Sitting on a Fortune

by Becki Willis

  “Speaking of Monopoly, when are you scheduled to go back to Marvin Gardens?”

  “Monday. I don’t think it will take me but one more day. Two, at the most. All in all, it’s been a pretty easy job.”

  “No encounters with your neighbor?”

  “Uhm, neighbor?”

  “Surely you’ve noticed you’re working next door to the Gold and Silver Exchange.”

  “Of course I’ve noticed.”

  “And since you’re avoiding my question, I take it you’ve seen Lamont.”

  “Maybe once, on our way to the parking lot,” she admitted.

  “You’ve only worked there twice.”

  “So, it could have been worse. I could have seen him going in and out, so a total of four times. One out of four ain’t bad,” she quipped.

  “What were you doing with Miss Juliet’s journal? I saw it in the kitchen earlier.”

  There was a reason the man was an excellent lawman and investigator, and an excellent football coach before that. He missed nothing. Madison decided she was tired of hiding so many secrets from her husband and decided to go with a partial truth.

  “Someone told me something I found hard to believe, but it turned out to be true. I was curious if Miss Juliet ever mentioned it in her journals. Have you ever heard of Executive Order 6102?”

  “Is that the one where the government confiscated all the gold so they could manipulate the economy?”

  “Does everyone know about this but me? Yes, that’s the one. I had never heard of it before Mr. Pruett went on a rant in front of poor Latricia Jefferson the other day.”

  “I saw the girl was working there after school now.”

  “She and Jamal are a couple, so that’s why they’re not here tonight, hooting it up with the others in there. The poor girl looked confused by Mr. Pruett’s ramblings. But then again, he has that effect on most everybody.”

  Brash nodded in agreement. “I caught the tail end of something about Nazi and Japanese warplanes the other day. I think he was really confused, thinking the year was 1941.”

  “I don’t even know if he was born then. He has one of those colorless complexions that makes it impossible to guess his age.”

  “I’m not sure about his next of kin, but I think it’s time someone intervened. The man needs to be in a home. He’s not stable.”

  “You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?”

  “Only to himself and those within earshot of his ramblings,” Brash assured her.

  “You have to feel sorry for him, though. All alone, with just his crazy stories to amuse himself.”

  When a loud burst of laughter rattled from the other room, Brash grinned. “They’re really having a good time in there. I have to drive Danni Jo home after this, so wine is out of the question, but why don’t we have a glass of sweet tea out on the front porch swing? They won’t even know we’ve stepped out.”

  “Good idea. I’ll make the tea and meet you out there.”

  “I can get it.”

  “Nope. I’ll make a sweep through the family room on the way, pretending to refill the chips.”

  “Hey, if there’s any of Beth’s dip left, bring me a little bowl. I think we have a budding chef on our hands.”

  Madison laughed, giving credit where credit was due. “Thanks to Genny. She’s taught Bethani well. We all know who the real culinary genius is in the family.”

  “You do remember the two of you aren’t blood related, right? I know the twins claim to inherit their blue eyes and blond hair from their Aunt Genny, but genetically speaking, that’s not possible.”

  With a wide smile that he swore looked just like her best friend’s, Madison shrugged. “What’s blood and genetics have to do with family?” She dropped a kiss on his nose. “I’ll be right back.”

  Once she settled on the front porch swing amid colorful cushions and the crook of her husband’s arm, Madison dared broach the subject of gold again.

  “I keep thinking about that executive order. You don’t suppose anyone here in The Sisters hid any of their gold to keep it out of government control, do you?”

  “First, I’m not sure if there were many people around here who owned any gold. The Randolph sisters, maybe, if Daddy Bertram bothered with any commodity other than cotton and cattle. That’s where his fortunes laid. I don’t think Naomi was bankrolling her son-in-law at that time, so not even the Redmonds had much to spare. There may have been a few other well-to-do families, but even if they had gold, they probably would have turned it in. Which is my second point. There was a stiff fine and threats of prison if people were found hoarding gold. Most people needed the paper money they got in exchange. I doubt there were any serious hoarders here.” He took a long draw of tea before adding with a shrug, “Then again, you never know.”

  They sat in contented silence, until Madison commented, “Town seems busy tonight. There’s been more cars than usual passing the house.”

  “That black car has made several laps around the block. Eight, so far.”

  Madison sat up, away from the warm cocoon of his arm. “Black car? Where?”

  “It went by just before you said that. I imagine it will come back around in a few minutes.”

  “Do you recognize it?”

  “Not off hand.”

  “Do you think it’s just kids, riding around on a Friday night?” She tried to sound casual.

  “Could be, although most teenagers try to avoid making laps around the chief of police’s house. Especially when he’s sitting on the front porch watching them.”

  “Maybe it’s someone who wanted to come to the kids’ party.”

  “Non-party,” he corrected with a crooked smile. “Blake was very clear that this was not a party. Now, sit back and relax, and tell me why the black car makes you so nervous.”

  “Who said it made me nervous?”

  He gave her his trademark imperial smirk, the one known to make criminals spill all their secrets.

