“Why don’t you two have a seat?” he said, gesturing to the two navy blue pinstriped wingback chairs in front of his desk.
I let Rose take a seat first, then I sat next to her, worried by the attorney’s somber countenance. I knew he was a probate attorney, accustomed to dealing with grieving families, but he seemed far more serious than I’d expected.
He sat in his own chair and folded his hands on the desk. “Rose, first I want to tell you how sad I am over your sister’s passing. She told me she didn’t have long, but I’d hoped she’d have longer than this.”
“Thank you,” Rose said with a small nod.
He hesitated, as though not sure what to say next, then opened a manila folder that sat on the desk in front of him.
“As you likely knew, Violet made some changes to her will after she came home from Texas.” He picked up some of the papers in front of him. “First, Violet willed your shared childhood home back to you.”
Rose’s mouth dropped open. “She said she wanted me to manage it for the kids. She never once said she was giving it to me.”
He cleared his throat. “We discussed several possible ways she could handle the situation, and she ultimately decided this was the easiest way for you to manage the property, whether it be to fix it up and sell it or rent it out as income.”
Rose shook her head as though trying to clear it. “Is there an account for me to put the proceeds in for the kids? Does Mike have any claim to it?”
“The answer to your first question is no. It’s totally up to you what to do with the money. There’s no stipulation that you give any of the money to the kids. Which means the answer to your second question is that Mike has no say in it whatsoever.”
Rose stared at him wide-eyed. “Why would she do that?”
His lips pursed and he glanced down at the will. “She’s named you guardian to the children should anything happen to Mike.”
“Well, yes,” Rose said. “She and Mike did that when they were married.”
“You’re right,” he said. “But Mike changed the guardian in his will to his parents.”
Given the way Mike had turned on her, that shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but there was no denying the hurt on her face.
“Prior to their divorce,” Mr. Gilliam continued, “they had it set up so all of their assets would go into a trust. But Violet revised her will to make you the beneficiary of nearly all of her assets—her house, a fifty-thousand-dollar life insurance policy, and a checking and small savings account.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Rose insisted. “The money should go to her children.” She sat back in her chair as though taking it in. “Did she leave anything to the kids?”
“A few things were mentioned—some jewelry for Ashley. A watch that had belonged to your father for Mikey.”
“No real money?” Rose asked in shock, then she turned to face me. “Was she worried Mike would spend it on something else? Does he have some secret booty call girlfriend that Vi was worried would steal the kids’ money?”
I shook my head, just as confused as she was. “I haven’t heard any rumors about Mike’s love life at all. I’m not sure he has one.” I turned to face the attorney. “Did she say why she set it up that way?”
His mouth twisted and he looked uncomfortable. “She was adamant that Mike get absolutely none of her money. Not one penny. She felt the best way to keep him from going after it was to give everything to you, Rose.”
“What about her share of the nursery?” Rose asked. “Did she split her portion between me and Joe?”
He turned his attention to me. “No. She gave her share of the nursery to Neely Kate.”
“What?” I gasped.
Mr. Gilliam gave me an understanding look. “She said you’d appreciate the business more than her children would. Her only request—and it’s not a stipulation—is that Joe give his portion to the children if they want a share in the ownership after they graduate from high school.” He tilted his head to the side. “But there’s no way to legally enforce that. It’s simply a request.”
“He’ll do it,” Rose said in a quiet voice. “He’d move heaven and earth for those kids.”
Mr. Gilliam nodded with a kind expression. “Violet seemed to think he’d be agreeable as well.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Why would she do this?”
The attorney’s face softened. “She left each of you a letter she said would help explain things.”
Rose’s smile faded and tears filled her eyes. I could only imagine what she was thinking—it would be bittersweet to read a letter from Violet.
“Violet said she wanted Rose to do something hard,” I said. “She asked me to help her through it. Is that covered in her letters?”
He shifted in his seat as he stared down at the now-empty folder. Pulling his shoulders back, he looked Rose in the eye. “I’m not privy to the contents of her letters, but I need to tell you that there was—is—something else. Violet brought me a sealed envelope with the instruction that Rose should open it upon her death. She alluded to the envelope’s importance, which is why I kept it in our safe.”
“So where’s the envelope?” I asked, dread making my stomach sink to my feet.
He sucked in a breath and licked his bottom lip, clearly not wanting to answer my question. But he finally lifted his gaze, guilt filling his eyes. “Our office was broken into this weekend. We didn’t even notice until late Monday afternoon, and we didn’t realize anything was missing until we went to retrieve the envelope this afternoon.”
“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “Are you tellin’ us it’s gone?”
“Yes. I’m afraid so. My assistant called the police to add it to the break-in report that was filed on Monday, and they assure me they’re working on it. I would have alerted you sooner, but nothing else was missing. We thought it was a random break-in.”
“What was in the envelope?” Rose asked, her earlier fragility now gone. She was the strong tough woman I usually knew her to be.
“I’m not sure,” Mr. Gilliam said, his cheeks pinkening. “She only told me it contained information that would have ramifications on the will.”
