“You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you. I don’t know how we’re going to get around that, but we need to find a way. Let’s both take some time to think it through.” I punched the button multiple times.
“What do you know about Melanie Seaborn’s death?”
I tried not to react. Just hearing her name made me want to burst into tears. The elevator door opened, and I started to get in, but Owen grabbed my arm and held tight.
I shot him a glare. “Let go of me.”
“Not until you tell me what you know about Melanie Seaborn.”
“Let go of my arm, Owen.”
“Does Brady know?”
The elevator doors started to close. I jerked out of his hold and pushed the doors back open. After I stepped inside, I turned around to face him. “I have nothing to lose here, and you have everything to gain. Think this through.”
The doors shut, but I could still see his angry face.
He’d call me. It was only a matter of when.
Chapter 7
Brady was already sitting in his car in the parking lot when I pulled in, and the look on his face told me he wasn’t happy. I parked three spots away from him, and as soon as I put the car into park, Brady was standing next to my driver’s side window.
I rolled it down and he leaned over with an irritated look. “Where were you?”
Lifting my chin, I said in a no-nonsense tone, “I had to run an errand.”
His mouth pressed into a thin line. “I thought you were working until three.”
I gave him an unapologetic stare. “I got off early.”
“To run your errand,” he said with a blank look.
“It’s none of your business where I went or what I did. I’m here. I’m fine. Let’s do this.” I realized I ran the risk of pissing him off, but his attempts to control me were getting on my nerves. I needed to set some boundaries and hoped his concern for my safety won out.
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t press the issue. “I’ll drive you there.” He reached for my door handle, but it was locked.
I didn’t unlock the door. “How about I just follow you?”
He stared at me for several seconds. “Why don’t you want to get into the car with me?”
I groaned and rubbed my forehead. “That’s not it, Brady. We’re not together, but I would like for us to stay friends. However, that’s never going to work if I feel like you’re suffocating me.”
His jaw set and a vein began to throb in his forehead. “What part of you being in danger do you not get?”
“Then why haven’t you told anyone else in the department about my involvement?”
“I’ve already told you—”
“That someone is corrupt and you’re protecting me.” It felt even more bogus now than the first time he’d said it. “Look, Brady, I don’t want to fight with you. I’m being practical here. Aren’t you working today? What if you get called in while we’re there? I can’t tag along with you. I need my own car.”
He frowned. “You’re right. Fine. Follow me, but I’ll text you the address in case we get separated.”
* * *
An hour later, I walked out of the gun range with the gun in my purse, feeling a lot more confident about using it. Brady walked me to my car, and when I reached the driver’s side door, I glanced up at him. “I don’t have a permit. Isn’t that a problem?”
“We’re not going to worry about that right now. The important thing is that you can protect yourself,” Brady said. “If you need to use it, we’ll deal with the rest.”
“Aren’t you risking your career by doing this?”
He reached up and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I care about you, Maggie. I promised you I’d protect you. I take that seriously.”
I reached up and grabbed his hand. He’d been professional inside the gun range, so this shift caught me off guard. “You can’t do that, Brady.”
He pulled his hand loose. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I took a step away and opened my car door. “I need to go home.”
“To your apartment?”
“Brady.”
“I just need to know where you are in case you need me.”
“I’m staying at Momma’s house with Belinda.”
“And Colt.” His tone made it clear he didn’t approve.
I shot him a glare.
He lifted his hands in self-defense. “Sorry. That was out of line. I suppose I should be grateful you have two people with you.”
My cell phone began to ring as I got into the car, and I left my door open in my haste to pull it out of my purse. “I’ve got to go, Brady. Thanks for everything.”
“We still need to go out to that house, Maggie,” he said, staring at me with an intense gaze.
“Not tonight.” I didn’t recognize the number that had popped up on my caller ID. Had Owen gotten a burner? Was he calling me to accept my proposal?
Brady looked like he was about to say something, but I closed the door, answering the phone as I started the car. “Hello?”
“Magnolia Steele?” a man asked. I didn’t recognize his voice.
My heart lurched in my chest. Was this someone from the police department? “Yes?”
“This is Wilber Wimple, your mother’s estate attorney. Do you have time to stop by my office today?” I’d expected him to call me earlier, and I sure hadn’t expected to hear this much urgency in his voice.
“It’s already after four, Mr. Wimple,” I said. “Wouldn’t you rather wait until tomorrow?”
“Your brother has already called me twice today and is very . . . insistent. I’d like to read the will as soon as possible.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Reading of the will? Isn’t that something you just see in movies and on TV? I found Momma’s will on her desk.”
“That was her old will. I have her new one.”
“What? She has a new will?”
“Given the circumstances, it would be best if you could meet me at my office at five. Can you be here?”
“Uh . . . yeah,” I said.
He told me his address, which I committed to memory, and I immediately texted Belinda after we hung up.
I have a 5:00 meeting at Momma’s lawyer’s office. Roy will be there. Can you come?
She responded within seconds.
Her attorney already contacted me. I’ll see you there.
Neither of us was ready to face my brother, but at least we would be together.
