“Shelby doesn’t want to hurt you.” She bit her lip. “But she’s intimidated, and can you blame her after the harassment?”
His eyes turned ice cold. “What harassment?”
For a quick moment Hollis flashed back to a similar reaction from Shelby. Were these abrupt mood swings a family trait?
“Shelby says she’s been getting repeated hang-up phone calls and her car was vandalized.”
“Shelby’s in LA, so how could I do something like that? That’s not me!” He was shouting, slamming his fists on table. Standing and towering over Hollis, he demanded, “Did she say it was me?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Hollis saw Tiffany take a quick peek inside the conference room window. Hollis motioned with her head that she was fine.
“No, no, she didn’t say it was you.” Hollis deliberately lowered her voice so he’d have to strain to hear her. “Can you think of anyone who would want to … to frighten her?”
Darol sat back down.
“You mean my kids? No, no … I don’t know. They’re grown, they’re adults. They travel back and forth between here and LA. Did she say they did it?”
“No, she doesn’t know who’s doing it. That’s why she’s feeling … a little afraid.” Hollis remembered Shelby expressing more anger than fear, but she didn’t want to get another flare-up out of Darol. “But I take you at your word, Mr. Patterson. I’ve been retained to secure your daughter’s house and to liquidate the asset. I appreciate your situation but your mother’s trust is valid.”
“ ‘Liquidate the asset.’ You mean sell it, right? Did she tell you that we live there? That’s where we sleep at night. You’re just going to kick us out?” His voice started to rise again.
Hollis rubbed her forehead. “Mr. Patterson, there is no need—”
He stood up and went to the door. “It’s not going to happen.” He pointed his finger at her. “You hear me? It’s not going to happen.”
He left, slamming the door behind him.
Hollis looked up at the ceiling.
And this is my first case.
Chapter 9
For the first time since Hollis could remember, the Fallen Angels all arrived to a meeting early. Triple D’s conference room was certainly more comfortable than the library and everyone acted curious about where she worked. Placing a bottle of water at each seat, Hollis closed the curtains that opened onto the firm’s lobby. She had deliberately chosen six o’clock as the meeting time so that most of the attorneys and staff would be gone.
As she looked around the quiet room, she couldn’t help but reflect that two weeks ago Jeffrey had been alive. Miller was finishing his first origami crane and Richard, deep in thought, twisted his bottled water on its coaster. With heads down, Gene and Rena were both clicking through their smartphones.
Hollis cleared her throat. “Why don’t we go ahead and get started.” She glanced at her notepad. “Brian Wallace wants us to help him check out his stepmother’s activities leading up to Jeffrey’s death.”
Richard passed his hand over his bald spot. “He didn’t say us, he asked you and Gene.”
“No, he mentioned all of us,” Hollis insisted. “He knows we come as a package. Besides, I couldn’t do it without you guys. I don’t have your skills, Richard, for evaluating numbers, or Miller’s research resources, or Rena’s network of contacts.”
Miller doodled on a pad of paper and looked thoughtful. “The police won’t want us interfering in their investigation. I’d like to do something to help find Jeffrey’s killer. Since it’s too late for that, all I can do is help his son. I can live with that.”
“Me too,” Rena said. “Jeffrey played by the book. He put us all back on track. He shouldn’t have died the way he did.”
Gene cleared his throat. “When you think about it, working with Brian keeps us low profile. We can work behind the scenes, helping him, while we find out what we can about what happened to Jeffrey.”
“Yeah, good point.” Richard sat up. “It’s probably best if you two are his main contacts, though. He doesn’t have to meet with all of us.”
“Don’t worry, Richard.” Hollis leaned in. “You’ve made it clear you want to stay below the radar.”
Richard opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He could see the looks the other Fallen Angels were giving him. He splayed his hand across his chest. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to help, but I would rather not be out front on this. My wife—”
“Oh good grief, not her again,” Rena said and took a swallow of water.
