I appealed to him, “Don’t family members usually participate in the planning?”
But he was very clear; Tucker Davis’ approval was the most important thing to him.
I took a deep breath. Later, our family would create a lasting tribute to Elizabeth showing how much we had loved and respected her, and how we would deeply miss her. But for now, this would have to do, I guess.
I glanced up and saw a man who looked to be in his 60’s walking to the podium. He was well-worn, beer-gutted with dirty looking grey hair, and dressed in jean shorts and a tropical shirt that looked as though he’d worn them for several days.
“Hey, everyone,” he said into the microphone. “My name is…” he paused, “well, all my friends call me Quattro.” He held up both of his hands in a two-handed friendly wave.
He was missing his middle finger on his right hand and his thumb on his left hand. Brad and I glanced at one another and laughed. I mouthed “Quattro” at him and waved four fingers. He turned away, biting his lip.
“I told Dickie I’d speak first because he worried no one would come up and say anything and it wouldn’t look right. I told him don’t worry so much.” Quattro slowly scanned the crowd. “I reassured him there were a few people here who could think of something nice to say.” He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp.
“Elizabeth was a great old broad. Too damn bad, she died so young. She seemed young to me. Hell, I’m only a few years younger. You know she checked out in her sleep, and in her own bed. How much better does it get than that?”
I looked around. A few people were nodding their heads in agreement.
“Now that she’s kicked the bucket…” He paused. “Well, everyone knows there’s no bucket involved.” He laughed at his own humor. “Have you ever wondered what the reward is?” He waited as though he expected an answer. “Hmm, I’ve no idea either. Damn, it’s hot in here. You’d think a funeral place would turn on the air conditioning.”
“Yeah, I’ve got sweat in my shorts,” I heard someone say. A few others voiced their agreement.
“Keeps the smell down and all,” Quattro continued. “I know when it was a drive-thru the air worked good and sometimes the place was downright freezing.”
I saw a few people sniffing at the air. Were they sad? Or were they disappointed they couldn’t smell hotdogs and fries?
Dickie Vanderbilt stood off to the side, staring at his shoes, and picking at his rather large tie tack in the shape of a flamingo.
“But back to Elizabeth. I called her Betty once and, boy, she got mad.”
Mother sobbed loudly, which I knew was actually laughter. People turned to stare. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Mother, please. This funeral is bad enough.”
Her body shook with laughter. I gripped her tightly. “Oww,” she whispered.
“Behave yourself, or I’ll keep squeezing.” I shifted again on the bench, having a hard time sitting still when my legs kept sticking to the wood.
“Elizabeth was good to a lot of people,” Quattro continued. “Too bad she won’t be around to do any of us any more favors.” He looked around and rubbed the end of his nose.
I stared wide-eyed at him wondering if he was about to pick his nose.
“The truth is, I’ve run out of stuff to say. I know she wouldn’t have wanted to die so soon, but the problem is we all think we’re going to live forever, and we don’t. So, ‘God Bless’.” He waved and walked away from the podium.
Brad and I looked at one another. “Finally,” he mouthed, even though he was enjoying the circus more than I was.
I didn’t have to wait long to see what would happen next. An elderly woman who seemed very familiar approached the podium. Mr. Vanderbilt walked over and helped her up the stairs. Now what?
Brad motioned to me, “Miss January,” he whispered.
“No,” I said, shocked at how drastically her appearance had changed.
Miss January was a frail-looking woman, who appeared to be in her eighties, of average height and no more than ninety pounds. In truth, she was only in her forties. Twenty years ago, her husband had been shot to death in front of her and, after that, she’d dedicated her life to a daily bottle of vodka and chain-smoking. Two years ago, she was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer for which she refused treatment. Her doctor told her she would die any day, but she just laughed at him. Elizabeth cared about Miss January because she wasn’t capable of caring about herself.
