anyone else in addition to herself. She wanted to get a bigger apartment and bring home her six year old son, who was currently living with a friend while Lee got her act together after the divorce. Yeah, right.
She pulled into the parking lot in front of the apartment building. Hurrying up the stairs, she unlocked the door to loud music. Jay was drinking beer and had the stereo turned up.
She gritted her teeth. He was good looking but she didn’t think she could take this a minute longer.
“The neighbors will be complaining, Jay. Can you turn it down?”
He grinned lazily and stretched. “Come over here, sweet one. Forget the nosy neighbors.”
“I can’t forget them. I don’t want to get thrown out of my place.”
“Oh, you’ll find another one fast. You’ve got a good job. You’re smart.”
“It’s not all that easy to get a job, Jay.” Something you don’t know because, apparently, you never look for one, she thought.
How did she get herself involved this way? After the last relationship, she had sworn off men. But she had a soft heart and a sad story touched her. She also tended to believe plausible, good looking men. I’ve got to learn to recognize a con job, she told herself. At least, she got her car fixed with her last romance, she thought with a wry humor that told her she might be getting some perspective.
“Jay, is there any of that casserole left?”
“Er, sorry. I thought you left it all for me.”
Lee went to make herself a grilled cheese sandwich. She looked at Jay, stretched on the couch, his hand slapping it in time to the music, eyes closed.
“I’ve got a call to make.”
He didn’t answer or open his eyes.
She took the sandwich into the bedroom and shut the door. She dialed her friend’s number.
“Hi, Andrea. I know it’s late, but how is Stevie doing?”
“Oh, Lee, he’s asleep. But he had a good day. We talked about school again. He’s looking forward to starting kindergarten in the Fall. He really loves his daycare, you know. I didn’t think he needed it, but now I have to admit you were right. The couple of days a week in a playgroup is good for him. He misses you so much, though.” Her friend sounded tired. Lee felt bad about dumping this responsibility on her. Andrea had raised her own family already. But they both thought that Stevie would have a more stable life with Andrea babysitting him until Lee could get settled. Andrea asked again, “Still no word about his Dad? Do you think you’ll be able to get child support?”
Lee said, “No, and to tell the truth, Andrea, I’m not sure I’ll ever hear anything. He was getting heavy into drugs. But don’t say anything to Stevie.”
Andrea sighed. “Of course, not. Well, don’t worry, he’s doing OK. He’s a good boy.”
Lee’s heart contracted. She wished she could spend more time with Stevie. She swallowed over a lump in her throat. “I’ll be over tomorrow night. I have off. I’m hoping by the Fall, I can get that new apartment with the two bedrooms and he can come live with me again. Once he starts school, I won’t need so much daycare and if you can fill in babysitting, that would be great. I miss him so much, too.”
“You can come live with us anytime, you know, I’ve got that extra room.”
“Yes, I know, but I need to be independent, Andrea. I appreciate the offer. Maybe just keep it for now in case I need to take you up on it some time.”
“Of course. You don’t even have to ask. When I was your age…..but you don’t want to hear all that.”
“You’re a good friend. You understand. Good night, kiss Stevie for me.”
“OK, Lee, just remember that you’re a good Mom, too. How’s it going with your friend Jay? Anything good there?” Andrea sounded curious.
“I can’t talk about it now. I’ll fill you in later.” Lee hung up. She finished her sandwich and her head dropped on the pillow. A tapping on the door aroused her and she called. “Yes?”
Jay’s voice was thick. “C’mon out and join the fun. I miss ya. I just love curvy brunettes with attitude.”
She opened the door a crack. “I’m really tired. I’m just going to go to bed.”
He persisted, leaning towards her, a wave of beer fumes floating from him. “Alone? I’ve been waiting just for you.”
She shut the door firmly. “Sorry, I just need my rest.”
There was a crash that sounded as though he had kicked something. Lee’s nerves jangled. She leaned against the door, listening. “Well, I’m bored. I might go out.” he called through from the other side.
Lee let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. “OK I don’t mind. Go ahead.”
She heard him banging around a little and then the door opened and closed again. He’d pull the couch out later, probably waking her from sleep. How did she get herself into these situations? She made sure the door was firmly shut. Then put a chair under the handle. This relationship or whatever it was had to end. She was so over it.
She pulled on her pajamas and sank into bed and was asleep instantly, her tired body taking over. If Jay made noise in the living room, or tried the door handle, she never heard it.
