by Jana DeLeon
The attorney nodded. “Your sister is correct. While some of the more dramatic of Calais’s residents may find some fun in theorizing as to your hidden identity, those who partake in logical thinking will not so much as raise an eyebrow at your choices. In fact, most would assume you wise.”
Danae smiled. “You’re very refreshing, Mr. Duhon.”
“Isn’t he the best?” Alaina beamed. “Until I met him, I had no idea attorneys could be competent, nice and have a personality. I’d thought I was the only one.”
“Please call me William,” he said, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Well, ladies, we have a lot to discuss, but I can cover the basics of the inheritance now and we can meet at a later date to discuss the rest.”
Danae nodded. “I know I have to live on the property for two weeks and that Sheriff Trahan will verify my residency every day. At least, that’s what the café gossip is.”
“This time, the café gossip is correct. That was one of the things Alaina and I were discussing, among everything else.”
“Why? Have the requirements changed?”
“No, but the storm last week did a lot of damage. Much of the house no longer has power, and the heating system has failed completely. Essentially, the house has gone from barely habitable to not habitable in a matter of days.”
Danae pulled at a loose thread on the chair cushion. “So what do we do?” The thought of living in that big, scary house with limited power wasn’t anywhere on her bucket list.
William frowned. “That is a fine question. I have already hired someone to begin the repairs, but the work could take a while to complete. I assume you’d like to get this over with.”
Danae nodded.
He tapped his pen on the desk then jumped up with more speed than Danae would have thought possible for a man his age. He pulled open a drawer in the filing cabinet behind him and removed a thick folder.
He slid back into his chair and flipped through the pages, scanning and frowning as he went. Danae looked over at Alaina, but she just shrugged. Finally, he closed the document and beamed across the desk at them.
“You’re renting the cabin off Bayou Glen Drive, right?” William asked.
“Yes,” Danae replied, “but I don’t see—”
“That cabin is part of the estate,” William said. “The inheritance documents don’t specify that you must occupy the main house, so I’m to assume that if you wanted to pitch a tent somewhere on estate acreage, that would also qualify. But in your case, you merely have to remain where you are for at least another two weeks, subject to monitoring and verification by our friend the sheriff.”
“Oh!” Danae exclaimed. “Well, that’s great.”
Alaina clapped her hands. “I told you William is the best.”
The ring of a cell phone interrupted their celebration. Alaina pulled her phone out of her purse and glanced at the display.
“I’m sorry,” Alaina said. “I have to take this.”
Alaina said very little but Danae could tell by the tone of her voice that something was wrong. Her sister frowned as she slipped the phone back into her purse.
“Is everything okay?” Danae asked.
“No. My mother—the one who raised me—fell yesterday and broke her leg. My father died a couple years back, and my stepbrother and stepsister both work full-time and can’t afford to take off. They know I resigned from the firm and asked if I can stay with her for a week or so until the home health nurse is available.”
Disappointment rolled over Danae and she tried to fight it down. Of course Alaina had to go help the woman who’d raised her, but she’d been hoping for long hours to catch up with her sister—to pick her memory for glimpses of their life before their mother died. Surely Alaina, the oldest of the sisters, had memories of their childhood.
Alaina put her hand on Danae’s arm. “I’m so sorry to have to leave right now.”
“Don’t be silly,” Danae said. “We have plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere, not even after my two weeks are up.”
Alaina leaned over and hugged her before rising from her chair. “I need to book a flight and pack a bag. You gave me your cell-phone number weeks ago, so I’ll call you as soon as I get a chance and you’ll have mine. I think there’s a midmorning flight to Boston that I may be able to catch if I hurry.”
Alaina hurried around the desk to plant a kiss on a blushing William’s cheek, then rushed out of the office, closing the door behind her.
William watched Alaina, smiling, then looked at Danae after she’d gone. “She’s quite a woman, your sister. I think you two are going to get along very well.”
“I’ve liked her since the moment I met her. That’s a real relief for me. That and the fact that she wasn’t disappointed that I’m her sister.”
“Why would she be?”
“I don’t know—I mean, she’s this big-shot attorney and I’m just a café waitress. We’re hardly in the same realm.”
“You had two very different upbringings after you were stripped from your home.” He gave her a kindly look. “In my attempts to locate you, I learned some about your life in California. You’ve done well for yourself, Danae. Please don’t ever doubt that.”
She sniffed at the unexpected kindness. “Thanks.”
A movie reel of where she’d come from up to where she was now flashed through her mind, and she realized that right now was the turning point—the time where she could choose to make everything in her life different or simply fade away into obscurity again. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time.
“I can still have access to the house, right?” she asked.
“Yes, of course. It is—or will be—your property, after all. Is there anything in particular you wanted to do? Alaina made quite a dent in remodeling and cleaning. Her work in the kitchen transformed the room.”