“I liked Elizabeth,” Miss January started. She fiddled with the microphone; she blew into it, thoroughly entertaining herself. “You know, I’m drunk!” she yelled. “I drank more than usual this morning, toasting Elizabeth over and over. What the hell! I drink every morning.”
I covered my face with my hands.
“Elizabeth wasn’t much of a drinker,” Miss January continued. “I like vodka,” she giggled. “She was always,” she paused, “I mean Elizabeth, would pull me out of the bushes and help me home. At least I think it was her. Some of the time, anyway. That young hottie who lives next door to me at The Cottages, sometimes he picks me up and carries me home. I like that a lot.”
Someone let out a loud burp. Another person clapped. I sat motionless, afraid to look around.
“You need a chair up here!” she yelled. “When the guy from before said it’s hot in this place, he was right. Besides, who wants to stand, anyway?” She swayed from side to side, then tried to grab onto the standing flower arrangement next to her. She missed and fell slowly to the floor, pulling a few long-stemmed gladiolas from the vase in a last-ditch effort to recover.
Mr. Bilt, Quattro, and another man raced up the stairs, to the podium and Quattro picked her up. “Don’t worry folks!” Quattro called. “She’ll be all right. She’s just drunk.” He carried her out.
Mr. Vanderbilt moved to the microphone. What was he doing?
“I’m the owner of this funeral home,” he said. “My name is Dickie Vanderbilt, but I prefer Richard. I can honestly say I’ve never had such a tremendous turn out. I want to thank all of you for coming. I’m sorry about the air conditioning, and whichever one of you dies next I promise the unit will be repaired by that time. Think of Tropical Slumber Funeral Home for all your burial needs.”
“Enough of this,” I whispered to my mother and brother. I flew out of my seat, raced to the podium before another person could walk up, and I gave Mr. Vanderbilt a shove at the small of his back, pushing him from the microphone.
“Hello. My name is Madison Westin. I want to thank all of you for showing your love and support by coming out on such a hot day to say good-bye to my aunt, Elizabeth Hart. She loved life, loved her family, and was a generous friend. This concludes the service today. The graveside service will be family only.”
The main entry door flew open. “We’re here!” shouted a young boy who ran in with a blonde woman behind him who appeared to be his mother.
Everyone turned around, and I smiled. The young boy was laughing and jumping up and down. He was wearing a shark tee shirt, and was holding a cage with a lizard in it. So far, he looked to be the best part of the day, even though I had no idea who he was.
“Well done, sis,” Brad said. “They’ve started to leave.”
“This is the most undignified funeral I’ve ever been to. What would Elizabeth have thought?” I wrapped my arms around my brother for a reassuring hug.
“Who’s the man headed our way?” Mother asked.
“I came over to introduce myself,” the man began. “I’m Tucker Davis, Elizabeth’s attorney. I was one of her closest personal friends.” He smiled, extending his hand. He looked to be in his fifties and then some, tall and greying, with a slick air of self-satisfaction.
My mother and brother shook hands with him.
“I don’t shake hands,” I said to him. My mother looked shocked, and Brad laughed. I ignored them. “Funny how you and Elizabeth were such close personal friends and she never once ment
ioned your name.”
“Madison,” mother scolded. “Today has been a long day for all of us, Mr. Davis, and this wasn’t quite the ceremony we expected.”
“Really?” Tucker said. “I thought everything went smoothly.”
It was clear to me he didn’t give a damn what Elizabeth’s family thought. I felt awful for my mother who had just buried her only sibling. This wasn’t the kind of funeral that brings closure.
“I need to set an appointment for the three of you to come to my office for the reading of the will,” Tucker continued, “possibly in two to three weeks. My assistant, Ann, will give you a call.”
“The three of us are here now,” Brad told him. “You can do the reading as soon as we’re done here.”
“Today isn’t good for me,” Tucker said.
“My mother’s returning to South Carolina,” Brad told him, “and I run a fishing business. It’s the middle of the season and I have to get back to work. If you can’t make time today, then give us the will and we’ll read the damn thing ourselves.”