The next morning, she woke and remembered it was her day off. She felt better instantly. Jay, as expected, snored on the couch. She ignored him. Time to catch up on neglected chores, get out into the fresh air, go to Andrea’s and see Stevie. She looked around at the battered forty year old furniture and once again resolved to have better stuff when she and Stevie got their own place. There was a pile of mail haphazardly thrown on the sideboard. From yesterday. She took it up and threw most of it out right away. All junk mail. A couple of bills and an envelope that looked like it came from some fancy lawyer. She opened it, curious. Huh, how about that, it really was from a fancy lawyer. Maybe it’s real, not one of those scams they’re always sending. She almost tossed it into the wastebasket anyway, but the quality of the paper made her hold onto it, Didn’t look like the rest of the junk mail. She slit it open and read it. They’re giving me tickets to Boston? That doesn’t make sense. I’d have to take time off work. It has to be some kind of con. Nevertheless, she didn’t throw it out. The rich cream-colored heavy stationery with the fancy printing wasn’t something that just anybody sent.
She made tea and sat sipping it. Then she called a friend, a waitress named Sally Ann, and described the letter.
“Did you get anything like that in the mail recently?”
“Read it to me?”
Lee read it.
Sally Ann said, “No, I didn’t get that letter. Either it’s something new or it’s legit. Why don’t you call them up and try to get some more information. Do they have a phone number?”
“Yes, they do. I guess I might as well. What if it’s something that Randy thought up?”
“You don’t think he’d try to take Stevie away from you?”
“I don’t know. He just cut out and disappeared one day and that was the last I heard of him. I’ve always been afraid he’d turn up again. I’ve got custody, but it’s always been in the back of my mind that he might decide to take Stevie away. I’m not sure if he can do that or not. But where is he?”
“Well, only one way to find out what this thing is. When you know, call me back. By the way, if you need time off, I could fill in. I’d like to make some extra money.”
“OK, thanks, Sal.”
Lee hung up and listened to the snoring coming from the couch. She went into the bedroom and called the number on the letter. No sense in keeping herself in suspense.
A voice with what she would have described as a “snooty accent” that told her the woman was used to talking with rich people answered. “Clifton Montville’s office, Klara Voss speaking.”
Lee felt reassured when she heard her voice. It didn’t seem like the voice of a con artist. But of course, they would sound plausible, wouldn’t they?
“Can you tell me what this is all about?” she asked Klara, after introducing herself and explaining that she had received a letter.
“It’s too complicated to explain over the phone. But I assure you, everything is quite aboveboard. You’ll have to come here so Mr. Montville can talk with you. I’m just Mr. Montville’s assistant.”
Lee hesitated.
Klara Voss went on, “I’m sure you’re reluctant to just drop everything and come here. I would be, in your place. So Mr. Montville arranged with a lawyer in your town to vouch for us. If you call Mortimer, Sachs and McDowell tomorrow, they will assure you we are above board.”
Lee was reassured. Mortimer Sachs was the top law firm in the county. She would definitely get in touch with them though.
She said, “Well, I’m trusting you, now. I will call Mortimer Sachs as you said, of course. Because I’ll have to leave my job for a week, and leave my son with a babysitter. This better not be a waste of my time. I just can’t afford it.”
“I promise you, Ms. Girard, this will not be a waste of your time. You will stay in a hotel and we will pay your expenses while you’re here.” The woman’s voice was smooth and soothing.
“You know, I just can’t believe this can be on the up and up. Do you really sell timeshares, Ms. Voss? Just tell me now, because I can’t afford anything like that. You’d be wasting your money to bring me up there.”
Klara sounded as though she was stifling a laugh and said, “No, we are not a timeshare company. Mr. Montville wouldn’t like to hear that. He is quite a distinguished lawyer. You can look him up if you want. And Jack Valiant at Mortimer Sachs can tell you quite a lot. We’ve done business with them occasionally. And Jack was at law school with Mr. Montville.”
Lee finally made up her mind. “Well, all right. I’ll come. But if anyone tries to sell me something, I’m leaving and going home again. My time is valuable to me. You’re warned.”
“I think you’ll find everything will be all right, Ms. Girard. Don’t worry. Mr. Montville will explain it. You will have no further obligation. And Boston is wonderful at this time of year.”
Lee let herself dream for a moment. Boston, where wealthy eligible men like the fabled Kennedys had lived. Then curbed herself. Get a grip. Just go and take a little vacation for a couple of days. You need it. You can even visit Filene’s basement, if it’s still there.