She smiled. “I’m sure cleaning is something I could handle, but what I really want is the ability to go through the papers and pictures—see if I can find stuff about our past with our mother. I was so young...”
“And you want to remember.” William sighed. “It makes me so sad that you girls grew up without your mother. Ophelia was such a wonderful woman and her delight in you girls was apparent. Her death was a loss to the entire community but was devastating for you girls.”
He removed his glasses and rubbed them with a cleaning cloth on his desk, and Danae could tell he still felt her mother’s death. It made her both happy and sad that her mother was such a wonderful person she’d left such an impression, but then died without living her life to the fullest.
William slipped his glasses back on and cleared his throat. “It so happens that I need someone to go through the documents in the house. I haven’t been able to find anyone willing to do the work at the house, so I was going to have everything boxed up and shipped to an analyst in New Orleans. But if you’re willing to do the work, I’d be happy to pay you, instead of removing the documents.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Inventory lists, receipts—anything that gives me the ability to construct a list of property. I need to have it evaluated for tax purposes and such. So much is stuffed in the attic, closets and heaven only knows where else that it would take years to uncover it all. I hoped that the most valuable of objects would be contained on an asset listing or that the receipts would be filed with important household documents. Then I could valuate those items, assuming we locate them, and assign a base value to everything else.”
Danae could only imagine the mess that must be contained inside the massive old mansion. William definitely had his work cut out for him.
“I know you have your job at the café,” William continued, “so please don’t feel you have to accept my offer, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you the rate for the work is twenty-five dollars an hour.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s boring and dirty work, but requires concentration and attention to de
tail. The rate is standard for this sort of thing.”
Danae ran a mental budget through her head. The rate was considerably more than she made at the café, but once the job was over, what would she do? If she quit now, it would be unlikely that she could get the job back. The waitress she’d replaced six months ago had moved off to New Orleans with her boyfriend, but that relationship had ended and she was back in Calais and hoping for her old job back.
“I anticipate the work will take several months,” William said and Danae wondered if he could read her mind. “And during your two-week inheritance stint, you won’t be required to pay rent. The estate can hardly charge you for meeting the terms of the will, but the remainder of the lease has to stay in effect.”
In several months, she could easily save enough money to cover herself for more than a year. She had no debt and knew how to live on next to nothing. And maybe, if the job lasted long enough, she’d make enough to invest in the future she really wanted—to become a chef. Twenty-five an hour would go a good ways toward paying for culinary school in New Orleans.
“I think I’ll take that job,” she said.
William beamed. “Good. I’ll have my secretary draw up the paperwork.”
“Great,” she said, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake.
“You know, I haven’t located Joelle yet, but I have a solid lead and expect to find your sister before month’s end. I have no doubt I can convince her to take part in the inheritance requirements.”
Danae shook her head. “What if she’s got a family, a job...things she can’t just up and leave?”
“Yes, all those things matter, but the reality is, with you and Alaina meeting the requirements, Joelle has no risk. Taking those two weeks out of her life will leave all three of you so wealthy that you’ll never have to work again unless you choose to.”
Danae sucked in a breath. “I didn’t... I had no idea.”
“Why would you? The estate looks like it needs a bulldozer rather than a cleaning, but the reality is your mother was an incredibly wealthy woman, and even your stepfather couldn’t manage to put a dent in her accumulated fortune.”
“So once Joelle finishes her two weeks, I...”
“Have the entire world at your fingertips. Whatever you desire for a future, you’ll have the means to pursue it.” He smiled. “Unless, of course, serving coffee and incredible pie to aging attorneys and disgruntled sheriffs is where your dreams lie.”
She laughed. “You make it sound so tempting.”
“Yes, well, as much as I’d love to see that beautiful smile at Johnny’s Café, I prefer for you to have what you want most. It may take a while,” he warned, “to locate Joelle, finish up her term and then push the entire mess through Louisiana’s often frustrating legal system. But it shouldn’t take more than eighteen months, even if Joelle doesn’t fulfill her time right until the end of the year allotted.”
“Eighteen months,” Danae repeated, trying to wrap her mind around everything the attorney had told her. She’d settled in Calais hoping to find out something about her past, with the ultimate dream of locating her sisters. Her mother’s will had come as a huge surprise to her and everyone else in Calais, but the knowledge that her mother’s fortune remained intact astounded her.
Even in her wildest dreams—even after hearing about her mother’s will—she’d never imagined much would come of it. Rather, she’d thought they would inherit a run-down monstrosity of a house that would be fraught with issues and impossible to sell. But this...this was something out of a fairy tale.
William opened his desk drawer and pulled out a huge black key. “This is the key to the front door,” he said as he pushed it across the desk to her. “It’s an old locking system, but it’s well-oiled. You shouldn’t have any problems with access.”
She picked up the key, feeling the weight of the old iron in her hand, and thought about everything that single object represented. It was quite literally going to unlock the rest of her life.
“There is one other thing,” William said.