“I agree with Brad,” I said. “Based on experience, you’ve been hard to get hold of. We’re here now, so let’s get this over with.”
Anger flashed across Tucker’s face and disappeared just as quickly. “Fine. Be at my office in two hours. And don’t be late since I’m being so accommodating.” He turned and walked away.
“He’s definitely a man used to telling people what to do,” I said. “Dealing with him won’t be easy.”
“What a tool,” Brad said. “Madison, you’re going to have to keep an eye on him. When you’re around him I’d keep one eye looking over your shoulder, if I were you.”
“Calm down you two,” mother said. “Everything will be fine. Elizabeth wouldn’t leave her affairs in a mess. She was very organized. She would’ve left her paperwork in order, and clearly spelled out.”
“I certainly hope so,” I said. “He acts like he has a personal stake in the estate and doesn’t want to share. And I hate the evasive way he answers my questions. Having to work with both him and his unfriendly assistant will drive me crazy for sure.”
“He’ll loosen up when the two of you start working together on settling the estate,” mother said.
“I still can’t believe that Elizabeth is dead,” I sighed. “First her death, then this ridiculous funeral, and now the reading of the will, which will make it seem even more final.”
Brad tugged on one of my red curls. “I’ll find Dickie Vanderbilt and make sure everything has been taken care of. I wonder if anyone just calls him Dick.”
The three of us laughed.
“He prefers Richard,” I mimicked.
My mother smiled. “Wasn’t he an odd little man? He stood at the podium and tried to solicit business!”
“I’m going to walk around, say good bye to the lingerers and push them out the door,” I said.
“Find out about the blonde who showed up at the end of the service,” Brad said.
“You’re not going to try to pickup someone up at a funeral, are you?” I asked, staring at him. Brad stood six feet tall, with sun-bleached hair, and the look of the boy next-door.
“Elizabeth would get a good laugh if I hooked up with a good-looking blonde at her funeral,” he said.
“What about Madison? Maybe, we could find someone to introduce her to,” mother suggested.
“Oh no, you don’t. You first. How about Brad and I fix you up with the man who had the naked hula girl on his shirt?”
“And did you notice that the shirt gave the illusion you could see inside the grass skirt?” Brad said. “I’ll go deal with Richard. Madison, you get rid of the rest of the people and go find the blonde girl.”
“What about me? What am I going to do?” Mother asked.
“Behave yourself, and we’ll be right back. I know. Go outside and smoke.” Brad winked at her.
“Nice, Brad, encouraging Mother to smoke. No ‘Son of the Year’ award for you.”
Chapter 2
“Here’s another charming house that’s been converted into commercial property,” mother said as we pulled into the driveway. “I don’t care for the idea, but I suppose anything is better than tearing it down and, heaven forbid, putting in a strip mall.”
Tucker Davis’ office was located in an old one-story cottage-style house, painted sea blue, with tropical plants and palm trees in abundance. An old sailboat in the yard held up his sign.
“I expected something chrome and glass,” I said. “Sterile, like his personality.”
“Why couldn’t the reading of the will be done at Elizabeth’s?” Brad complained. “I guess I should be happy he agreed to do this today.”
The three of us walked into Tucker’s office. “Here’s your chrome and glass,” my mother pointed out. “Nothing in here fits with the charm of the outside of the house.”
Tucker appeared in the doorway of his office, his fake smile firmly in place. “Come in. I wasn’t sure you’d be on time.”
“We could go sit in the car,” Brad said.
Tucker laughed as if he thought what Brad said was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and then he motioned to several chairs placed in front of his desk. He opened the folder in front of him. “The will is pretty cut and dried. Elizabeth was explicit in her wishes. The first part is legalese, sound mind and body, etc. And, as you are aware, she appointed me executor.”
“What did she say exactly?” I asked. “Since you insisted on a formal reading, we’d like to hear what she wrote instead of a summary.”