“I’m coming, Ms. Voss. I’m relying on you.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
CHAPTER 4
In an office complex in Boston, Clifton Montville watched Klara Voss, as she placed the folder on his wide, softly gleaming walnut desk and walked to the door. In her chic black suit, she was the image of the perfect legal assistant. She was expensive and he surmised she considered herself worth it. A perfect complement to himself. He chuckled inwardly. He didn’t come cheap, either. But the man whose will they were about to read wouldn’t have cared about the cost. He was used to demanding the best and he knew he had to pay for it. All he needed was that his wishes be carried out, wishes that were just a little more involved than the simple reading of a will. Klara reached the office door and looked at the three specimens of humanity scattered around the waiting room. She paused, waiting, looking back at Clifton.
Clifton opened the folder on his desk. He’d discussed the will at length with Everett Woodson, a few years ago. The lawyer said, “Are you sure, Everett, that this is what you want to do? There could be complications.” Of course, complications was what he had founded his own career on. He folded the will and placed it carefully into his soft leather portfolio. “I will, of course, carry out your instructions to the letter, if this is what you really want.”
The elderly man, in poor health, was sitting in his favorite chair. He stamped his cane with the engraved silver band, on the floor. He was a man who always, or almost always, got exactly what he wanted. The force of his personality filled the room. “Of course there will be complications! That’s the whole point, isn’t it? To stir things up? To shake things out? To start a fire that will burn out the weak wood and refine the true heartwood, so to speak. I want to give them their inheritance, but I need to know something about them. That’s why I’ve devised this little test. If they can at least show that they are capable of knowing what they want in life and making the effort to get it, that means a lot. I have no use for lazy layabouts. I’ve seen too many wealthy families that spoil their children and they come to a disgraceful end. This will be different.”
The lawyer did not allow himself to express his own skepticism. He nodded politely. “Well, I’ve made it as airtight as I know how. As litigation proof as I know how. As complete.”
Everett Woodson gave a dry laugh. “Knowing your reputation, that’s good enough for me. So you have your instructions, now. You know what to do.”
Clifton creased his brow. “It’s a lot of money, Everett. To recap briefly, by your will, a substantial amount of money will go to each one if and when they have completed the challenge, as you call it. To start, they will each get $10,000 and expenses. If they just walk away from it, I’m to give them a smaller settlement. A generous settlement, according to your wishes. But one could get so much more. So that is your will, to all intents and purposes.”
The old man nodded. “They’re my grandchildren, even if I haven’t spent much time with them.” He said, somewhat wonderingly, “I haven’t really spent any time at all, have I? How did the years go so fast?”
The lawyer went on, “But no one will know that you are looking for one person who can take over in your stead. How do you know one will stand out above the others? Don’t you think that that would create resentment?”
They’d talked about this before, but he still thought this was a flaw in his employer’s plan.
Everett Woodson’s lips curved in a smile. “It’s my money, isn’t it?.” He managed a small laugh. “I want to know what they would say if we asked them how they would manage a lot of money. Do you know, Clifton, that a lot of people just don’t want responsibility of any kind? They want a handout, somebody else to do things for them. Too many in this country now!” He stamped his cane again, his face flushing dangerously. “I’m looking for a take-charge person with a head on his or her shoulders. Not a namby-pamby. I’m hoping somebody of my own flesh and blood will want to step up and take over some day.” He took a steadying breath and paused, then went on. “ I’ll give you my guidelines. I’m hoping it will be clear enough if we have found that person.” He stopped and thought for a moment.
The lawyer poised his pen over a pad, ready to make notes. T
The old man continued, “They don’t know how wealthy I really am. And that will be quite a surprise, won’t it? At least, I hope so. This plan is just the best I can do. I want to leave my estate to blood relatives. In spite of what I say, I’ll make sure they’re taken care of. But I’m looking for the One, Clifton, the One who will me ME.” He smiled. “Maybe that’s a tall order, but I’d like to know. Even if I’ll be looking down from somewhere else. And your expenses will be covered, of course, if you can see this happens in a timely manner. When I die, you know, the clock starts ticking.” He chuckled until a fit of coughing ended it and brought a private nurse in to see what was going on.
“We’re having too much fun, aren’t we?” She cast a disapproving look at the lawyer, who was gathering up his briefcase and papers. The lawyer shook his head gently.
