by Leona Fox
The diary ended there. As Ellen finished reading it aloud the rest of her friends were hushed into silence, not only from respect for the dead but also for the revelation that he had an heir.
“But who is it?” Kelly asked.
“Whoever they are, they have a large fortune awaiting them,” Andy replied.
Ellen was distracted, though, and couldn't help but think of the man writing that journal. She never had investigated his life fully and, as far as she knew, he was just another name that had done a lot of good for the town. Yet now she was confronted with his life, with his last words, and she wondered how he must have felt when he became aware of his impending doom. All of the choices he had made came down to that one terrible moment, and then everything he knew, everything he had, was taken away from him. It was almost enough to make someone think that all of life was futile, but it only made Ellen look at her friends and remind herself she had a lot to be thankful for in life.
The question of the heir soon spread around town and the discovery of the body was big news. People flocked to the cave to lay eyes on the skeleton. Andy had to post a couple of officers there to make sure nobody disturbed the body, and that nobody suffered an accident in all the excitement. Wild rumors flew around town about Michael van De Lay and how many heirs he sired, with a number of people claiming they could trace their lineage back to him. Some even were claiming their maternal ancestors had been unfaithful to their husbands and had fallen for the charms of the wealthy industrialist. However, Ellen saw these claims for what they were, hollow, empty, and devoid of merit. Yet, somewhere out there was the rightful heir, and surely it only would be a matter of time before they came to East Pender.
Chapter 2
The revelation of Michael van De Lay's body and the subsequent excitement surrounding the news of his missing heir was big enough that it caught the attention of people in the city. To most of them East Pender was a small town, perhaps good enough for a weekend break to refresh their energies and get a taste of what life was like in old America, but now they read the story with glee. Charlotte Pryce scanned the article and spun in her chair, wearing a wicked grin on her face. She commanded a car and wasted no time in journeying to East Pender, roaring up to disturb the peaceful afternoon. Ellen was at the cafe as usual when she heard the large car roar up. Black smoke wafted into the air and loud music escaped the doors as they opened and Charlotte stepped out. She was a tall, lean woman with a pale face and sharp features. Her red hair flowed down in thick curls and her red lipstick was striking. Silver earrings gleamed in the sunlight and her conservative dress looked professional. She wore little jewelry, and she had a commanding presence.
She took a few steps forward into the crowd, for they all had been attracted by the loud entrance. She giggled a little and held out her hands.
“I'm glad you all are here to welcome me, for I am Charlotte Pryce, the rightful heir of Michael van De Lay.” The declaration was met with loud gasps.
She spoke with such confidence that nobody doubted her, although, of course, Ellen was skeptical. She furrowed her brow at the woman, who seemed eager to show off her car and enjoy the adulation of everyone who was impressed by such material things. Ellen returned to the cafe and called Andy to notify him of the new development. Yet it wasn't long before Charlotte entered The Chrome Cafe, followed by a number of people who had been enchanted by her entrance. But Ellen was not so easily swayed. She saw the way Charlotte looked down her nose at those around her, and when she spoke it was with a haughty tone and one of disdain. She looked around disparagingly at the cafe and Scampy growled when she drew near. Charlotte ordered a complicated drink, one that you only would find served in a chain coffee shop.
“I'm sorry, we only do regular lattes, mochas, and espressos,” Ellen said.
“Why, am I not surprised,” Charlotte sighed.
“There's much to be said for places such as this but I never could live here. I think I would miss everything I love about the city. This town is just so...quaint. It's like something out of a picture book. How do you manage to get by without all of the luxuries of the city?” she said, handing Ellen the money and placing a few coins in the tip jar.
“We get by,” Ellen said through gritted teeth.
“Well, you may be seeing more of me since I am the heir to Michael van De Lay's fortune. It is my birthright to be here so I suppose I should get used to the place.”
“Do you mind if I ask what the nature of your claim is? There have been a lot of people who have come forward saying they are the rightful heir but so far nobody has been able to provide any concrete proof.”
“Ah, and that is where they fail. Unfortunately, my lawyers said I should not reveal it to just anyone. So I shall only let the officials see it, but you can be assured I would not be here unless I had to be. I am looking forward to discovering more about your town, and the mill in particular. That was one of the main talking points of the article I read.”
“The article?” Ellen said, placing the cup of coffee in front of Charlotte. The hot, musky liquid sat between them and the steamy aroma rose like a mist.
“Oh, yes. Word of this discovery spread quite far and wide. It's not every day a long lost billionaire is found, and all this time he was in the very town that mourned his loss. How strange, but then again this town does seem quite simple. So they probably didn't even think to look in the caves. Far easier just to be told what to think I imagine.” Ellen bristled at this but she did not say anything, knowing it was better for Charlotte to talk so she could get more information.
