SEVEN
“I can’t say I’m totally surprised,” I said slowly. “Does he have legal grounds to succeed with this suit?”
“No,” Sean said. “I found a copy of the original agreement between your grandfather and Mr. Hale in the files here. My father-in-law was meticulous in everything, and I doubt young Hale could come up with convincing grounds to break the agreement.”
“Did the elder Mr. Hale leave a will? You mentioned that he handed over something to you?”
“It was a holograph will, witnessed by two men,” Sean said. “It was simple, leaving everything which Hale owned to his heirs.”
“Since he didn’t own the property or the house,” I said, “he couldn’t leave them to anyone.”
“Exactly,” Sean said. “I explained that to young Mr. Hale, but he didn’t want to hear it. He evidently needs money, and he wants to be able to sell the property.” He paused. “He seems to be a very determined guy.”
“How old is he?”
Sean expelled a breath into the phone. “Early thirties, I’d say. Nice-looking but scruffy, wearing clothes that look pretty shabby. I think he’s an addict of some kind. He’s nervous, can’t keep still.”
“That’s not good,” I said. “If he’s desperate, no telling what he might try if he’s in need of a fix.”
“I agree. I’ve told Kanesha about him, and the sheriff’s department is going to keep an eye on him as long as he remains in the area.”
“Do you think there’s a lawyer in town who’ll take his case?”
“Most of them won’t touch it,” Sean said wryly, “because of my father-in-law’s reputation. They know it would be a lost cause.”
Q. C. Pendergrast had been known as one of the finest lawyers in the state of Mississippi, highly respected for his legal acumen and his staunch integrity.
“Still,” Sean went on, “there are a couple of ethically challenged operators here who might be willing to take the case.” He laughed suddenly. “I almost hope they do. I mentioned it to Alex a few minutes ago, and she says she wants to be the one to go to court if the case comes to pass.”
Alexandra Pendergrast Harris, my daughter-in-law, could be as formidable in court as her late father had been, I knew. She wouldn’t take lightly to someone attempting to overturn her father’s work.
I chuckled. “I’ll be in court to watch her, if it comes to that.”
“I don’t think it will get that far,” Sean said. “Any lawyer worth his or her beans should be able to see that from the signed agreement. I gave you only the most important points this morning. It’s incredibly detailed, and it’s pretty ironclad as far as I can see.”
I trusted my son and his legal know-how. I’d put him up against any lawyer in town, in the state, even.
“As long as I’ve got you on the phone,” Sean continued, “there’s more business to discuss. The farmland. Mr. Hale retired from farming about ten years ago, and even before then he was subleasing most of the land to a couple of other farmers. This is covered in the agreement your grandfather signed, so that’s all fine. With Hale’s death, however, those agreements are revoked.”
“I had wondered about that since I’d read online he had retired. I don’t know anything about farming,” I said, “and at this point I’m too old to learn, even if I wanted to.”
“Precisely my thinking,” Sean replied. “With your permission I will talk to the two farmers and inform them of the situation. If you have no objection, I’ll talk to them about continuance of their leases. I will of course make sure that the terms are favorable for all parties concerned.”
“I have complete faith in you,” I said. “You have my permission to go ahead.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Sean said. “This will take some time to settle, naturally, but I see no reason to stop these men from continuing to work the leased land.”
“I agree. You do whatever you think best.”
“And while I talk to them, I’ll try to find out whether they know anything about those bones in the attic.” He sounded smug.
“Do you think Kanesha will approve of your doing that?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Sean chuckled. “I’m going to take the lead from how you do things and ask anyway. Talk to you later, Dad.” He ended the call before I could respond.
I was tempted to call him right back and scold him the way he had scolded me in the past for my interference, as he labeled it. I knew it was pointless, however, and I didn’t call back.
A sudden loud crash of thunder startled me, and I glanced out the den window to see that the sky had turned dark. Then came a flash of lightning, and I quickly powered down my computer and got up from my desk. I went over to the window for a better view of the weather conditions.
Sheets of rain pelted down, and I heard more thunder, followed in seconds by flashes of lightning. I moved away from the window. Ramses and Diesel, made jumpy by the loud sounds, had disappeared from view. I headed for the hallway, calling them as I went. “Come on, boys, it’s okay.”
The scrabbling of claws against the wood floor alerted me to the cats’ presence behind me. I hurried into the kitchen to check on Azalea, who I knew disliked storms even more than I did. I also wanted to retrieve the weather radio. We never knew when storms like this might spawn heavy winds or even a tornado, and it paid to be prepared.
In the inside corner of the room, Azalea had the weather radio on, and I paused a few steps inside the kitchen to listen to the broadcast. Diesel and Ramses huddled by my legs as the thunder sounded again. Azalea turned up the volume, and we heard the announcement that the storm was traveling at a rate of fifteen miles an hour and would soon pass through the area. High winds were to be expected, but there were no signs so far of tornadic activity according to the weather radar.
“That’s a relief,” I said, and moved farther into the room toward Azalea, careful to stay away from the windows.
