The lawyer’s watery blue eyes opened wide. “I can’t imagine who would do such a thing.”
“Neither can Mrs. Stoddard. That’s why I’ve gotten involved.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Go over the terms of the will with us if you would.”
The attorney turned to Jen. “Mrs. Stoddard, you have a copy of the will. Did you lose it?”
“No, I didn’t.” She looked to Grant Coleman.
“Mrs. Stoddard showed me the will. But I’m not a lawyer. I need you to explain some things.”
“Certainly. What is it you would like to know?”
“Well, sir, first of all, if Mrs. Stoddard should die, who inherits? Does the money and house go to her heirs?”
Mr. Donne sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “That’s a good question. The estate would only go to Mrs. Stoddard’s heirs if she first inherited it. That would mean she lived two years in Mrs. Pritchard’s house. Otherwise, the house and the rest of the estate would be divided among sundry charities which Mrs. Pritchard designated.”
Grant turned and looked at her. “That’s really interesting. So if someone drove Mrs. Stoddard out of the house before two year’s time, she wouldn’t collect a dime.”
“I’m afraid that’s correct,” the attorney agreed.
Grant was thoughtful for a time. “What about Sara Morrow, Mrs. Pritchard’s daughter, how would she benefit if her daughter left town?”
The lawyer appeared perplexed. “I don’t see that she would benefit at all.”
“Mr. Donne, was Sara Morrow ever in her mother’s will?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she was. Sara and her mother often argued. After one particularly bitter disagreement, Mrs. Pritchard asked me to change her will to benefit her granddaughter and completely disinherit her daughter. She told me that her granddaughter’s husband had just passed away and she was concerned about Mrs. Stoddard’s financial security and that of her great grandchild. She wanted them both protected. She said her daughter was a lost cause, a greedy individual who would never change. She wanted her granddaughter to return to her roots.” The lawyer turned to Jen. “Your grandmother believed your life and especially that of your child would be better living here than in a city.”
Jen was about to say that no one in New York had threatened her or attempted to kill her, dangerous as city life might be perceived. However, she held her tongue.
“I’m sure she meant well,” Jen said.
The attorney gave her an approving nod. “Velma was a good woman. She wanted only the best for you and your boy.”
“Mr. Donne, can you provide me with a list of the charities that would benefit if Mrs. Stoddard doesn’t live in her grandmother’s house for the stipulated two year period?”
“I’ll have my assistant provide you with that information.”
Grant shifted in his seat. “There is one other thing. How is the estate being administered?”
Mr. Donne raised his brows. “Why through my office.”
“By you personally?”
“I’m the executor. My nephew Edward is a C.P.A. He is in charge of all our firm’s auditing procedures. The funds themselves were originally invested by Mr. Pritchard. His wife took over upon his death. Shortly after Mrs. Pritchard set up the trust for her granddaughter, she had our firm take over the investments. In the last year of her life, she was much too ill to be bothered by such matters.”
On leaving Mr. Donne’s office, Jen turned to Grant Coleman. “What are you thinking?”
“Something doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s just cop instinct. I’ll look into the matter. I promise.”
Jen felt reassured. She was convinced that Grant was reliable. When he gave his word, he would follow through.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jen found Maryann and Rob Coleman sharing blueberry muffins and coffee when she returned to the house.
“Where’s Aaron?”
Maryann stood up. “Mrs. Higgins phoned. She invited him over to play with her son. So I took him over there. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Not under the circumstances. Thank you.”
Rob stood and pulled out a chair for her to sit on. “I just finished putting in the new glass. Window’s as good as new.”
“As long as no one decides to smash it again.”
“Let’s hope that’s the end of it,” Maryann said. “I remember when I was a kid, one of our next door neighbor’s sons broke our window practicing baseball.”
“Not quite the same thing.”
“No, I guess not.” Maryann lowered her eyes.
“So Grant’s not with you?” Rob brushed the crumbs from his fingers.
