by Olivia Swift
“That will be payment enough.” She laughed. She reflected that Rob sometimes saw things that she did not. But he knows Carlo better than I do, she thought and gave him a call to tell him how smart he was.
2
Carlo suggested he would take his car, and for once Corby let herself be chauffeured. She settled into the seat and thanked him for taking the time.
“Corby Santana.” He turned in his seat. “How long have we been friends? We were next-door neighbors for years and years. My mama would come back and haunt me if I let you go by yourself.” He paused and grinned. “So, sit back; let yourself be looked after, and enjoy an afternoon off.” She grinned at him, and it transformed her features. He thought that she did not know how lovely she looked.
“Okay, bossy boots. Take me to this blessed lawyer and let me find out the worst.” He drove away and asked her if she had any idea where this house might be. Corby shook her head.
“I haven’t seen him since I was about eight years old. I bet your mama would remember him if she was here.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I still miss her.”
“She taught you all the skills you needed to make those wonderful quilts.” He paused. “And you are better than your teacher. She would be thrilled to see people enthusing over them in the garden store.” They spent most of the journey reminiscing about the old days, and then she asked how he knew this lawyer.
“Play golf with him,” he admitted and waited for her reaction.
“Golf? You? But you hated sports. Hated every sport that ever was invented.” Carlo had the grace to laugh and admit she was right.
“I was forced by a company to spend a weekend in one of those bonding things. It was torture apart from the golf.” He laughed. “I found I had an aptitude and beat everyone there. They didn’t bond with me. I could feel the knives between my shoulder blades with every swing.” The story made Corby laugh, and by the time they reached the office, she was happy and relaxed to a degree she had not thought possible.
On top of that, Joe Garcia was not like any lawyer she had met before. The office was up quite a seedy staircase.
“Are you sure this is right?” she asked Carlo, and he grinned.
“Joe is successful at getting folk acquitted—whether they should be or not.“ He stopped on the first landing. “The place is a mess, but his brain is like a computer,” he paused, “and he is easy to like.”
Joe Garcia was indeed unlike any other lawyer she had ever met. He leapt up to meet them from behind a desk heaped with papers and files. The furniture was old and battered, and it looked as if he would never find anything in the office ever again.
“You must be Corby,” he said and shook her hand. “And you are that awful guy that wins money from me by cheating on the golf course. How do you two know each other?” The two men gave each other one of those man hugs, and the three of them sat down. “I guess you must have been surprised by the letter.” Corby agreed that she had and explained that Carlo was an old family friend. To save her the trouble of talking about it, Carlo gave a brief account of her ex-husband and who he was.
“Lawyers have not been good news in the past,” he finished. Joe Garcia nodded and recognized the name.
“He is in jail where he should be.” He paused. “This is your inheritance. It has nothing to do with him. I would guess that eventually he’ll hear about it and try to get back into your life. I know these villains in society so well. I see them every day. Remember that the law will be on your side.” He glanced at her. “I really mean that. You can call anytime.” He handed her a business card with his cell phone number. “Now let’s get down to the good stuff.” He flicked open a folder and took out legal documents. “This is quite an unusual bequest.”
Garcia paused for dramatic effect and told them that she had inherited a house, a small amount of money, and one other thing. He produced a small box and handed it over. Corby drew out a small pendant made of turquoise and silver on a silver chain.
“This is beautiful,” she said.
“After his death, we were contacted to find you and tell you the news of the will.” He looked at the papers and read, ‘This is my mother’s necklace, and it has to be passed to the next female in line. I have never been able to use it and have no children of my own. My brother had a granddaughter called Corby, and she is the only person who can wear this jewelry. I wish her love, success, and happiness.' Corby clutched the pendant to her chest and tears welled in her eyes. Carlo reached across and laid his hand on her arm. Garcia pushed a box of tissues across his desk. “You’d be surprised how much emotion we see in here,” he added. He then showed them the address of the house, the amount of money, and said he could transfer the cash to her bank account. “Minus my small fee.” He laughed.
“I’ll win it back for you,” Carlo joked and made Corby smile.
“I don’t know what to say,” Corby stammered. “What do I do next?” He found the deeds to the house, formalized the ownership, and handed her the keys. Garcia asked for her bank details and transferred the money.
“That is it,” he told her. “You own a house, and your bank balance is a little bit better.”
“And I have this lovely necklace. Thank you, Mr. Garcia.”
“It’s Joe,” he told her. “And I mean it. Just call if you need help.” After a few more details, they stood up and shook hands.
“Thanks, Joe. I’ll see you Sunday,” Carlo added. They climbed down the seedy staircase to the sidewalk outside. “I know I’m being bossy again, but I am taking you for a coffee till we decide what you need to do.” Corby was still astounded at what had happened and was still speechless when she sat with a latte and muffin in front of her.
“It is quite unbelievable,” she managed at last. “It’s like something from a fairy tale.” Carlo grinned.
“The princess finds a castle, and the handsome prince staves off the dragons and claims his reward.”
“I am so glad you came with me.” She smiled. “Garcia was a pussycat and not a dragon.”