“But yes, the article mentioned all about my ancestor's fortune and how the ownership of the mill would be transferred to whomever proved themselves the rightful heir. As I understand it, most of this town’s trade is pumped through the mill, yes?” Ellen nodded.
“So really, the person who ends up with the mill is going to have the future of the town in their hands, or I should say my hands? It is only a simple matter to prove my claim and I will look to move quickly. There are so many options for me. The mill has drawn interest from a lot of people over the years. Perhaps it is time for the ownership to change hands.”
“If you were really Michael van De Lay's descendant then you would know he loved this town and he only ever wanted the best for it. You should be ashamed of yourself for thinking that. This town is a good town, filled with good people and they deserve more than to be used as pawns for someone else to get rich,” Ellen spat, unable to take Charlotte's bile any longer. Charlotte merely smiled and took her coffee.
“We'll see,” she said as she walked away from Ellen and took a seat at a table.
She pulled out a cellphone and typed out a message, then shot a spiteful glance at Ellen. Ellen pretended to ignore it and she told Scampy to calm down for he could sense the anger inside her, too. This Charlotte, whomever she was, promised trouble and Ellen hoped for everyone's sake that she was not, in fact, the rightful heir. Ellen was also a little annoyed that word had spread as far as the city. Already there were too many pretenders for the throne and this opened it up for more people who were seeking to take advantage. Moreover, she wanted this affair to be internal and handled by the people of the town, because they were whom it ultimately concerned. When she saw Andy and Kelly next she told them of Charlotte.
“I really don't like her. She's up to no good. I want to discredit her so she can go back to the city like all the others and leave us alone,” Ellen said, red-faced and trembling with anger as she thought of Charlotte.
Her skin was flushed and it surprised Kelly and Andy as they rarely saw Ellen in this state. Usually her festering fury was saved for the most heinous criminals and their selfish, greedy motivations, but for all they knew Charlotte could have been right and this judgment was made after only one meeting. Yet, that was the impression Charlotte had made. Something about her had gotten under Ellen's skin and Ellen wanted nothing to do with her.
“It's not that easy,” Andy said, �
��the only way to discredit her properly is to go back through the records and prove that what she claims isn't true.”
“What has she got anyway? What is so airtight that she's so confident of this claim?” Ellen asked.
“I don't know for sure, but the people at the mayor's office are giving serious weight to her claim. You might have to face the fact that she is who she says she is,” Andy said, but Ellen would not accept that conclusion.
“I can't believe she's the descendant of Michael van De Lay. If she is then this town is in trouble. I will look through those records myself if I have to. If there's any chance of proving her wrong, then we have to take it.” Ellen spoke with such ferocity that Andy and Kelly were taken aback.
“Ellen, is what you're saying true? Is she really this bad?” Kelly asked.
“When you meet her you'll see. She doesn't care about this town at all, she just wants to use it for her own benefit.”
Kelly and Ellen were taken to the records department at the library where they were shown to the documents they needed. The people in the library had kept a meticulous record of everyone in the town.
“This is going to take forever,” Kelly said.
“We can't be chasing down criminals all the time. Sometimes we have to do things like this,” she said, and opened the heavy book to look back at the town’s history.
There were so many names included in the book that it sent a wave of awe through Ellen. All these names meant something to somebody. All of them had been a part of the history of East Pender, and it was only a shame that not all of them were honored as much as Michael van De Lay was. Her own name appeared toward the front of the book and she thought about the future, and whether somebody would be looking through these and see her own name. What would the story be behind her? Would they know of her or would she be consigned to the abyss of the past? There were other names she recognized, too, those of the victims she had helped and the criminals she had put away, and her parents.
This book held all the knowledge of the lives that had passed through East Pender. Yet, it had none of the context, none of the events that showed what these lives had meant to people and what they had accomplished. It wasn't enough to chronicle the names of people. It needed more. If she had been younger she would have thought about writing a collection of stories about people in East Pender, to commemorate those who lived there.
East Pender wasn't just a place where people could come and stay for a weekend. It wasn't just a vacation spot, giving people a taste of old time America. It was a vibrant place with a community made up of people who mostly wanted the best for each other. It was just as Michael van De Lay had described in his journal. It was a home, even to those who hadn't been born there, and it was important to remember that. Ellen took that message to heart as it was one she strongly believed. However, having so much information available meant it was an arduous task to try finding the van De Lay family tree. So, unfortunately, they did not accomplish anything on that first night.
Charlotte, meanwhile, had been making noises around town and people seemingly were convinced she was the rightful heir. She acted as though she was superior to everyone else and somehow had managed to arrange a tour of the mill. She always appeared immaculate and never let anyone forget she was from the city. An envoy from the town hall accompanied her to the mill, and she was shown around by one of the men who had been working there all his life, Ray Finn. He was in his sixties but still had a sinewy figure, as fit as a man twenty years younger. He greeted Charlotte with reservation because no one was sure what she planned to do with the mill if she became the owner, although there had been rumblings she was looking to sell it off. Ray wasn't foolish enough to ask that question straight away, though, and wanted to show her what the mill meant to people. He was hoping she would see the good of the people that worked there and would allow it to carry on in the same manner out of the kindness of her heart.
