Her Deadly Inheritance

by Beth Ann Ziarnik

Thank God, she was safe now, and Carver would never kill again.

  Jill clutched his sleeve, her trusting eyes seeking his. “How do I tell my uncle that his son is dead, that he murdered his sister and tried to kill me? I can’t do that to him.”

  Clay cradled her head between his hands and wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, leaving streaks of soot. If only he could find a way to spare her what waited for them when they joined the others. No family, no community, wanted to know they had harbored a killer in their midst. Or that the outsider they had learned to trust had really come among them to take vengeance.

  “We have to tell the truth, Jill. It’s the only way.”

  Tell the truth and trust God. Both Janice and his grandmother would recommend that.

  “I can’t bear what it will do to Uncle Drew. To Tia. Even Lenore. I wish I had never come back.” She began to cry again.

  A hot iron lodged in his chest.

  “Don’t ever say that, Jill.” If she hadn’t come, he would never have known her. He would never have regained his relationship with God. “But you’re right. Bradwell is a decent man. He doesn’t deserve what his son’s choices brought on him and his family.”

  She clutched his shirt. “Will anyone believe us?”

  God, that’s up to you. And they would need the best help heaven could offer.

  He wrapped her softness in his arms. “We’ll do what we can to make them believe. Your family. The sheriff. Everyone.”

  How hard he had tried to save her from this moment. Now, all he could do was take what was coming to him and shield her the best he could within the bounds of truth.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and directed her gaze toward the fire. He took her hand and led her toward Windtop’s open lawns.

  Please, God, not for my sake. But for hers.

  Lenore’s guests stood a distance from the roaring inferno, gripped in a shocked hush. Flames had breached the roof and poured into the night through the third-floor windows. A piercing wail rose into the starlit night.

  Lenore.

  Jill cringed. Chilled shivers broke out on her back. Clay’s strong hand held hers as she surged ahead, making her way to the front of the crowd where her family huddled.

  Her aunt clutched Tia’s arm and shrieked in a keening wail. The girl tried to comfort her mother while the family doctor prepared a syringe. Leo stayed at Tia’s side.

  As Jill reached them, Uncle Drew pulled Sam aside. “What did you say to my wife?”

  “Well, sir.” Sam furrowed his brow. “I saw a dead man in the entrance hall.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, sir. The railing above broke and he fell. I couldn’t get in, but even if I had, it wouldn’t have done any good. The fire was already bad.” Sam lowered his head. “Mr. Bradwell, I think that man was your son.”

  Her uncle stared as if trying to understand, and then bent his head.

  Jill plucked at his sleeve. “Uncle Drew. I’m so sorry.”

  His brow crinkled as he looked from her to Clay. When Clay nodded, her uncle’s face turned pale, then greenish. His gaze settled on her.

  “Jill, your arms. Your neck. They’re bruised. Who did that?”

  How could she tell him? The ache in her heart robbed her of adequate words.

  Uncle Drew’s shoulders slumped. “It was Carver, wasn’t it? What happened?”

  “We fought, sir,” Clay volunteered.

  “About what?” He looked from Clay to her.

  Jill stepped closer to her uncle. “I discovered that he’d been stealing from Windtop, and he didn’t want anyone else to know.”

  A gasping sob choked her uncle, drawing Lenore’s attention. The woman’s frenzied gaze swept Jill from head to foot.

  With a horrible screech, her aunt tore away from the doctor and swooped down on her. She gripped the skirt of Jill’s soot-sullied gown. “You set our house on fire. You left our son to die!”

  An unearthly wail from deep within her aunt sailed into the night air and careened into a livid rage.

  Jill backed away, but Lenore held tight. Clay stepped between them and gripped her aunt’s wrist, prying the woman’s fingers from the ruined dress.

  Lenore’s gaze raked his disheveled shirt and soot-smeared face. “You killed him. You both killed him.”

  With Uncle Drew’s help, the doctor took her aunt’s arm and injected the sedative. As it took effect, her voice turned to a moan. “Murderers! Murderers! You’ll pay.”

  Uncle Drew eased his wife away. She slumped against him. “They killed him, Drew,” she whimpered. “I saw them. I saw them do it.”

  “No, dear. You didn’t see anything. You were with me.”

  A classic town car screeched to a gravelly halt, and Kitty’s son bounded out from the driver’s seat to open the back door.

  “But they did it, Drew. They killed our son. They set our beautiful house on fire.” Lenore’s voice died. Uncle Drew helped her into the car’s back seat where she lay down with her head on his lap. The doctor leaped into the front passenger seat.

  As the car drove away, Tia sidled up. “Jill, you didn’t—” she asked, barely above a whisper. “Did you?”

  Jill put an arm around her cousin. “No, but we were in the house with Carver.”

  Her cousin’s brown eyes searched hers. “What really happened?”