“He can be a dragon in court,” Carlo told her. “He has folks quaking in their boots.” He looked at her. “Shall we go and find this house of yours?”
“I suppose I should see what it is like and if it needs anything done to it.”
“You could rent it out,” he told her. “You know me and spreadsheets. I can sort out the costs for you.”
“Okay. I should be decisive. Let’s go and see how bad it is.” Carlo laughed and pulled her to her feet.
“It might be good, you know.”
“I have learned that whenever it is good, life lets you down with a bump.” Carlo stopped her in the street and turned her toward him.
“You have me, Mario, and our family, Kim, and all of her family and friends, as well as Garcia now. You are not on your own, Corby. Life can be great.” He held her shoulders and she dropped her head against his chest.
“I know you are right, and I love my new life. I’m just scared it won’t last.” He kissed her on the forehead.
“Have I ever let you down?” he asked. She shook her head and smiled.
“Your mama would haunt you if you did.” He took her hand, and they headed for the car. Things seemed a lot better, and she was beginning to feel positive. They put the address in the GPS, and as they got near to the house, both of them felt a sort of rising excitement. The GPS led them out of the urban sprawl of town houses and onto a country road. They passed two or three other houses and small farms and drew up at the gates of what once had been a farm. They both gazed in amazement. It was a pretty farmstead with verandas and plants climbing up the posts that framed the steps to the doorway. The paint was reasonably up to date and the grass had been cut fairly recently. Corby went to open the gate and closed it again after Carlo drove in. There were no other vehicles. The place was peaceful and quiet.
“It’s a pretty house that must have been a farm once upon a time,” Corby remarked and Carlo nodded. “I’m glad I am not o
n my own though,” she added. Carlo took her hand as they went up the steps.
“Let’s see what it’s like inside.” She took the bunch of keys and found the one for the door. It swung open and Corby screamed. Carlo grabbed her and pushed her behind him as the figure of a man loomed up in the hallway.
“Who the hell are you?” Carlo demanded and used a hand to prevent Corby from coming forward. The man was large and quite forbidding, and he stepped back as they waited for his reply. He held up his hands in a sort of apologetic way and tried a smile. Carlo was not to be satisfied with that. He had pulled out his cell phone with one hand and was about to press the emergency number when the man answered.
“I’m sorry you got a shock. I look after the place and was just checking to see if everything is okay. You must be the new owners.” His voice was reasonable, and he moved backward into the kitchen area as he spoke, to give them more space. Carlo and Corby both relaxed and followed him into the room. He held out a hand. “I’m Jim Maddon. My house is across the field at the back. It’s easier to walk across than to drive around the road.”
“Carlo Sanchez and Corby Santana,” Carlo answered and shook the offered hand. Corby did the same and they explained that Corby had inherited the place from her great-uncle, and she was just having a look for the first time.
“If I can be of any help, just let me know. Your uncle didn’t live here. He rented it out and paid me a small amount to cut the grass and make sure the maintenance was done.” Corby sat on a kitchen chair and asked him to sit down and tell them about her uncle.
“I haven’t seen him since I was a little girl. This is a complete surprise to me.”
“He was a good man. He had a small house in a town about two hours’ drive away. It was rented and suited him as he got older and more frail.” He smiled. “He always said that the house had to be passed down through the women of the family, and he was just a caretaker. I never understood about that, but he insisted that it was right.” Corby closed her hand around the pendant that was in her jacket pocket and felt warmth from the stone. Jim handed her a card.
“My number,” he said and stood up. “If you need help with anything around the place, just give me a call. I’ll leave you to look around.” As he opened the rear door he said over his shoulder, “Hard to get good tenants. None of them seemed to stay long. Would rather be in town, I guess. Glad to meet you both.” He left them in the kitchen looking at each other.
3
“Whew,” Corby said. “That was a fright, and I am not sure I liked Mr. Maddon.”
Carlo pulled her up from the chair. “Come on, Corbs. Let’s see the rest of it. He did give us a bit of a shock—perhaps that’s all it was.” The kitchen was quite large. The house was furnished with the basics but without bed linen, towels, and personal things, but good enough to be rented out.
“It could be a lovely house if it was filled with the right things—pictures, ornaments, throws,” she remarked.
“Needs a brand-new kitchen,” Carlo added, “and a bathroom.” He smiled as they looked in there as well. “Good-sized rooms.” They checked out three bedrooms and looked up the small staircase that went to the second floor. “Spooky attic,” he added and grinned as he took the stairs two at a time, opening the door to a huge attic room that went the length of the house. There were two skylight windows, and the room was surprisingly pleasant.
“This is a super room,” Corby said and stretched to look out of the window. There was a wooden chair in the corner, so Carlo dragged it over so that she could stand and see out.
“Have a look,” she said. “That must be Mr. Maddon’s house across the field.” He climbed on the chair and looked over the landscape.
“There are at least three houses nearby, so it is not isolated.” As he stepped, down he asked what she thought.
“It’s a nice house. What I will do with it, I have no idea.” Back in the kitchen they opened the door and stepped out onto the back porch. A rickety, old rocking chair sat forlornly by itself, and once upon a time there must have been a garden. “It’s sort of sad, Carlo. Nobody has loved it for a long time.”