“This is the way I conduct these types of proceedings,” Tucker said. “I’ll read the sections that pertain to each of you. Once the will is filed with the court, Ann will send copies out, and you can go over every word in detail. Now let’s get started.” He put on his glasses, shuffled through the papers and began reading.
“Madeline, Madison and Brad, you are the three people I loved most in the world. I’m sorry this day has come. I wanted you to know I was the lucky one to have had all of you as my family. First, to Madeline, my sister and best friend, thank you for sharing your children with me. They were my greatest joy. Because of your generosity, I never missed having children of my own. I’m leaving you all of my jewelry that you loved so much.” Tucker stopped to pour himself a glass of water, not offering us anything.
“Mother, are you okay?” I asked.
“I loved her jewelry,” she said. “I want to go back to last week when I could call and ask her to borrow a necklace or a bracelet and she would send it to me. Two months ago, when we had lunch in Myrtle Beach she gave me her emerald bracelet because she knew I loved it.”
Tucker looked at us. “Can I continue?”
I nodded, thinking how truly insensitive he was.
“Brad, you were like a son to me. I was extremely proud of you. I enjoyed our business ventures. They were not only fun but profitable. My favorite was the commercial fishing. It was hard work, but being on the water with the wind and the sun in my face, there’s no better way to spend a day. As you are aware, I’ve several accounts at Tarpon Cove Bank to be transferred to you and your sister. Go and see Hank at the bank. He has all of the necessary paperwork.”
“Elizabeth left this envelope for you,” Tucker said, handing it to Brad. “She also transferred to you her share in all of the business interests you own together. All loans have been paid in full.”
Tucker looked back at the documents before him. “Now for you, Madison. You’re like a daughter to me and, as you got older, a trusted friend as well. I want you to have the happy life you deserve. Take the letter I left for you, brew a cup of tea, sit by the window, and read it in a private moment. You’re to receive the rest of my estate, which includes The Tarpon Cove Cottages. The property is a big responsibility and I know you’re up to the challenge. Tucker can answer any questions that come up.”
“This concludes the reading,” Tucker said. “And as I mentioned, each of you will receive a copy
in a couple of weeks, and you can read the will in its entirety.” He closed the file. “There’s one last issue. I understand you’re staying in Elizabeth’s house, Madison. Since the Cove Road property wasn’t covered in her will, it’ll be sold and divided accordingly and you’ll need to vacate as soon as possible”
“I’m not moving anywhere,” I told him. “I’m surprised Elizabeth didn’t tell you, but my name was put on the deed years ago with right of survivorship. The house is mine now. Since I plan to stay, I’m making Cove Road my home. You can send any correspondence to me there.”
“No, I wasn’t aware,” Tucker said looking unhappy over the new information. “In any case, I’ll be checking with the county recorder to make sure the deed is in order. Elizabeth also wanted me to give you this.” He handed me a small skeleton key. “She left no further instructions. I assume you know what it goes to.”
I nodded. I knew exactly what the key fit.
“I have received an offer for the house,” Tucker told me.
“I’m not interested in selling.”
“At our next meeting we can go over the contract. It’s a package deal that includes the cottages. It’s a very good deal. You should give the idea some thought,” he insisted.
I shook my head at him. “Tarpon Cove is my home now.”
“This concludes everything we needed to discuss today,” Tucker said, sounding a bit irritated, and then turned to me.
“In the next couple of weeks I’ll be setting up meetings with you to discuss The Cottages and go over current and future management issues. The property needs hands-on attention, but right now, everything is running smoothly.” He stood up, crossed to the door and held it open. “Thank you for coming.”
After leaving Tucker’s frigid office – in more ways than one and returning to the heat of the evening, Brad said, “Let’s go to dinner at The Crab Shack and celebrate Elizabeth.”
“Since the three of us are together it’s a good time for a family meeting,” Madeline said. “So much has happened in a short amount of time.”
Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise Page 24