  “I think …” O Lord, please help me tell the truth without causing her unnecessary pain.“Your brother followed me into Windtop. We argued, and he accidentally upset the oil lamp and set the house on fire. I tried to escape, but he came after me and Clay stopped him.”

  Tia turned to Clay. “I thought you left for Chicago.”

  Clay released a heavy breath and lifted his head to meet the girl’s gaze. “I almost did, but I came back to make sure Jill was all right.”

  “How did you know she needed you?” Tia appeared to wrestle with the idea.

  “Yes, how did you know?” Jill asked.

  “I guess you’d have to say it was a God thing. I knew you needed me.”

  “But how did you find her?’ Tia scrunched her brow. “I mean, the security system was on.”

  “Your brother wasn’t the only one who knew about the forest entrance to the passageway. I reached the second floor just in time. We fought, and when he fell against the railing, it broke away. By that time, Jill and I had only moments to escape the fire.”

  Tia’s chin trembled. “Did my brother tell you he killed Aunt Susannah?”

  Jill sucked the night air. “You knew?”

  “If my brother knew a way past the security system, it only makes sense.” Silent tears leaked from Tia’s brown eyes.

  Leo put an arm around her cousin’s shoulders as the rising roar of tumbling lumber and brick pulled their attention to the house. The glowing framework of the upper floors caved in. Sparks and flame shot into the night and acrid smoke permeated the air.

  The horrific spectacle continued, and Jill held her cousin’s hand until the din of Windtop’s demise quieted. Jill had told Tia all she thought the girl could bear. Soon enough, the rest of the details would come to light, and none of their lives would ever be the same.

  Over the next week, the sheriff, the coroner, and the fire chief sorted out the details surrounding Carver’s death. They took pictures of the bruises on Jill’s neck and arms, questioned those at the scene, and searched Windtop’s ruins to confirm both the cause of the fire and the cause of death. In the end, they decided that no charges would be made. Once the necessary papers were signed, they released Carver’s remains for burial.

  In the meantime, with Lenore in the hospital under sedation, Jill stayed with Uncle Drew at his home in Munising where she could comfort Tia. When her aunt remained too ill to attend Carver’s funeral, Jill helped Uncle Drew and Tia with the arrangements.

  Now, standing beside her uncle and her cousin in the island cemetery, she shed no tears. Much as she wished none of this heart
ache had happened, it was over. There was no going back.

  A few family friends and business acquaintances gathered around them while the priest offered prayers at Carver’s grave site. They looked on with sadness as the remains of her mother’s killer were lowered into the earth only a few feet from her mother’s resting place.

  First her uncle, then Tia, and then she added one shovel full of dirt to the hole. Others did the same.

  Jill gazed at the dirt splattered casket. It was done now. She stepped away.

  Amelia whispered, “How are you doing?”

  “I’m all right.” Actually, she was relieved now that her mother’s murderer was no longer at large, and her family had no more need for secrets.

  Standing stiffly at the open grave, Jill clung to her one consolation. As difficult as it was, she had told her uncle and cousin and those in authority the whole story. Clay had done the same. Now, all she could do was keep loving and praying for them and herself. She could also finish grieving the loss of her mother with no more need for self-incrimination.

  Mourners began leaving, trickling away in groups of three or four. While Uncle Drew and Tia bid them good-bye, Jill carried a single red rose to her mother’s grave. Pressing a kiss to its soft petals, she placed it on the marker.

  Amelia touched her shoulder. “One day, you will see her again in heaven.”

  Jill nodded. All was now at rest between her mother and herself. Though these past weeks were anything but easy, Nona was right to insist she return.

  “Are you ready to go, Jill?” her uncle asked.

  She and Amelia followed him to the family car. They rode in silence except for Jill’s little gasp as the car turned, not toward Williams Landing, but toward Windtop.

  “A little unfinished business,” her uncle said.

  Charred ruins lay in stark contrast to the forest’s lush green. Gazing into the gaping, black hole that had once been Windtop, Jill recalled her laughter as a child in this house, her mother’s soft smile, and the twinkle in Maggie’s eyes as their beloved housekeeper shook a finger at her for some harmless mischief.

  She also recalled her aunt’s vicious wrangling, spawned by this inheritance, and her mother’s eventual withdrawal from Uncle Drew and his family. How sad. Then her own flight from the house and her mother’s tragic death in her absence brought more loss. Even her mother’s beautiful rose bush had perished in the blaze, never again to offer its rich, fragrant blossoms. And somewhere in those black ashes, Button had perished.

  Too numb to shed another tear, Jill crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders. Windtop’s destruction had also removed any chance she might discover who her father was. Perhaps that was the way the Lord wanted it.

  A shadow fell on the ground at her feet. Clay stood near, gazing at her with tender reserve and holding a scarred container in his hands.

  She offered him a sad smile and turned back to the charred ruins. “All your beautiful work destroyed.”