Miller demanded. “Who is your wife, anyway? Does she work for the president or something? What’s her name?”
Richard turned red. “That’s none of—”
“Come on, people, let’s stay focused,” Hollis intervened. “It sounds like we all want to do this thing with Brian. Is everyone in?”
Their eyes met expectantly, and everyone agreed.
Gene said, “Did you say he was willing to pay?”
“He’s going to pay my firm a small retainer for my services as a co-executor. Actually the estate pays me, not him. As a group, I don’t think taking money is a good idea.” Hollis scribbled on her pad. “I would rather not be obligated to him for looking into the trust. Besides, we’re doing this for Jeffrey.”
“I’m with Hollis on that,” Richard said. “Brian seems like a straight-up guy, but I’m doing this because Jeffrey worked long hours to keep his clients clean. I don’t want that time and money wasted going to someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
They all nodded vigorously.
Hollis stood. “Good. I’ll contact Brian and let him know. I’ll tell him to send me anything he has on his stepmother and everything on the Wallace trust. Here are copies of the preliminary ME report.” She handed out the pages. “When I get his information, I’ll copy it for each of you, too. We should probably still plan on meeting next Thursday at the library.”
“It’s going to be impossible to evaluate the financial distribution if there’s a trust,” Richard said. “It’s blind to the public.”
Gene’s fingers pulled randomly at the hairs in his eyebrow. “True, except I bet ol’ Brian can get his hands on his dad’s previous will and maybe even his tax returns. Don’t worry; there will be something for you to start pulling apart.”
“Good thinking, Gene,” Rena said. “It doesn’t sound like a lot of networking will be needed here, but once I see what’s in the file I can help Gene with the background check on Frances, and maybe on Brian, too.”
“Hey now, that is good thinking.” Hollis smiled. “Okay, let’s wrap this up for now. I’ll tell Brian to send everything he can as soon as he can. Let’s meet on Tuesday and lay out our plan.”
After saying their goodbyes, they all gathered up their things to leave. Gene hung back to walk out with Hollis as she turned off the lights.
“What do you really think about all this?”
Hollis shrugged. “Between a disputed trust and an unsolved murder of one of the beneficiaries, we’re in for a bumpy ride.”
Returning home, Hollis was drained, anxious, and on edge. The message light on her phone blinked. Putting her purse down, she pressed the button.
John’s lighthearted voice greeted her. “Hey, how about a drink tonight? Let me know one way or the other.”
Hollis thought she might be oversensitive, but his cheeriness sounded a little forced. They needed to see each other, but it was too late tonight. She pushed the call-back button.
“Hey, I just got home, so no drink tonight. How about I fix you dinner tomorrow? It’s the start of the weekend and we won’t be in work mode.”
She could hear John’s smile as he said, “I was wondering how you were going to get back in my good graces.”
She laughed, a little uncomfortably. “Do I need to get back into your good graces?”
His tone turned serious. “We need to talk. I know you’re probably wiped out now, but tomorrow, okay?”
&nbs
p; She searched for something more to say but all that slipped through was, “Okay.”
She hung up and hugged herself.
Hollis looked critically around her dining room. The table centerpiece was a small vase of flowers and two large lime-colored candles. The setting was colorful, with pastel tangerine plates and pale yellow cloth napkins.
It looked too girly.
She removed the plates and went to the kitchen to swap in her everyday white plates. Better.
She was still debating on changing out the candles when she heard a key in the lock. She and John had exchanged keys only a few months ago. She had used his key only once, primarily because her place was cozier. Hollis never minded his access—except for the very first time, when she heard the key in the door and almost broke out in hives. Other than that, she thought she was handling things well. John entered with arms outstretched for a hug. In one hand he held her favorite bottle of Zinfandel from the Brown Estate Vineyards in Napa Valley.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “It will go perfectly with dinner.”
He looked at the table. “Everything looks real nice. I wasn’t expecting the royal treatment.” John took off his jacket and hung it up in the guest closet.