A sliver of uncertainty ran through her at the apprehension she detected in the attorney’s voice. “Yes?”
“I’m sure you heard that Amos broke his foot and will be staying with his niece here in town.”
Danae nodded. Amos was the estate’s caretaker and no less than eighty years old, hence the general run-down state of the house and grounds. Her stepfather had refused to hire additional help, and the aging caretaker had been unable to maintain it all himself.
“I’d mentioned before that I’ve hired a contractor to address the problems at the house,” William continued. “He will arrive today and will stay in Amos’s cabin. His name is Zach Sargent. He’ll need daily access to the house, but I’m going to leave it up to you whether or not you provide him with a key, as you’ll also be working inside. If you’re uncomfortable with anyone else besides myself, Alaina and the sheriff having free access, I can arrange for someone to let him in daily.”
Her gut clenched a little at the thought of a strange man who could enter the house at any time. “Actually, I can let him in and out myself,” she said. “I’m an early riser and plan on spending full-time hours working on the files.”
William nodded and pulled another key from his drawer. “This is a key to the caretaker’s cabin,” he said as he pushed it across the desk to her. “I had it stocked with basic supplies yesterday, and I’ve already made arrangements with the general store for any supplies or tools he needs.”
“Great.” At least she didn’t have to manage the supplies end of things.
“The road—not much more than a path, really—to the caretaker’s cabin is at the north end of the main house’s driveway. The path leads straight to the cabin, so there’s no chance of his getting lost. Just point him in the right direction. I’m sure he can take it from there.”
Danae nodded. “You said he’ll arrive today?”
“Probably later this afternoon.”
“That’s good,” she said as she rose, the note she’d found on her doorstep weighing heavily on her. But despite her genuine fondness for the attorney, something prevented her from mentioning the incident to him.
“I better run,” she said, before she changed her mind and blurted out everything about the note. “I need to square things away with Johnny at the café. How do I handle the work for you?”
William rose from his chair. “Start going through the paperwork—your stepfather’s office is the logical choice to begin. Put everything you think relevant for my purposes in a box and keep a log of your time. I’ll check in periodically and we’ll cut you a check every Friday, if that is all right by you. Don’t worry about the hours. The estate is happy to pay for whatever you’re willing to work.”
“That’s great.” She extended her hand and clasped his. “Thank you...for everything.”
William gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s been my pleasure.”
She smiled and walked out of his office, giving Secretary Grim a nod on her way through the lobby. After she’d slid into her car, she clenched the steering wheel with both hands, trying to process everything that had happened that morning, but her whirling mind couldn’t put it all into neat little boxes.
She’d almost slipped up in there—almost broken down and given William and Alaina more information than she would have normally. It was so unexpected for her to feel that comfortable with other people that she was surprised at herself. Granted, her sister and William seemed to be perfectly nice and straightforward, but her natural distrust of everyone had saved her more times than she could recall. Now was not the time to abandon a way of life that had worked well for her. At least, not until she knew more about Alaina and William.
She blew out a breath and backed her car out of the parking space. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t told William about the note she’d found that morning. Someone had made a lucky guess and hoped to scare her away or create drama for her. Now that she’d announced her
self and stolen their thunder, likely, they’d go away.
At least, that was what she was going to keep telling herself.
Chapter Three
It was almost three o’clock when Zach Sargent pulled into the tiny bayou town of Calais. He shook his head, still not believing his luck. Landing the repair job at the LeBeau estate was an opportunity he’d never even imagined existed, much less that he’d be the one to snag it.
Granted, most men would choose higher-paying construction jobs near the New Orleans nightlife before they’d sequester themselves deep in the swamps of Mystere Parish, but Zach wasn’t most men. Far more was at stake than a paycheck and a good time.
Somewhere inside the crumbling walls of the LeBeau estate, he hoped to find the answers to the questions his dad had left him with. Zach knew it was possible that his dad’s words had only been the ramblings of a man drugged up and near death, but something in his dad’s voice troubled him to the point that he needed to find answers.
He’d thought the words would fade after his burial, but they haunted Zach in his dreams and nagged at him while he was awake. Finally, he’d given up fighting it and started a thorough search of his dad’s records from the time his dad had spoken of. It had only taken a couple of days to come across the entry in his checkbook that had made Zach’s breath catch in his throat. A twenty-thousand-dollar deposit with no explanation noted.
What had his dad done?
What had he regretted so much that he’d laid on his son a garbled confession of some wrongdoing?
Zach had spent many hours since discovering the unexplained deposit trying to imagine what his dad’s secret could be. His father had been an honorable man, a good man, raising Zach alone after his mother passed when he was only eight. Zach simply couldn’t wrap his mind around his dad doing something so horrible that he felt he had to make it right before he died.
If only he’d spoken to Zach before that last stroke, before his speech was so impaired and before he was so drugged that he couldn’t maintain a semblance of coherence. But all of that was wishful thinking and a waste of time.