But his hopes were dashed almost as soon as the two of them met. He held out his hand and she looked at it as though merely offering her a dirty glove was an offense. He welcomed her into the mill and she sniffed the air, seemingly rather displeased with the conditions.
“It's hardly the safest place, is it?” she said in her shrill voice.
“Actually ma'am we haven't had an accident here for a long while now. It may not be much to look at but it provides this town with all it needs. We all have worked hard here to make sure everyone is trained on all the equipment.”
The surrounding area was noisy with the whirring and crunching of heavy machinery. Ray and Charlotte had to raise their voices to near-shouting levels just so they could hear each other. The place was filled with sweaty men in tank tops and hard hats, giving their all to their industry, and Charlotte barely gave them a glance.
“Your machinery seems out of date. Why haven't you upgraded?” she asked.
“Ah, yes, well, since the council has been the steward of the mill they've tried maintaining its rustic appeal, you know, since it is a tourist attraction as well as a place of industry. Having all new machinery would take that away. Besides, this is a way to give back to the community. A lot of livelihoods depend on this place and, sure, profits may go up, but the quality of life for a lot of people would go down. That hasn't been a concern for the council, thank goodness. They really have taken care of us all,” he said, trying to hide the worry in his voice, although he wasn't entirely sure he had succeeded.
Her face was incredibly difficult to read and her posture didn't give away much information at all. He continued walking her around the mill but the longer it went on the more disinterested she became.
“May I ask what your plans are for the mill?” he said as they were finishing up the tour.
“Oh, I don't know. Somehow I thought it would be more impressive but I suppose I shouldn't let my expectations rise too high in this town. To be honest, I like my life in the city too much to oversee this place. It seems like it's generated a lot of interest from businessmen in the past and perhaps the best thing to do would be to sell it to one of them. They will know how to make best use of it. I might as well see some financial reward for all the profits my family has missed out on through the years,” she said, and Ray's heart sank.
“May I humbly suggest you consider keeping the status quo? This mill means a lot to the people of the town and we all depend on it for our income. Any big changes could be disastrous and I don't know if that's what your ancestor would have wanted,” he said in an even tone, his kind eyes imploring her. But his placating words were met only with a harsh rebuke.
“Do not presume to tell me what my ancestor would have wanted. He was made of a finer breed than you and this town was the death of him. It has been an oversight that I have not been able to enjoy this property myself, and I have no desire to relocate here. This town is a product of another time and I think perhaps it is appropriate for it to be brought into the twenty-first century. I will not be beholden to the past or to what people think my ancestor would have done. He is not here. I am, and I will do what I see as best,” she said.
Her words were cold and Ray looked at her despondently. He knew in that moment what type of person she was, and what fate lay in store for them. He thanked her for coming to look at the mill but with a heavy heart he returned to work. He knew if she was proved to be the rightful heir there may not be many working days left for him.
Later on that day, Charlotte was in the cafe, broadcasting the fact she had been to the mill. Many people were coming up to her, asking her what her plans were and what she thought of the mill. Charlotte laughed and toyed with them, making vague statements that promised nothing. The whole time, Ellen could see in her eyes that she held nothing but contempt for the town, and this was evidenced when James Johnson came in. He was a smarmy man with a ruddy complexion and thinning hair who always seemed to have his fingers in a number of pies, most of which tasted bitter. He had been trying to get control of the mill for as long as Ellen
could remember, and the fact that Charlotte was meeting him in such a public place was a slap in the face to the citizens of East Pender. They were speaking loudly and made no secret of the fact that both of them only were interested in profit. Indeed, James always had said that if he gained control of the mill there would be a number of job cuts but it was all in the name of efficiency. He claimed he would be doing it for the good of the town. Ellen served them some coffee and as soon as she overheard them discussing this, expressed her disapproval. However, they merely sneered at her and turned her away.
“I'm worried about this, Andy. I’m just really worried,” Ellen said as she met up with Andy later that evening.
“I don't want to see this town go to ruin. Maybe it would have been better if Scott never had found van De Lay's body. And I know Charlotte's type. If her claim is in any way valid she's not going to wait for us to disprove it. I don't know if Kelly and I have enough time to find a way to prove her wrong.” She spoke desperately and Andy remained silent for a while.
“I might know somebody who could help,” he eventually said, but he had a strange look on his face and Ellen wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She did not give it much thought, however, since she was preoccupied with thoughts of Charlotte and the future of East Pender.