Hollis raised her lips for his light kiss.
“What royal treatment? I eat like this every night.”
“You mean this isn’t going all out for your man?” He eyes gazed into hers.
“You’re so funny.” Hollis laughed longer than the comment warranted and looked away. She motioned for him to take a seat at the table. “Do you know if they’ve found out anything more about Jeffrey’s murder?”
John’s jaw tensed. “What are you doing?”
“I was curious.” She reached for the bottle of wine and began to open it. “And I’m getting ready to pour you a glass of really good vintage wine that my lover brought me tonight.”
He put his hand over hers.
“Sit down. I’ll repeat, what are you doing? I thought we could have one evening when murder, mayhem, nut cases and other assorted personality disorders from our work-a-day world didn’t have to join us for dinner.” John’s gaze held hers.
“Just forget it. It was a simple question.” She looked away. “I’m getting ready to feed you so we can enjoy the rest of the evening on a full stomach.” Hollis slipped her hand out from under his and poured her own glass.
“The promise of later sounds great, but I would rather you be real with me, now,” he said and took a sip of wine. “Mmm, this is good.”
She went into the kitchen, calling out over her shoulder, “I told you it was.” She went over to the counter and started putting away the cookbooks she’d used. “Now, I’ll just—”
“No, wait.” He held up his hand. “Sit down. We’re not eating until we get things straight.”
“Dinner is ready now.” Hollis sat heavily and threw the dishtowel on the table. “What do you want from me?” Then, as if hearing herself, she leaned back in her chair and let her chin drop on her chest. “Look, I don’t know what the matter is. At first I thought it was Jeffrey’s death, but it’s not all about him, it’s … it’s … me.”
“You mean us?” John looked at her struggle for words. “You want me to go?”
“No!” she protested. “No, I definitely do not want you to go.”
He got up from the table and took her in his arms. “And I don’t want to go, but we need to clear the air between us.”
She clung to him. “This is where I want to be.”
“Then what’s the problem? I will be here for you, always.”
She pushed him back, and in a shaky voice said, “You’re asking me to take down a wall I put up to keep my feelings safe. Last time I didn’t read the signs. No, ‘sign’ is not a strong enough word; it was a billboard. I let my ex-husband betray everything I held dear. I lost my way.”
He tilted her chin to look into her eyes. “Listen, I love you. I love us. We can take it slow. There are other signs, too. But don’t make up stuff to justify pushing me away.”
She grazed his lips with her fingers, then murmured, “I need more time.”
Chapter 10
“Hollis,” Tiffany said over the phone, “Vince is here from the mailroom. He has a package for you.” Her voice did little to hide her curiosity.
Hollis smiled to herself. “It’s okay. Send him back to my office.” She owed her cheerfulness this Monday morning to an enjoyable weekend with John. Once they’d gotten past their rough start, he agreed to give her the space she needed and not push her. She’d relaxed, and now she couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
“Aren’t you going to want me to date-stamp it in?”
“I’ll bring it to you later. It’s not time sensitive,” Hollis said. “Tiffany, just send Vince back to my office.”
A few moments later he stood in her doorway.
Hollis got up and gave him a hug. He stiffened, bent over, and patted her shoulder.
She took a step back. “Vince, you look good.”
He was dressed in a new white T–shirt and his standard gray hoodie with a pair of dark slacks that had a worn sheen. Hollis didn’t care. She looked into his eyes. He was clean, inside and out.
“Hi, Hollis, I wanted you to know I’d started work. I was here last week but I had to go to employee training.”
“That’s great news. Have a seat.”
“I can’t. I gotta get back. The U.S. Mail gets delivered at ten o’clock.”
Hollis smiled to see him taking his job so seriously.
“I came to bring you this package. We’re supposed to hand-deliver packages we’re told to look out for.”
“But I didn’t send a hand deliver notice.”
“I know. When I saw your name on the package, I just wanted to see you and let you know I was here.” Vince added gravely, “Thanks, Hollis, for getting me this job. You won’t be sorry.”