I turned to Rose in surprise. “What in the world could it have been?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “but we both know something’s been off with Mike. And after he started lettin’ me see the kids again, I wondered…” I knew what she was thinking. A couple of months ago, Skeeter Malcolm had told Rose he would make sure Mike stopped giving her a hard time about seeing the kids, and we’d both wondered how he’d make that happen. Did Mike and Skeeter Malcolm had some kind of underhanded connection? Had Violet found out and provided evidence for Rose to take to the sheriff after her death?
“Who investigated the break-in?” I asked, although I suspected I knew the answer.
“The Henryetta Police,” Mr. Gilliam said. “They didn’t seem all that concerned, truth be told.”
I slipped my phone out of my purse. “Of course they didn’t. I’m bringin’ in the real detectives.”
“Who are you calling?” Mr. Gilliam asked, sounding worried.
“The chief deputy sheriff.”
Joe showed up about ten minutes later looking fit to be tied. He scanned Mr. Gilliam’s office, looking for Rose. “Where is she?”
“The bathroom,” I said. “She said she needed a minute to get herself together.”
Joe turned to the distraught attorney. “I need you to tell me everything that happened. From the beginning.”
Mr. Gilliam nodded, but his skin was dotted with perspiration and his skin was pale. He clearly wasn’t too eager to talk to Joe.
“Maybe we should get Mr. Gilliam some water,” I said, then turned to the shaken attorney. “Why don’t you have a seat, Mr. Gilliam, and I’ll ask your secretary to get you some?”
“I’m his personal assistant,” the woman called out from the foyer. “And I don’t get coffee.”
&nbs
p; “I’m not askin’ you for coffee,” I hollered to her. “I’m askin’ for some water.”
“I don’t get that either.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh for heaven’s sake. I’ll get it myself.”
“There are bottles of water in the fridge in the back,” Mr. Gilliam said, laying his head down on his desk.
“There’s no reason to be upset,” I heard Joe tell the older gentleman in a kind voice as I walked out the office door. “You’re not in trouble here, but I need to hear everything from you, not the Henryetta police report.”
I hurried down the hall toward the back of the building and found a small breakroom. The refrigerator was stocked with bottles of water so I grabbed several and started to hurry back to Mr. Gilliam’s office, worried I’d miss something important. Still, I couldn’t help but notice the back door wasn’t some flimsy piece of particle board—it was steel and had a deadbolt.
When I got back to Mr. Gilliam’s office, the attorney’s cheek was still resting on his blotter pad, but his color was returning to normal.
“Here you go, Mr. Gilliam,” I said, setting a bottle of water on his desk. I set the others on one of the bookshelves and moved to the back of the room, hoping Joe wouldn’t kick me out.
The attorney sat up and reached for the bottle. “Thank you, Neely Kate.”
He unscrewed the cap and took a swig of water, then said, “I can’t believe this has happened. Violet couldn’t stress enough the importance of the contents of that envelope. I should have checked the safe, but I—”
He stopped talking when a man called out, “Henryetta’s finest, comin’ through.”
“Officer Ernie,” I heard Rose say from the small waiting room. “What a surprise.” Only she didn’t sound very surprised.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding equally unhappy, not that I blamed him. Rose usually ended up causing him all kinds of trouble, but truth be told, he usually brought it upon himself.
Rose slipped into the room seconds before the police officer’s lanky frame filled the office doorway. I didn’t need to ask why she looked so irritated. If Officer Ernie had taken the report, Mr. Gilliam might as well have had a kindergartner do it.
Officer Ernie hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. “Simmons, what’s so important I had to give up a ham sandwich to come over here?”
Joe gave the officer a deep scowl. “Did you investigate the break-in at Mr. Gilliam’s law office that occurred this weekend?”
“No,” Officer Ernie said with a haughty look.
Joe’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? Then why is your name on the report?”
“Because I worked it up.”
Disgust washed over Joe’s face. “I just asked you if you investigated.”
“No,” Officer Ernie said in a slow drawl. “You asked if I’d investigated this weekend. I didn’t work on it until Monday afternoon.”
Joe looked like he wanted to wring the man’s neck, but instead, he ran a hand over his head. “That’s not—” He dropped his hand and pushed out a sigh, likely realizing it was pointless to argue with him. “What did you find in your investigation?”
“It looked like the back door had been pried open.”
Joe waited a couple of seconds, then tilted his head forward. “Anything else?”
“Nope.”
“Did you conduct an actual investigation, Officer?” Joe asked in a stern tone.
Officer Ernie shrugged, his lips pursed. “I took a look around. The computers and the TV were all still here so I wrote up a report and we decided it was just some kids goofin’ around.”
“Did you dust for prints?” Joe asked.
“Nope.”
Joe turned to the attorney behind him. “Did you get the door fixed?”
He nodded. “Yes, right away. The locksmith came out less than an hour after the officer finished.”
“And did you search your office for anything amiss?” Joe asked him.