Brady was next to his car, still watching me, so I gave him a tiny wave as I backed out of the parking space, trying to figure out what to do for the next forty-five minutes. I decided to go to Starbucks to get a cup of coffee and look up everything I could find on Eric Duncan.
I didn’t have my laptop, but I did have a nearly fully charged smart phone. I went inside and ordered a cappuccino, then sat at a table and typed in Eric Duncan Tennessee. Might as well start with the basics.
The first results revealed a computer science professor, a real estate agent, and a doctor. It wasn’t until the third page that I found the man I was looking for—Eric Duncan, a financial planner in Murfreesboro.
I searched for his LinkedIn account and found that he owned his own small firm with only three employees. He’d worked at a few other places over the past thirty years, and there, at the bottom of the list, he’d listed his first investment job—JS Investments, co-owner with Brian Steele and Bill James.
Staring at the photo of the man who had tried to rape my mother, I wondered what I was doing. Why was I diving down this rabbit hole? Sure, my father was lurking around and Bill James had disappeared, but my father had his precious gold. What did I care if there was a multi-million-dollar annuity? All the other players were dead. I needed to concentrate on more important things . . . like evading a serial killer. But I couldn’t deny that the two were somehow connected. But how? Was all this sleuthing really helping?
I glanced at the ti
me and saw I had ten minutes to get to the attorney’s office. Normally, it would be a five-minute drive, but I worried it might take longer with rush-hour traffic.
I pulled into Wilber Wimple’s parking lot at 5:03, and hurried into the office. The receptionist was expecting me and ushered me into a conference room down the hall. I had expected to see Belinda and Tilly sitting at the table, but to my surprise, Colt was sitting between them. Had Tilly gotten someone to cover for her and Colt for the catering job tonight? My brother sat at the end of the table, to my left—as far from the others as he could get. The look on his face told me he planned to destroy me.
An older man stood up at the opposite end of the table. “Magnolia?”
“Yes,” I said as I walked toward him with my hand extended.
“Wilber Wimple,” he said, shaking my hand with a limp grasp.
“Sorry to be late,” I said as I took a seat, sitting directly opposite Colt. “I’m still not used to traffic. It’s gotten a lot busier in Franklin since I left.”
“For God’s sake, Magnolia,” Roy snarled. “You’ve been back for a fucking month. You should know about the traffic by now.”
Belinda gasped at his curse, and Mr. Wimple tugged at the knot on his tie, clearly uncomfortable.
“Forgive my brother,” I said in an affable tone. “My mother would be horrified.”
“How the fuck would you know what would have horrified our mother?” Roy asked, his words slightly slurred. Had he been drinking? “You barely knew our mother. I was the one who stayed and helped her pick up the pieces after you left. Just like dear ole Dad.”
I looked him in the eye. “I know. And I will regret that for the rest of my life, Roy, but this is not the time or place. You’re making Mr. Wimple uncomfortable.”
Roy shot the older man a glare. “I’m sure you’ve heard plenty of family drama, Mr. Wimple. What’s one more?”
The attorney cleared his throat and gave me a strained smile as he picked up the file in front of him. “As you all know, you’re here because Lila created a new will a few weeks ago.”
I looked at him in surprise. When I’d returned to Franklin a month ago, Momma had told me that I was getting the house, something she hadn’t shared with Roy. Why had she created a new will? Presumably she’d still planned to give me the house. Just last week, she’d told me that she wanted to add me to the deed so I could skip probate. A task we hadn’t completed.
“This is preposterous,” Roy bellowed, picking up a small stack of papers in front of him and waving it at the attorney. “As I told you on the phone, I have her will right here.”
“And was that will signed two years ago?” the attorney asked.
“Yes . . .” Roy suddenly sounded less certain.
“Then it’s null and void. The will in my hand is her second, which she had drawn up after she signed that one.”
Roy’s mouth dropped open, and his hands clenched the top of the table. “Second? And what does this new will say?”
Mr. Wimple’s hand shook as he picked up the paper. “I think I need a glass of water.” With that, he got up and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I wouldn’t blame him if he ran and didn’t come back.
Roy turned to face me. “What the hell did you do, Magnolia?”
“I didn’t do anything, Roy. I swear.”
“Did you know about this new will?”
I shook my head. “No. She told me some details right after I came back, and last week she told me that she’d made arrangements for her funeral, but I had no idea there was a new will.”
Roy shifted his glare to Tilly. “What do you know, Tilly? What the fuck are you even doing here? This is for family.” He spat out the word as if it were poison.
“Tilly is family, Roy,” I said in a sound resembling a growl. I reached my hand across the table toward her, and she stretched her arm to take my hand and squeezed. “She deserves to be here just as much as you and me.”
“What about him,” Roy said, flippantly waving his hand at Colt. His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “Fucking him doesn’t make him family, Magnolia.”
Colt released a guttural sound and his face reddened. “You can take all the potshots you want at me, but leave Tilly and Magnolia out of it.”
Roy released a bitter laugh. “Who would have thought Colt Austin actually gave a fuck about anything other than himself?”