She grinned. “I know.”
Brian had sent her several documents comprising about sixty pages. The before will and the after trust were included, along with several years of tax returns and a home refinance application. Hollis removed the staples and headed to the firm’s high-speed printer.
She was finishing up when one of the new paralegals walked up to use the machine. “I’ll sign out for you. What’s the client code?”
Hollis gave her a smile. “Thank you, but, uh, I used to be a paralegal. I’ll take care of it. This is a new case and I need a new matter number.”
The young woman, who looked like a high school junior, waited patiently. “No problem. By the way, congratulations! I saw in the firm’s weekly report you brought in a new client.” She stacked an inch-high packet into the copier. “I’m taking the bar in four months. The part I dread the most is having to find new clients.”
Hollis wondered when they started letting seventeen-year-olds take the bar. “It’s not so bad; sometimes they seem to fall out of the sky.” She turned to leave. “Good luck with the bar. Let me know if I can be of help.”
She dropped the last packet in the overnight mail to the Fallen Angels; they should each get their copy the next day. She wanted them to have a few days to look over the material before their next meeting.
“Uh, Hollis,” Tiffany said in a hushed tone from the doorway. “Sorry for the interruption.”
“What’s the matter? Come on in.”
“I can’t. I’ve to get back to the front desk.” She looked over her shoulder and whispered, “There’s a couple waiting for you in the main conference room. They don’t have an appointment.”
“They must be drop-ins. Why are you whispering?”
“You’re starting to have a lot of drop-ins.” Tiffany spoke in her regular voice but her expression was stern. “I’m sorry; I’m being silly. I know they can’t hear us. But I want to be able to see your meeting from the lobby.”
“Why? What’s wrong? Who are they?”
“They said their names are Joy and Sonny Patterso
n. I think they’re related to that other guy who came last week.”
“Oh.” Hollis got up grabbed a pad and pen. She steered Tiffany out into the hallway. “If it’s who I think it is, they’re brother and sister, not a couple.”
Glancing into the conference room as she entered the lobby, Hollis could immediately see what had caused Tiffany’s alarm. Shelby’s brother looked like a coiled snake ready to strike. Hollis could even sense his glare from where she was standing. Joy, while less intimidating, wore her attitude of unease in the set of her jaw. They were both wearing jeans and sweatshirts that advertised a 2010 jazz festival. Joy was clearly her father’s daughter—brown-skinned, attractive, tall, with piercing dark eyes. She paced the room. Her brother Sonny, who was slightly taller with acne-scarred cheeks, sat sullenly in a chair.
“Good afternoon,” she said, not moving to offer her hand. “My name is Hollis Morgan. How can I help you?”
The young woman sat down and spoke first. “We’re Shelby’s brother and sister. I’m Joy and this is Sonny. We came to tell you that if Shelby sells our house, she still can live on campus, but if you take our house we won’t have a place to sleep.”
“I know this is unfortunate. I tried to get your dad to understand—”
“No, you don’t understand.” Sonny stopped slouching and sat up straight. “Shelby doesn’t have to go to college now; she can get a job and go to college later. She doesn’t need that house.”
Hollis looked over at him with sympathy, but addressed her comments to Joy, who seemed the calmer of the two. “I’ve been hired to process a valid legal claim. It was your grandmother’s house and she chose to give it to your stepsister. Shelby’s not to blame.”
Sonny jumped up and pointed his finger in Hollis’ face. “Look, we’re not gettin’ out of that house. We can make her and you real sorry if you try to make us.”
Hollis flashed back to her time in prison, where intimidation was an everyday tactic and standing up for yourself was the only survival option.
She spoke between clenched teeth. “Look, you slime bug, get your finger out of my face. You threaten me or my client again, and you’ll find a home all right. You’ll be checking into the rooms in county jail.”
The Return of the Fallen Angels Book Club (A Hollis Morgan Mystery 3) Page 6