Azalea nodded. “Yes, thank the Lord.” Her eyes closed, and her lips moved in what I knew was a silent prayer. I waited quietly until she’d finished, mentally adding words of my own to hers.
I pulled chairs from the table, and we sat with Diesel by my feet and Ramses curled up in Azalea’s lap until the storm passed. Probably a matter of no more than fifteen minutes, but it seemed far longer as we listened to the wind and the rain lashing the house. When the wind and rain ceased, I got up from my chair and stretched. Diesel rubbed against my legs and meowed. Ramses climbed down and meowed along with his big brother.
I went to the window and looked out into the side yard. I spotted a few twigs and numerous leaves, but no large branches. “I’m going to take a look around,” I said to Azalea.
After a circuit of the house, as I squelched through the sodden yard in my rubber boots, I was happy to see that there had been no hail to damage the roof. No large limbs, simply more twigs and leaves. Once the ground had dried, I could easily rake everything up in half an hour.
I remembered my grandfather’s house—now my house, I reminded myself—and I wondered if there had been any damage there. So many trees, so much more opportunity for harm. I figured that the sheriff’s department officers were there when the storm came through, and if they saw any significant damage, they would surely notify Sean.
Had the storm delayed the deployment of the cadaver dog? I thought it probably had, at least until the bad weather moved on. I was anxious to know where the bones had lain before someone unceremoniously dumped them in the attic.
Diesel started chattering the moment I came in the kitchen door, telling me in no uncertain terms that he hadn’t appreciated being left inside. I patted his head and told him he should be thanking me for keeping his feet dry. Then, boots off and stowed away in the utility room, I gave Azalea the good news about the lack of damage.
“Thank the Lord,” Azalea replied. “We are blessed. I called my ne
ighbor, and she said the same thing about my house.”
My phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket. Sean responded quickly to my hello. “I just got off the phone with Kanesha,” he said. “They had to take shelter in the house when the storm blew up. No damage to the house, but several trees are down nearby, including one over the driveway by that thing she said is a cattle gap. They’re stuck there at the moment until they can get the tree moved.”
“No vehicles damaged?” I asked.
“Not that she mentioned,” Sean replied. “The forensic anthropologist didn’t make it because of the storm. They’re going to try tomorrow instead. Forecast calls for clear skies all day.”
“That’s good,” I said. “Look, I changed my mind about being there while the cadaver dog is working. Can you talk to Kanesha about it for me?”
“I will,” Sean said. “I’d already got her to agree to let me be there to observe on your behalf, so I don’t see why she would object to your presence.”
Other than plain orneriness, I thought.
“If she does object, I won’t push the matter,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed. “It’s probably more important that you’re there to observe anyway, since you’re the legal mastermind.”
“Perry Mason on the job.” Sean laughed. “Let me give Kanesha a call now, and I’ll get back to you.”
I thanked him and ended the call. I shared the news of the downed trees at the farm with Azalea, and she once again expressed her thanks to the Lord that no one was hurt.
“Let’s go back to the den, boys,” I said to the cats, and they followed me out of the kitchen.
We met Stewart coming down the stairs with Dante at his heels. The moment he spotted Diesel and Ramses, however, the little poodle scampered down as fast as he could and launched himself at Ramses. The two tussled right under my feet, and I had to grab the banister to keep from tripping over them. Diesel hissed at them, trying to bat them apart.
Stewart called out a sharp command to his dog. Dante ignored him. I clapped my hands loudly over the scuffling animals, and that caught their attention. They hadn’t been fighting, only playing, but the yipping and growling noises were a bit much.
Stewart picked up Dante and cradled him in one arm. Ramses sat licking a paw, as innocently as if he and Dante hadn’t been roughhousing. I laughed.
“That was a nasty storm while it lasted,” Stewart said. “Any damage? I couldn’t see any out of our windows on the third floor.”
“Just some twigs and leaves blown loose,” I said. “There was some damage on my grandfather’s property.” I shared with him the news Sean gave me.
“The county will soon have that tree out of the way. Nobody wants to get on Kanesha’s bad side.” Stewart laughed.
“I certainly don’t,” I said. “We were going to the den. Want to join us?”
“I will in a few,” Stewart said. “I’m going to let Dante out in the backyard for a quick wee first.”
“Okay.” I moved down the hall to the den, aware that Diesel and Ramses had followed Stewart and Dante. I knew Stewart wouldn’t let them out in the yard. Diesel didn’t like getting his paws wet, nor did Ramses. Dante was every bit as finicky, so I wished Stewart luck in getting the dog to pee.
I settled into my recliner in the den and waited for Stewart and the beasties to join me. I closed my eyes for a moment, and I must have dozed off. Next thing I knew, a hand on my shoulder shook me gently, and I heard Stewart saying, “Charlie, wake up. Your phone is ringing.”
I stared at him for a moment before his words sank in. I pulled my phone out and answered. “I’m here.”
“Yes, I know that,” Sean said, sounding stressed. “Listen, Dad, something freaky has happened out at the farm.”
Now wide-awake, I said quickly, “Was someone hurt after all?”