“No, but he’s promised to continue looking into the matter. I can imagine he has a great deal else on his agenda.”
“Yeah, he’s a busy guy, but he’ll figure this out. He’s a good cop. So don’t you worry. Tell you what, tonight is The Red Pepper’s pizza special. Two for one. Why don’t I take us all out? Best pizza anywhere.”
Maryann looked to her.
“All right,” Jen said. “I know Aaron would love it. Pizza’s just about his favorite food. He practically inhales it.”
“Great. Six-thirty a good time?”
“Perfect.”
By the time Jen had picked up Aaron at the Higgins’ house and got him cleaned up, Maryann had already changed into another sundress. It had a stunning floral print bodice that flattered her blond good looks. By comparison, Jen thought she must look quite plain but somehow didn’t mind.
“Mom, Mrs. Higgins says there’s a swim club and their family are members. We’re all going to be invited.” Aaron sounded happy and excited.
“Aaron, I don’t want to impose on them.”
“Mom, you wouldn’t be. They really want to have us. Honor bright.”
“All right. I’ll talk to Mrs. Higgins and we’ll see.”
Rob picked them up at six-thirty, just as he said he would.
Aaron, in full race horse mode, couldn’t be contained. “I’m starving! Let’s go.” He rushed out the front door heading in the direction of Rob’s pick-up truck.
Jen hurried after him. “You’re always hungry.”
Rob caught up with Aaron. “Okay, let’s get going, champ.”
Aaron ran ahead again and then waited for them by Rob’s pick-up. “Can I go with Rob?”
“Sure,” Jen agreed. “We’ll meet you there.”
“I can squeeze us all in the cab,” Rob offered.
Jen shook her head. “You two go ahead. We’ll catch up.” She watched them drive off before heading toward her car.
“What is it?” Maryann asked. “You looked wistful.”
“Just thinking how much Aaron needs a man in his life. We both miss Bill.”
Maryann placed her arm around Jen. “I know it can’t be easy for either one of you.”
“I won’t dwell on it. Meantime, we have Rob generously spending time with all of us. He really is a kind man.”
“Not like his brother?”
Jen thought of the way Grant had held her in his arms the evening before and kissed her. “The Chief has his moments.” She offered a wry smile.
“If you say so. I think he’s a little scary. I wouldn’t want him for an enemy.”
It was all going well until Grant Coleman sauntered into the establishment.
Rob called to his brother. “Hey, Chief, join us. We’ve got plenty.”
Grant looked at them and shook his head. “Sorry. Meeting someone.”
Sure enough, he looked around, saw an attractive blonde and slid into the booth opposite her at the rear of the establishment.
“Hot date?” Maryann brows rose in a questioning expression. Jen didn’t know why but Maryann’s comment bothered her. Kind of silly considering she and Grant had no history together.
“That’s no hot date.”
“Do tell,” Maryann said, leaning forward.
“She’s Grant’s ex, Cary. I heard she was in town. Hope she’s not come to hit him up for money. She’s done that in the past. He doesn’t owe her anything. She skipped out on him when he was deployed overseas. Dumped him for some sales exec from Minneapolis. I hear she’s divorced from another fellow now as well. I got no use for her. Never did like her.”
On that she and Rob agreed. Although Jen had to be honest and admit she’d been jealous of Cary who’d been a popular cheerleader back in high school.
“They look attractive together,” Jen allowed.
“Think so?” Rob scowled. “He doesn’t want anything to do with her. But he’s got a good heart. Too good for the likes of her.”
“And here I thought your brother was the tough, dangerous type.” Maryann teased him obviously hoping to improve Rob’s mood.
They watched Grant and his ex. They didn’t eat together, Jen observed. Eventually Cary, frowning, rose from the table with an abrupt motion and clicked out of the restaurant on stiletto heels.
“She did not look happy,” Maryann whispered to Jen.
“I’m inviting my brother to join us again. He needs company.”
“And pizza,” Aaron said.
“Got that right, sport.”