As he left the mansion, Clifton Montville muttered to himself, “We’re about to have a great deal more fun, one of these days. But I don’t think I’ll be laughing. I wouldn’t be surprised if this doesn’t end well. I hope the old man is really in his right mind. There’s only one of him. And he can’t be replaced. Just my opinion.”
Now he looked up at Klara, who was contemplating the heirs. “All right, Klara. Bring them in, please.”
Klara was standing in the office door, looking into the waiting room where the three people sat without talking. On the leather couch were the two sisters, Lee and Cassie, and across from them in a tweed armchair lounged their cousin Derek. Klara wasn’t surprised in any way at them. She had seen everything in her years as personal assistant to Clifton Montville, although, she admitted, that lately, it was mostly the rich and powerful who came into this office. These three looked as though they scratched a living. Unbelievable that they were the old man’s grandchildren. Or maybe not so unbelievable. Klara looked more closely at them.
Cassie perched on the edge of the sofa. Her cotton jacket was wrinkled around the pockets where it seemed that an iron had pressed it many times until the fabric became shiny and almost brittle. The dress under it was in a pattern Klara recognized from ten years ago. Her hair was limp and too long for current styles. Klara thought that intelligence lurked behind those large glasses. But the woman didn’t seem to care what she looked like. Cassie sat twisting her hands together. She stopped when she saw Klara watching her. Her sister, Lee, looked tired. Although she could have been very attractive with her curly dark hair and blue eyes, her pale skin and the well-washed faded shirt and jeans she wore seemed to make her fade into the background. She had a gentle look and when she looked up at Klara, gave a tentative smile. Derek, on the other hand, made her want to tell him to sit up straight and stop eating all the mints from the crystal bowl on the table. If she had been his Mom, which of course she was too young to be, she’d make him cut his hair and iron his clothes. Was this supposed to be a rock n’roll, edgy look? If so, it didn’t work. However, Klara knew enough to keep her opinions to herself except on the occasions when Clifton asked her for them. Then, of course, she actually told him. She knew that was one reason that Clifton valued her so highly.
She raised her voice and stepped forward into the room.
“Ladies and gentleman, please follow me.”
The sisters and Derek rose and walked behind Klara as she led the way into Clifton’s office. They seemed momentarily stunned as they took in the tall windows with their view of Boston harbor and the antique furniture that fit the space so well. Derek was eyeing the sailing ship models that sat on bookcases alternately with law books. Klara settled them in comfortable chairs in front of the large desk, asking them if they would like anything to drink. She passed around bottles of water and soft drinks on a silver tray. Then she took a seat herself discreetly in the back.
Klara watched Clifton closely as he observed the three. She couldn’t tell what he thought. He cleared his throat and began by telling them why they were there.
“I’m glad you decided to come, because I’m sure you’ll be interested in what I have to say. First, this is regarding the will of Everett Woodson. Your grandfather. Yes, Mr. Dougall?”
Derek stood up and struggled to get out the words. “That son of a bitch. I came all this way for this? He never wanted anything to do with us. What is this?”
The lawyer waved a hand. “Please, Mr Dougall. Profanity is not necessary. If you would only wait and listen to what I have to say, I would greatly appreciate it. This is my job and I need to complete it.”
Derek threw himself down into the chair again. “I’ll listen only because I realize you have to do your job, but I want nothing to do with that man. He threw my mother out and if he’d supported what she wanted to do, maybe she’d be alive today. If he wasn’t dead, I’d take a gun to him.” He subsided, out of breath. “So go on, do your thing.”
Klara suppressed a smile. The lawyer looked at Derek with some alarm as though afraid he really had a weapon concealed somewhere. He sat up straighter in his chair and went on, one hand patting the papers in front of him. “Well, Everett Woodson, as I said, your grandfather, entrusted me to communicate the terms of his will to you.”
Lee said, somewhat hesitantly, not wanting to cause another interruption, but wanting to get in her question, “Are you sure this man is our grandfather? I never knew my grandfather’s name. Our Dad never spoke about him. If he was somebody rich or something, I think we would have known.”
Klara thought, “Good question. The girl isn’t as dull as she seems.”