“Worse,” Sean said. “Martin Hale is dead.”
EIGHT
“He’s already dead,” I said, confused.
“Not the old man,” Sean said, biting off the words. “The grandson. One of Kanesha’s officers found him on the edge of the woods, under a fallen tree.”
“Oh my Lord,” I said. “What was he doing out there in a storm?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sean said. “Maybe he was camping out there. He told me he’d had to borrow money to come here to see about his grandfather’s property. Maybe he didn’t have the money for a hotel room. I don’t think he had any family here to take him in. At least that he’d have felt comfortable asking, I suppose.”
“That’s terrible,” I said. “He could have stayed here, if I’d known he had nowhere to go.”
“That’s just like you, Dad. I don’t think you’d have wanted him in the house, though, as jittery as he was. I wouldn’t have trusted him, frankly.”
“No point in judging him now,” I said, still feeling sad and a little guilty about the young man’s tragic death.
“No,” Sean said, his tone finally softened. “Kanesha will be getting in touch with his family in California. I don’t know whether anyone there will want to pursue the suit he intended to bring.”
“We can face that if it happens,” I said.
“Right,” Sean replied. “Gotta go now.” He rang off.
I put my phone away, the shock only slowly beginning to fade. I had forgotten Stewart’s presence until he spoke and reminded me.
“Sounds like something bad happened,” he said.
I nodded and shared what Sean had called to tell me.
Stewart frowned. “I wonder if Haskell has said anything to Kanesha about his relationship with the Hale family.”
“Don’t you think she’d know about it already?” I asked. “She must know about the backgrounds of everyone on her team. Haskell wouldn’t have any reason to hide that from her, would he?”
“His family is pretty odd when it comes to that connection,” Stewart said. “I think the whole thing’s on the bizarre side. Every family has skeletons they’d rather keep hidden, but I don’t get why this one is such a big deal.”
I agreed with Stewart, but it was Haskell’s family, and if they didn’t want to acknowledge the connection, there wasn’t much we could do about it. I was itching to ask Haskell about his aunt, though, and now that a cousin of his had been killed, it somehow seemed important to me to get to the bottom of this odd mystery.
Stewart voiced my thoughts. “Surely now he’s got to talk about it, at least to his boss.”
“Let’s hope he does,” I said. “I feel so bad for the young man. Sean thinks he might have been camping in the woods because he didn’t have the money for a hotel room.”
“When the storm came up, why didn’t he run to the house and ask for shelter?” Stewart asked. “They would have let him in. That doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Sean thinks he was an addict of some kind,” I said. “He might have been in no condition to think rationally.”
“True,” Stewart said. “If he was really in need of a fix, he wouldn’t have been thinking clearly.” He gazed at me for a moment. “This wasn’t your problem, Charlie. I know you feel bad about this young man, but he wasn’t in any way your responsibility.”
“I know,” I said, a touch of regret in my tone. “I can’t help feeling sorry for him, all the same.”
Stewart smiled. “That’s why you’re such a good man. You have a deep well of compassion, more than anyone I’ve ever known.”
I felt my face redden in embarrassment. Moments like this always threw me a little. I think I managed to mumble a hasty thank you.
Mercifully for my composure, Stewart changed the subject. “What are you going to do with the house, once everything is settled?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s part of my family history, one that I thought was lost and gone. It’s going to take some time to figure it all
out.”
“I can’t see you and Helen Louise moving out to the country,” Stewart said.
Diesel chose that moment to meow loudly, and that caused Ramses and Dante to join in.
Stewart laughed. “I don’t think Diesel wants to move, and I know Dante doesn’t, either.”
“Helen Louise also doesn’t want to move,” I said, somewhat morosely.
“Still no decision on where you’ll live,” Stewart said, his tone noncommittal. “And no wedding date.”
“No to both statements,” I said. “We’re at a standstill, and I’m not sure what the next step is.”
Diesel sat up on his hind legs and patted my arm. I rubbed his head, and he purred. I knew he had sensed my disquiet over this dilemma between Helen Louise and me.
“No need to rush to a decision,” Stewart said. “You’ve got this situation to deal with. Let the other matters lie fallow for now.”
“That’s all I can do,” I said. Suddenly I recalled that I had some good news to share. “Guess who’s having a baby?”
Stewart’s double take amused me. “Surely not Helen Louise?”
I laughed. “No, of course not. Laura and Frank.”
“That’s wonderful,” Stewart said. “When’s it due?”
“About seven months, Laura said.”
“I bet they’re hoping for a girl,” Stewart said.
“They are,” I replied, “but as long as the baby’s healthy, nothing else matters.”
My phone buzzed to alert me to an incoming text message. “From Laura,” I announced to Stewart. “Her ears must have been burning.” I peered at the screen. “She wants to tell Helen Louise herself once Helen Louise is home, so I have to remember not to let anything slip when I talk to her.”
I texted back to assure her I’d keep quiet, and she thanked me. I put my phone away again. The text from Laura reminded me that I needed to concentrate on the good news and not fret so much about the bad news over which I had no control whatsoever. Cheered by this thought, I smiled.
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