Rob did most of the talking, but dinner went better than she expected. Every once in a while, Grant looked over at her and Jen wondered what he might be thinking. He remained an enigma for her, a puzzle that she didn’t expect to solve any time soon. The man appeared to have many facets, some of them well-hidden. She wished she didn’t find him so attractive. She didn’t need any more hurt in her life.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Grant phoned ahead setting up an appointment to interview Sara Morrow. He kept his tone casual and she responded by agreeing to see him. No sense showing hostility. It wouldn’t help get him any insights or information. He might not like the woman, but no need to make that obvious.
The highway motel she stayed at looked rundown. The rugs and curtains in the seedy lobby showed evidence of wear. Grant asked the bored desk clerk to announce him. After about ten minutes Sara Morrow joined him in the lobby. He assumed her purpose in keeping him waiting was deliberate since he’d called ahead. She was making a point.
Her hair sported a bad dye job, unreal red color, teased and sprayed giving her a phony look. He noted the contrast to her daughter. Jennifer Stoddard’s silky hair framed her face in soft waves of rich, dark amber.
Sara Morrow’s face had formed deep wrinkles around the mouth as if she frowned a good deal. She’d dressed in pink slacks and a print blouse which had a noticeable stain in front.
“Ms. Morrow. Thank you for seeing me.”
She pointed a long, blood red fingernail at him. “I don’t know what this is about but I haven’t broken any laws.”
Grant kept his face devoid of expression. “No one’s accusing you of anything. But you should know that your daughter has been the object of certain threats.”
“What kind of threats?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Why don’t we discuss this in a more private place?”
“No thanks. As you can see, the lobby is empty. We can talk right here. Besides, I really have nothing to say.”
“Fine.”
They sat opposite each other on dated green Danish modern chairs.
“You think I had something to do with threatening Jennifer?”
“I don’t know. Did you?”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“What about your friend? Frank is it? Weren’t you both expecting your daughter to give you some money?”
Sara Morrow stood up, folding her arms over her ample chest. “I don’t like what you’re implying. Of course, I expected my daughter to share the inheritance my mother left her with me. It was my mother after all. I can only assume she wasn’t in her right mind at the time she had that crooked lawyer draw up a new will leaving everything to Jennifer. The whole thing is crazy. Frank thinks I should challenge the will. I think he’s right. Sure I got irritated when Jen refused to share with me. Wouldn’t anybody?”
“Ms. Morrow, you should know that your daughter hasn’t inherited anything as yet. She won’t unless she lives in the Pritchard house for two years. Were you aware of that fact?”
“I need money now,” she said, “not in the future.”
Grant stood to his full six foot three inch height, towering over Sara Morrow. He was aware that she hadn’t actually answered his question.
“Planning to stay in town?”
“Absolutely.”
“Why? Are you planning on harassing your daughter?”
“Why I’m here has nothing to do with you. I’ve done nothing illegal.” She placed her hands on her hips.
“Best to keep a distance from your daughter.” With that, he turned and left the motel lobby.
Maryann frowned at her laptop. Nothing new in her emails. There were certain times of the year when job hunting was hardly worth the bother. August seemed to be one of them. Executives were on vacation. Things had slowed down at a lot of companies. Workers chose to do the bare minimum. It would pick up in September. She’d find a new position when she returned to the city. She wouldn’t confine her search to Big Pharma either. She’d contacted headhunters who seemed positive they could help. No guarantees but she preferred to maintain a positive outlook.
“Anything?” Jen stood out in the hallway outside her bedroom door.
“No, not yet.”
Jen provided a reassuring smile. “I wish you didn’t have to go back to New York at all. I’d like it if you could stay right here with us. Aaron loves you and so do I.”
Maryann stood up and hugged her friend. “It’s nice to be appreciated. I wish I could afford to stay longer but it isn’t possible.”
“I’m going up to the attic. I remember going up there as a child. There are lots of interesting things lying about. Want to join me?”