“Yes,” Mr. Gilliam said, then took a big gulp of his water. “But like I told you earlier, I didn’t find anything missing until today.” He looked like he was about to throw up. “I checked the safe to see if it had been disturbed, but it was still locked up tight.” He swallowed. “I should have been more thorough.”
“You didn’t know,” Joe said kindly. “And most thieves aren’t polite enough to close up a safe after they break in.”
I shot a glance to Rose. The look on her face suggested that we were both thinking the same thing—whoever took the envelope had been hoping to buy some time before it was discovered missing.
Chapter 6
Joe grilled Officer Ernie for a few more minutes before he grew exasperated enough with the incompetent officer to send him on his way. Although it was likely too late to do us any good, he called a forensics team to check the back door for prints.
“Mr. Gilliam,” Joe said, once Officer Ernie had left the building. “Was anything else missing from the safe?”
“No. Only the envelope,” the older man said, becoming dismayed again.
“Surely you had some idea what was in it,” Rose said. “She didn’t leave a single penny to her children. Didn’t you question that?” She’d remained silent, letting Joe run the show, but it looked like she was done with that. I expected Joe to become aggravated with her butting into a now-official sheriff investigation, but he stepped to the side as she moved up next to him.
“She told me she had her reasons,” the attorney said. “And the envelope was already sealed when she brought it to me. It’s not unusual for clients to keep private information to themselves.”
“You must have felt it,” Joe prodded. “Was it papers? Or maybe something else in it?”
“It was light,” he said. “It felt like a thumb drive.”
“A thumb drive?” Rose said. “What was on it?”
“I already told you that I don’t know. She didn’t tell me.”
“How many people know the combination to your safe?” Joe asked.
The attorney’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me. My wife.”
“What about your secretary?” Joe asked.
“Stacy?” Mr. Gilliam asked. “No.”
“So just the two of you?” Joe asked.
“Well…my brother, but he has a key to the building. He wouldn’t need to break in, and he wouldn’t. He’s as honest as they come.”
“Does your brother work here?” Joe asked.
“Mark?” The attorney laughed. “No. He’s a postal worker.”
“Does he use the safe very often?”
“No. Never. I only told him the combination in case something should happen to me and Iona, my wife.”
“Where is the safe?” Joe asked.
“Behind you,” Mr. Gilliam said. “Behind the painting.” His cheeks turned pink. “Cliché, I know, but…”
Joe turned around and walked toward the landscape painting, complete with cattle and a shepherd. “How often do you open it?”
“It varies,” the older gentleman said. “Sometimes several times in one week. Sometimes every few weeks.”
“And when was the last time you checked the safe?” Joe asked. “The last time you saw Violet’s envelope?”
He cringed. “A couple of weeks ago. I remember seeing it then.”
“So the envelope might not have been stolen in the break-in,” Rose said. “For all we know, it could have been stolen a while ago and the timing could be a coincidence.”
Joe cast her a glance. “That is possible, but I’m inclined to think the envelope was stolen over the weekend after Violet died. By someone who knew she was releasing incriminating information after her death.” He turned to Mr. Gilliam. “Who else knew she had information about Mike?”
“I don’t know,” the attorney said. “But I was inclined to think she hadn’t told anyone.”
A dark look washed over Joe’s face. “We’ll have the team dust for prints on the safe as well.”
“Do you r
eally think you’ll find any?” I asked.
“No,” Joe said with a frown. “I’m sure they’ll have covered their tracks, but we can hope.” He turned back to Mr. Gilliam. “Surely Violet told you what she expected Rose to do with the thumb drive.”
“She said Rose would know what to do with it. I think Violet left Rose all of her assets to help her with whatever was on it, but she never admitted to it, and I did ask.”
Joe’s eyes widened as he turned to Rose. “Violet left you everything?”
“Everything except for her share of the nursery,” she said. “She left that to Neely Kate.”
“Did you know she was gonna do that?” Joe asked.
“No. Not a clue.”
He pivoted to face me. “Did you?”
I shook my head. “No. And it doesn’t feel right takin’ Ashley and Mikey’s inheritance.”
“She wanted you to have it,” Rose said. “Joe, she asked that you give your portion to the kids when they turn eighteen, but only if they want it.”
Surprise widened his eyes, but he quickly said, “Of course. It’s theirs now as far as I’m concerned, but it sounds like Violet was protectin’ the kids’ inheritance.” He swung back to face the attorney with a questioning look.
“You’re right about that part,” Mr. Gilliam said. “She was adamant about keeping her money away from Mike. She insisted it would all go to Rose with the exception of the nursery. Then she reiterated that Rose would know what to do with the contents of the envelope.”
“Did she leave any other instructions?” Joe asked.
Rose gasped. “She might have said something in the letters.”
Mr. Gilliam looked like he just remembered them. He flipped through the papers in the folder, removing three long, thin white envelopes. “There’s one for you too, Deputy Simmons.” He handed each of us an envelope and the only sound in the room was tearing paper.
I removed the sheet of stationery and read the handwritten letter.
Dear Neely Kate,
Dirty Money Page 5