“Do you want to modernize it and give it some care?” he asked and opened another cupboard as she answered that it was too far from work to live in, but she felt that she should keep it for her uncle’s sake.
“Wow, look Corbs,” he said. “It has a cellar.” Steps led away into darkness and she shivered, but he found a light switch, and they climbed down the stairs. With bright, electric lights all over the cellar, it was not spooky at all. It ran under the whole house and was in a sort of curved shape because the stone pillars that held up the building divided the area. The two of them gazed around and ventured into the middle of the room. The usual old lengths of wood, workbenches, and rusty garden tools lay around, but there was nothing to say that the place was used for anything. The old furnace that once upon a time had heated the house was disconnected and silent.
“Nothing unusual, I suppose,” Corby said in a quiet voice. “Don’t know why I’m whispering.” She laughed but took a step nearer to Carlo and shivered.
“The only unusual thing about this place is that somebody has been digging holes in the floor,” Carlo pointed out. They searched around and found at least six holes hacked into the concrete of the cellar floor.
“Weird,” Corby answered, and as her hand closed over the pendant, she felt that warmth again. “I would like to get back to daylight, please.” They closed the cellar door and took a final look at the house.
They had stepped outside and locked the front door when a small car came into the entrance beside the gate, and a good-looking woman of about forty jumped out and came to meet them.
“They are all on the lookout around here,” Carlo muttered under his breath but held out a hand. The woman was cheerful, friendly, and dressed in quite expensive, fashionable clothes for a house out in the countryside. She said she was Caroline Macvay and that hers was the next bungalow down the road.
“I thought you must be the next owner.” She smiled brightly at Carlo. “Had to just say welcome and introduce myself.” Carlo said that he was not the owner, but Corby gave her name and a brief outline of why she was there.
“I’m glad you are the owner and not another tenant,” Caroline answered. “There have been some strange ones over the last two or three years.”
“This came out of the blue, and I haven’t decided what to do with the place yet. I hadn’t seen my great-uncle since I was a small girl,” Corby added.
“We met Mr. Maddon,” Carlo said. “He was inside when we arrived. Gave us quite a fright.” A frown crossed Caroline’s face and she hesitated.
“I would change the locks,” she finally advised. “I just feel that he took advantage of the old gentleman and treated the place as his own. Mr. Santana was a lovely, old guy and accepted him at face value, but I rather think that some of the tenants were friends of Mr. Maddon.” Then she smiled. “I am sorry to sound as if I gossip about people, but I just thought to mention it.”
“Thanks for your help,” Corby told her. “I was not taken with the man anyway, and I think we will change the locks.”
Carlo held the gate open for Caroline, and she ran her fingers over his arm with a smiling thank you. Corby felt a strange pang in her chest, as the woman obviously found Carlo attractive, and with one of those looks that some women use— she let him know. He straightened up, and Corby gave herself a mental shake. Carlo was a handsome man with his mop of dark, curly hair and intelligent, dark eyes.
The golf isn’t doing him any harm either; she mused, and without thinking about what she was doing, walked over and took his arm. Caroline drove away, and Carlo held the gate for Corby.
“I hate it when women do that come-on thing,” he said. “Didn’t take to her at all.”
“I thought it was my imagination.” Corby laughed and pointed out that the woman was actually quite pretty.
“Humph,” was all that Carlo
replied as he closed the car door with a bit of a slam and they set off.
“Mario has locks in the workshop,” he said. “I’ll find some and change them tomorrow if that is okay with you?” Corby said it would be fantastic but what about work. “My brother is a genius with practical things, and he leaves me most of the time in the office. I can catch up on anything later on.”
Back at the garden store, Kim was waiting impatiently to hear about the trip to the lawyer, and Corby felt a pang of guilt that she had been away so long.
“I am so sorry to be away all this time. I will make it up to you.”
“Never mind the time. What happened?” They told her everything from Joe Garcia to Caroline Macvay and described the house. Carlo had taken a couple of photos and showed them to her as well.
“I love it,” Kim said. “It could be a lovely family house.”
When Corby showed her the pendant, Kim thought it was beautiful and probably really old. She phoned Carly to see if she could leave the crystal shop for a little and come to look at the necklace. Carly had called Dex and before long, everyone was invited up to Chestnut Hall after work so that the story could be repeated yet again. Fifteen minutes later, Carly came into the coffee shop where they were congregated and took the turquoise and silver jewelry in her hand.
“Oh my,” she breathed. “This is really, really old and based on something with Aztec roots, I would guess. I think you should find a specialist and have it appraised. Turquoise is a great stone for protection,” she advised as they passed the necklace around.
Carlo left to get back to his office but said he would see them later, and Corby caught up with changes in the crafting section. There was a lot to think about and then a drive home to find something to wear to go to Chestnut Hall. When she was pulling things at random out of the closet, her phone rang, and Carlo asked if she would like to be picked up as he was coming past anyway. When she finished the call, it suddenly seemed more important to find the right thing to wear.