“All right. Where’s Aaron?”
Jen made a face. “Would you believe he’s gone swimming with the Higgins family? They belong to a club and offered to include him. Aaron was delighted.”
“I’ll bet.”
As Maryann followed her friend up the steep, creaky staircase that led to the old mansion’s attic, she felt a sense of unease. The place certainly had atmosphere. Maybe a little too much. She shivered.
“There’s a lot of wonderful stuff in the attic. I used to love to play dress up here as a kid. There are chests full of amazing old clothes. As I recall there are some Tiffany lamps and Wedgwood vases. I’d love to sell off some of it to an antique dealer. But they’re not mine as yet.”
“They will be yours eventually,” Maryann said.
Jen moved her head from side to side. “Two years is a long time. We’ll see.”
Maryann stepped fully into the attic and blinked, adjusting her eyes to the darkened room. She was greeted by dust and decay. She pushed away some cobwebs as she sought the treasures Jen expected to find.
She was drawn to a trunk in the corner. The workmanship, exquisite and ornate, had endured. Quite an exotic piece. “I’d like a look at this.”
“Feel free to explore,” Jen said.
Maryann opened the chest. It smelled of mothballs, not the most pleasant odor in the world. But she was rewarded with several lovely hand-made quilts, one a patchwork, the other a floral design.
“These are a delight.”
Jen looked over at the quilts Maryann held up. “They’ve been in the family forever and are very well-preserved.”
“I’m really into folk art,” Maryann said.
“Then you’ve come to the right place. Lots of history here. Family secrets as well.”
“Do tell.” Maryann raised an eyebrow with interest. “Anything you care to share?”
“My grandmother knew it all, not me.”
“Did she keep a diary?”
“I think she did as a matter of fact, but I have no idea where it is. I’ve staye
d out of her old room, maybe as a sign of respect.”
“My parents enjoyed antiquing. When I was little I’d go along with them. I learned a lot about antiques from them.”
Jen looked up from the delicate china cups she was examining. “I didn’t know that.”
“Most interesting by far is the length that crooks will go to put one over on unsuspecting buyers. It’s like art forgery fakes. They use a lot of high tech these days to perpetrate frauds.”
Jen tossed back her head of wavy auburn hair. “That’s why provenance is so important.”
Maryann put down the quilts lost in thought. “You can’t always get the provenance at auctions or estate sales.”
“You’re right.”
Maryann looked deeper into the trunk. There were women’s clothes all neatly packed away. Most of them had yellowed with age, but they were period clothing of fine quality. At the bottom, wrapped snugly in fine linen was a beautiful gown. It looked like a ball gown of some sort and strangely it appeared as if it were new, as if it had never aged at all. She was intrigued by it. She brought it out and held it up by the window to see it better. The style was Victorian, a silk and satin confection with seed pearls generously sewn into the bodice. It appeared to be pure white. With it was a gossamer snowy veil. So this was someone’s wedding dress. The workmanship was incredible. She’d never seen anything more beautiful in her life. The gown shimmered with an unearthly glow as ethereal as a moonbeam. When she shook it out, something fell to the floor. It too was carefully wrapped so as to preserve it. With careful hands, she gently rolled back the linen binding the object.
A doll! But not an ordinary doll. No, this doll was vivid and alive in looks. It too appeared Victorian in design. Golden hair and bright blue eyes that glowed with ethereal light. Just amazing! Even more remarkable, the doll was dressed in a wedding gown which seemed to be a perfect replica of the one she’d been examining. Someone had a remarkable talent with needle and thread.
“Wow, did you ever see this before?”
Jen give a quick nod. “I have. I even asked my grandmother about it. She told me to leave it alone. Apparently, it has a sad history. The girl who would have worn that wedding gown died shortly before the ceremony was to take place. There had been an influenza epidemic and she was one of the victims. In grief, her parents put the gown away. I guess the doll must have been an effigy of her. Probably those quilts were made for her wedding as well.”
The Inheritance Page 8