  “Okay, okay. I saw one hanging around Granny Bert’s earlier today. It seemed a little suspicious, especially since there was also an unknown woman trying to peek in her windows.”

  A concerned frown drew his dark brows together. “I’ve heard there’s been a scam going around Riverton and some of the other nearby towns. Someone comes to the door, pretending to be with the utility company, or a lawn service, and or something that draws the homeowner outside. While one person keeps the homeowner distracted, their partner goes in and takes whatever they can carry out. They like to prey on single women, especially widows, and older citizens.”

  “That’s terrible! I don’t think Granny Bert would fall for a stunt like that, though.”

  “What did she do about the woman today? We didn’t have any calls concerning a suspicious person.”

  “I asked her why she didn’t call the law, and she seemed insulted. She took care of it herself by turning the sprinkler on. Granny didn’t recognize the woman, but she said she was quite the runner!”

  They both laughed at the visual and Granny Bert’s quick thinking.

  When the black vehicle came back around, a ripple of apprehension moved through Madison’s shoulders. “I think I’m ready to go in now,” she said, no longer enjoying their time on the swing.

  “I think I might take a little cruise around town, myself.”

  While Brash was gone, Madison took out the journal and read.

  There were entries she hadn’t noticed before. Reading details about Darwin’s love for medicine and his desire to help those less fortunate, she saw the young physician through a different lens. Even if it were rose colored and distorted by Juliet’s undying love for her husband, it gave Madison a glimpse into the man’s goals and ambitions. He wanted to make a difference in the world. He wanted to heal the sick and teach preventative medicine. He was a visionary for his time. It seemed truly a shame that his life ended so soon.

  A few ambiguous entries piqued her curiosity. More references to his gol
den life and golden ambitions.

  If my beloved Darwin had lived, we would perhaps be halfway across the world by now. Darwin had a golden vision of sharing his wisdom and talents with others. He wanted to heal the sick from all walks of life, all countries. We knew such a dream would come at a cost, but we were prepared to make sacrifices. Darwin set aside his inheritance to make his dream a reality. But, alas. Fate intervened, and our reality changed. Without the brilliant man and his sparkling vision, what did his golden inheritance matter? What does anything matter after that fateful day?

  “Does she use those words literally, or figuratively?” Madison wondered aloud. “Did she forfeit his inheritance after that?”

  There were a handful of similar entries, leaving Madison as confused as ever.

  She leafed through the pages, looking for some reference to the new law forbidding the hoarding of gold. If Darwin’s inheritance had been in the form of gold, how would Juliet have responded? Would she have kept the nuggets regardless of the order, ignoring the threat of fine and imprisonment for the sake of sentimentality? Or would she have complied, thinking his inheritance was pointless without the man?

  Would Madison ever know the truth, or would it forever remain a mystery of how that gold came to be in the chair?

  “Maybe I should just put them back and cover them up, once and for all!” she decided in exasperation. “Upholster right over them and leave them for the next person to find. A half-million-dollar time capsule for the next lucky finder.” She shut the journal with more gusto than required. “Easy come, easy go.”

  But even as she made the brave proclamation, Madison knew she would never give up so easily.

  She was too naturally curious—okay, too nosy, if she were being honest with herself—not to find the truth. The not knowing would drive her insane.

  Plus, Granny Bert would never allow her to quit.

  Like it or not, she knew the answers were out there. She just had to find them.

  Twenty

  When the delivery service dropped the package off at New Beginnings, the driver had no idea the importance of what was inside.

  Genny saw the uniformed driver hand the box off to her employee. One glimpse of the box marked with the ‘Overnight’ status, and her eyes lit up. It took great restraint not to turn away in the middle of Tom Pruett’s explanation of how unmanned military drones operated. Even greater restraint not to take off running and rip the package from Louise’s unsuspecting hands.

  Her blue gaze kept darting to the package, even as Mr. Pruett carried on about drones. She listened for all of ten seconds, hoping for a stopping point in the story. He had to take a breath at some point.

  Or not. Unable to take it another moment, Genny interrupted him mid-sentence.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Pruett. But I see a package just arrived, and it’s one I’ve been waiting on. I really do need to attend to this. Would you like me to send someone over with fresh coffee?”

  “No, no. I’ve had my limit for the day. Too much caffeine isn’t good for my training, you know.”

  Genny wasn’t about to take the bait. She didn’t dare ask what kind of training, knowing it would result in a long, bloated explanation. She made no comment at all, simply turned away and made a direct line to the front register. She didn’t stop to linger when other customers turned her way in expectation, hoping to catch her eye and congratulate her on another fine meal. She murmured only a polite hello to those who spoke to her.

  Louise had walked off and left the package on the counter. Unattended! As if its contents didn’t have the power to change Genny’s life forever. As if what snuggled inside couldn’t determine the course of her and Cutter’s new marriage.

  They had only been wed since Valentine’s Day. Less than a dozen short but blissful weeks. Most people wouldn’t understand their decision, but it was theirs to make, wasn’t it? This matter wasn’t up for public debate or public ridicule. This was private.