Clifton smiled at Lee. “I can assure you, Everett was your grandfather. We made quite sure of it as Ms Voss can attest. He was a somewhat unusual personality. He liked to keep himself away from the world, but he ran many companies from a stronghold on a large estate. I can tell you that his children probably didn’t find it easy to have him as a father. I believe that they were artistic in nature, like their mother, and Everett had no interest in art. Or anything except his business interests. Your grandmother died young and your grandfather married again. A woman who, I’m afraid, didn’t seem to get along with her stepchildren.” He looked up at them. His eyes traveled to Ms Voss who was watching him intently. He continued, “ When the two children, your parents, grew to adolescents, they both ran away. Everett was of the opinion that they’d be better off out proving themselves in the world, as he had to do when he was young. So he never tried to contact them. I think he regretted later that contact was lost. He had thought they’d come back with their tails between their legs. But they didn’t. And by his own admission, the years just went by too fast. Maybe that’s why he wanted to leave this particular will.” He paused again and looked at his audience as though expecting questions.
Lee and Cassie looked at each other. Cassie said, slowly. “I can’t believe he never even tried to find us. Even if he wasn’t a very nice person, I’d have liked to know my grandfather.”
Lee nodded. “Yes, he deprived us of that. But I suppose that’s the way he was. We have to accept it.”
Derek snorted. “I don’t have to accept anything.” He glared at Clifton. “Could you please get this over with?”
The lawyer looked at the papers on his desk. “Well, your grandfather was fairly well off when your parents lived with him, but it wasn’t until later that he made most of his money. By this will, he wanted to give you all something and also he wanted to ask something of you.” He hesitated. “Your grandfather was an unusual man.”
Derek made a rude noise but said nothing.
Clifton went on, “Klara will give each of you a check for $10,000.” He wasn’t sure of the three which one gasped, or maybe it was all of them. So this amount would be a large one for them.
He continued, “And, there’s a challenge attached.”
Derek said, “I knew it, he wouldn’t just give it away. What’s the old so and so want from us, anyway?”
Clifton said, “You have to understand the nature of the man. He was a self-made man and he believed that people shouldn’t just be given everything in life. He believed they have to earn it.”
Derek broke in again. “Yeah, like my Mom had to earn her food and clothing. He couldn’t even help her a little.”
“Yes, Mr. Dougall. I quite appreciate your point of view. If I may continue?”
“Go ahead. I don’t have to like it.”
Clifton said, “There is a prize he wants to offer you.”
Cassie couldn’t contain her reaction. She burst out, “Our grandfather wants to put us in a contest?” She sounded astonished.
“Well, it’s not like any contest you have ever experienced. With your permission, I would like to just read this to you without interruptions.” He glanced over at Derek, who stared angrily but said nothing.
He went on to read the page before him. When he had finished there was complete silence. Finally, Lee spoke.
“So, there is more money for us if we complete this contest, as you call it. And we’re not competing against each other. We’re competing with ourselves!”
Clifton said, “That is correct, Lee.”
Cassie said, “But you said the object of the contest is to set a goal to achieve one thing that we really want, in one year. And it has to be an important thing, something that is meaningful to us. How is that possible? It takes some people a lifetime. If they ever find something meaningful at all!”
Clifton said, “Well, there are actual guidelines, Cassandra. I will be giving you documentation that spells out exactly what the task entails. Basically, you have to let us know in writing what you consider your “most important goal.” Then tell us what you can expect to achieve in one year and how we can know you’ve done it. It can’t be a mere “wish” so to speak. Everett believed that people who take action are way ahead of the rest of the crowd. We realize that there are tasks that take much longer, but Everett stated that if anyone can set a goal for one year and complete it, that they are on the way to great things, or at least on the way to achieving something. Believe it or not, many people would not be able to complete this task. That was his philosophy and so I am here to carry out his wishes. Of course, you can opt not to participate. You can still take the $10,000.” Those who complete the challenge will be rewarded but I can’t tell you the details. Also, Everett had warned him not to divulge how much money was involved yet. As Everett had said, “This is the carrot. Let’s see who wants it.” A strange will, indeed, Clifton considered. Did the old man think one of these people would be able to fill his shoes? He doubted it. Everett had laid out various scenarios. Clifton was to choose which one of them fit the case. Why didn’t the old man contact his grandchildren before it was too late? Clifton didn’t relish this task but he would do it. It was his job.
Lee said, “So, if we go on this program and finish, we each collect another sum of money? You said you can’t tell us the exact amount. But it would be in addition to the $10,000. It just seems unreal.”
Clifton nodded. “I’m sorry. Your grandfather was one of a kind. This is what he wanted.”
Derek spoke, finally. “Don’t you get it, it is unreal, Lee. There’s some catch to it. Why didn’t he just give us an inheritance if he was going to? I don’t trust him for a minute, even if he is dead now.”