I jerked my head toward Colt and held up my hand. “I can handle this.”
“She’s already got you on a leash,” Roy said. “Colt Austin domesticated. Has hell frozen over?”
“Enough, Roy,” Belinda said in harsh rebuke. “You’re making this more difficult than it has to be.”
He turned his attention to Belinda. “My lovely wife. It’s good to be reminded of where your loyalties really lie.”
Her expression softened. “Roy . . .”
The door opened and Mr. Wimple walked back in with his glass of water. His hands were still shaking, and he looked like he would rather be at the dentist getting a root canal than sitting here facing my brother.
His receptionist followed him, a cell phone in her hand, and took a seat in a chair by the still-open door. Presumably she was there to call 911 if Roy got out of hand.
I truly hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Mr. Wimple took a big sip of his water, set the glass down on the table, and pulled various papers out of the file folder.
“What are you waiting for?” Roy demanded.
“Stop challenging him, you fool,” Tilly said. “Calm your ass down, and he’ll get started.”
Roy looked slightly chagrined as he leaned back in his chair, assuming a less predatory stance.
Mr. Wimple lifted his double chins and took a deep breath. “We’re here to read the last will and testament of Lila Mae Steele, but she’s written a letter for me to read first.”
I clasped my hands under the table. I’d stopped breathing at the word “letter,” I realized, and I forced myself to start again.
The attorney opened a sealed envelope, unfolded the papers within, and began to read. “If Wilber is reading this to you, then I’m dead. I hope I left on my own terms and that I didn’t give you too much grief in the end, although maybe a little. I’d like to think I went out with a bang instead of a whimper.”
Tears filled my eyes. It was such a Momma thing to say.
“Roy and Magnolia, I’m sorry I left you orphaned, although I think you both have figured out by now that your daddy’s not dead.”
The receptionist by the door gasped, but Mr. Wimple didn’t look all that surprised by her statement. If anything, he was more worried about our reactions. But Roy sat in his chair unfazed.
“Magnolia, I know you’re dead set on finding out the details of what happened to your daddy, but it all comes down to a simple truth: he loved you—you were the most precious thing in his life—but it wasn’t enough. It’s not your fault, girl, so don’t you accept that mantle. I learned years ago that the love he felt for me wasn’t enough either. It took me a while to let it go, but I finally did and found my happiness elsewhere. You need to find yours, Maggie. We find it in the people in our lives, not in our possessions or our accomplishments. You have people who love you dearly. Lean on them. Trust them. Let them heal your heart, because Maggie Mae, your heart has been broken time and time again, by both your father and me, and for that I’m eternally sorry. My job was to protect you, and I failed miserably. I’ll carry that guilt to my grave and beyond. But don’t you accept the guilt of thinking you weren’t enough to hold your father here. That’s his burden to carry. Not yours.”
Unshed tears made it difficult to see the table, and I was grateful I’d sat opposite the people I cared about rather than beside them. If any of the three people facing me on the other side touched me right now, I’d shatter to pieces, and at this moment, I needed total control.
“Roy,” Mr. Wimple continued. “My son. My love. My joy. My sorrow. Your f
ather claimed your sister, and I claimed you, and yet I was never enough. Your father left a void that couldn’t be filled, and for that I’m sorry too. I know why you went to work for Bill James, and you need to let it go. Your bitterness is making you unhappy, son, and it’s slowly poisoned you to the good things in life. Your anger has gotten the better of you, and you’re losing everything important to you because of it. Your father’s not worth your time and energy, Roy. The best punishment you can give him is to let him go.”
I cast a glance to my brother, whose gaze had dropped to the table. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Belinda,” Mr. Wimple read, “I’ve loved you like a daughter. I knew you lost your parents as a child, and I tried to fill that void, just as you tried to fill the void Magnolia left in my heart. We weren’t perfect, the shapes didn’t quite fit, but it was enough to ease my sorrow. I can only hope I was as much comfort and joy to you as you were to me. I hope you know that when Magnolia returned, she didn’t replace you. My heart was big enough for you both.” Mr. Wimple took a drink of water. “Thank you for welcoming Magnolia home with open arms and an open heart, even at the risk of upsetting your husband. You’re a beautiful woman, Belinda, both inside and out, and I am a better person for having known you.”
Belinda dabbed her eyes, looking down at the table.
“Colt,” Mr. Wimple read, glancing up at him then back at his paper. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here, but you’ve been an important part of my life for the last three years. The day you walked into our catering kitchen asking about a job, I looked into your eyes and knew I could trust you, even if you didn’t trust yourself.”
I glanced up at Colt. His jaw was tight and his hand clenched the side of the table. I knew what he was thinking—that he’d betrayed her trust and used her. Colt had thought the world of my mother, so I knew her uncharacteristic kind words had to be difficult for him to hear.
The next thing Mr. Wimple read surprised us all.
“But I knew what you were doing, boy. I knew the whole time.”
Colt’s eyes widened, and he looked across the table at me in shock.
Curtain Call: Magnolia Steele Mystery #4 Page 7