  That’s why she couldn’t very well march into any of the local stores and buy an over-the-counter pregnancy test. News of her purchase would be all over town before she even got home. Speculation would run rampant. Had she been pregnant when they said, ‘I do?’ Was that why the most handsome and eligible bachelor in town, thirty-two-year-old volunteer fireman Cutter Montgomery, had married the forty-year-old chef? Everyone knew he had a weakness for her apple turnovers, but why would a man like him want to be saddled with a woman like her? She had more curves and padding than most fashion models combined. Wagging tongues would twist the facts of their surprise courtship and taint it with vicious rumors, all before she had a chance to take the test! That’s why she had to order the test off the internet and have it shipped overnight.

  By the time Genny reached the overnighted box left so casually on the edge of the counter, she had worked herself into a frenzy. She snatched up the box and hugged it to her chest, needing to protect the precious white stick inside and the hope it held for her and her husband. Without meeting the eyes of any of her patrons or employees, Genny cradled the box to her and all but ran to her office. She didn’t care what people thought or who was watching. She needed to be alone when she opened the package and saw for herself that the test had arrived safe and undamaged.

  In truth, most of the diners weren’t watching. They had no idea of the magnitude of the moment, or how Genny’s heart had stuttered in her chest the moment the delivery driver stepped through the door. They were caught up in their conversations and their meals. Many were contemplating which one of Genny’s fabulous desserts they would try after they polished their plates.

  The woman at the table next to Tom Pruett caught his eye and smiled. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” she said. “What kind of training are you doing, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not at all, not at all.” The man loved any opportunity to talk about himself. “I’m doing continued training to keep my service certificate active. The doctor doesn’t want me consuming too much caffeine.”

  “Oh? What kind of service?”

  Tom Pruett darted his eyes around with caution, seeing who listened to their conversation. The man two tables over pretended interest in the menu, but Pruett had seen the way the man glanced his way earlier. He obviously had Pruett under surveillance.

  “The kind I can’t speak to at the moment,” Pruett replied in an important-sounding voice. “Suffice it to say, I know my duty and am able to perform the tasks required of me.”

  The woman looked a bit confused, but she nodded in acceptance. Instead of escaping conversation with the older man like most people did, she encouraged him to keep talking. “Are you still collecting stamps?” she asked. “The last time we spoke, you were telling me about some of your rare finds.”

  “Er… yes.” He barely missed a beat before brightening and picking up the conversation with enthusiasm. “Yes, I still dabble in rare stamps and coins. I’ve amassed quite an extensive collection through the years. Just last week, I picked up a nice little 1923 two-dollar Capitol US stamp. I had been looking for it for quite some time and ran across it in the most unlikely of places.”

  The woman nodded with real interest. “That sounds fascinating. How much is something like that worth?”

  Pruett rattled on about the pricing structure for stamps like the ‘23 Capitol, comparing them to similar finds. He kept an eye on the man at the other table, knowing he still listened in. The chump wouldn’t discover any national threats by eavesdropping on this conversation. Tom Pruett prided himself on being a trained professional. He wouldn’t make a mindless slip that could compromise the security of his beloved nation.

  “Why don’t you join me?” Pruett offered, indicating the chair across from him. Their conversation would be more private that way and less likely to reach the ears of the spy two tables over.

  “You wouldn’t mind?” the woman all but gushed. “I would be delighted!”

  Pruett shuffled from his chair to assist in s
eating her at his table. He pulled the chair a bit closer to his, so they wouldn’t have to talk as loudly.

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about your jewel collection.” As soon as she took her seat, the woman continued their conversation. “Some of your designs sound fascinating! Is it difficult to make jewelry? I’m afraid I don’t know the first thing about fashioning fine gems and metals into fashion statements.”

  Pruett was more than happy to tell her about his hobby. He soon forgot about the man from the other table and his suspicions of being under surveillance. He had the rare and undivided attention of a rapt audience. It didn’t hurt that his audience of one happened to be an attractive woman. She was too young for him, of course, but it was gratifying to know that someone appreciated his eye for detail and his voracious appetite for collecting. He was interested in all manner of arts and collectibles. He hadn’t even told her about his music collection yet, even though he didn’t recall seeing it lately. Where had he put those old 45s? It escaped him now, but she was asking about jewels, and those, he remembered.

  “And you just keep an assortment on hand, waiting for inspiration to hit you?” she questioned in awe. “Why, that must be so expensive!”

  “It’s difficult to put a price on art, you understand. Even more difficult to put a price on personal satisfaction. I find great pleasure in working with my hands and crafting unique pieces. If it means the cost of keeping a few diamonds and sapphires on hand, it’s a price I will gladly pay.”

  The woman sat back with a look of fascination on her face. “You have led such a fascinating life! I can’t imagine seeing the things you’ve seen, traveling to all those countries and being involved in so many different projects and assignments. And to think, you live right here in our humble little community.”

  “Traveling as much as I have, you learn to appreciate the simple things in life,” Tom Pruett assured her.

  “I would love to see your collections some time! You should open a museum. Do you… Do you suppose I might come by some time? Would you consider showing me at least part of all you’ve collected through the years?”