  He held out the container to her.

  She took the box from his hands and brushed a finger over the initials on its lid. Her mother’s journal box. “Where did you find it?”

  “The firemen found it lodged in the main chimney. It’s fireproof, so any papers in it most likely survived.” He shuffled his feet but made no effort to touch her.

  “Thank you.” She gazed into his sad eyes, her voice thick with emotion. Oh, Lord, where is he with you? No matter how long it took, she would never stop praying for him.

  Clutching the box, she turned blindly toward the gazebo, its boards still white beneath the summer sun. Inside, she sat on one of the built-in benches, staring at the box.

  Amelia was already seated in its cooling shade. “Are you going to open it?”

  Jill shook her head. “I don’t have the key. It was lost in the fire.”

  “Well, maybe a locksmith can help you.”

  Footsteps scuffed and clicked on the brick walkway. Tia stood at the gazebo’s entrance. “Can Dad and I join you?”

  Jill set the box aside while her cousin and uncle entered.

  Uncle Drew cleared his throat. “Jill, I want to thank you.”

  She blinked. “Thank me?”

  “Tia and I both want to thank you. Carver is gone, and my wife is in the hospital, but during these past weeks, you brought change into our lives. Change for the good.”

  Tia looped her arm with her father’s. “My life is so much better.”

  “This past week,” Uncle Drew continued, “while I prayed so desperately for my wife—for all of us—I asked the Lord into my life too. I hope that maybe someday, Lenore will do the same. In the meantime and no matter what lies ahead, I believe our lives will get better. We know enough now to turn to God for the help we need.”

  Jill could only stare in wonder.

  “I wasted so many opportunities,” he continued, “preoccupied with that mill while my children grew up. If I had taken a stronger hand with Carver …” His shoulders jerked as he fought to compose himself. “I … can’t change any of that now, but with God’s help, I intend to be a better father to my daughter.”

  Tia’s mouth curved in a wobbly smile. “Oh, Dad!”

  Uncle Drew reached into his suit jacket. “Speaking of fathers …” He removed an envelope and held it out to Jill. “This came in the mail today.”

  Jill took the heavy vellum envelope and read her name penned in long, bold strokes at the center. In the upper left-hand corner, the return address included a name. “John Ashley Taylor.”

  “Your father,” Uncle Drew said. “He legally changed your last name and your mother’s at her request.”

  With trembling fingers, she touched her name. Her father had written it. “You knew him?”

  Uncle Drew shook his head. “I knew of him, but for Susannah’s sake and yours, our parents swore me to secrecy. They and Susannah were certain no good would come of any contact with him.”

  “But why?”

  “Circumstances were complicated then, but I’ve spoken with your father and believe they may no longer matter. Now it’s up to you, Jill. You might at least want to read what he wrote.”

  Jill broke the seal and withdrew the elegant sympathy card. She read the message twice.

  “He wants to see me, Uncle Drew. He included his cell phone number.”

  Tia jumped up and hugged her. “This is what you’ve wanted, Jill. What I prayed for you.”

  “He also sends his sympathy regarding our loss,” Jill continued.

  “I take comfort,” Uncle Drew said, “in that, if my son’s tragedy had to be, it brought us new beginnings, Jill. Including that fine young man who obviously loves you so much.”

  Amelia smiled. “I believe he’s referring to my Sonny,” she said. “It’s no secret to the rest of us how you feel about each other. So, will we hear any good news in the near future?”

  Jill lowered her eyes. “I … I don’t think so.”

  Uncle Drew slapped his knees and stood up. “Well, that’s between you two. You’ll work it out. I’m just glad Carver’s death proved accidental though I had no doubt it would.”

  Jill searched his round face. “You didn’t?”

  “Sam witnessed enough to make that clear. Carver crashing through the railing and Clay grabbing at his shirt to keep him from falling.”

  “He did?”

  “He still had the shirt button when you two joined the rest of us that night.”

  Jill tried to wrap her mind around what her heart had been telling her all along. Clay was innocent of any wrongdoing. “Would you three excuse me?”

  She had to find Clay and … didn’t have far to go. He stood at the end of the brick walkway.

  Her joy suddenly deflated. She hesitated. She hadn’t wanted to, but she had doubted him. He deserved someone who believed in him no matter what.

  Now only a whisper away, she looked up into his love-filled gaze. “Clay, I wasn’t absolutely sure …” The words died in her throat. She co
uldn’t speak such despicable things. “Please forgive me.”

  He put a forefinger gently to her lips. “If not for you, I would have done exactly what I came here to do. Yes, Carver’s death was an accident—but only by a split second.”

  “You didn’t kill him. That’s all that matters.”

  He grasped her hand. “You’re wrong, Jill. That’s not all that matters.”

  “It is.”

  “Listen to me.” He stopped to clear his throat. “That night when God sent me back to you, he asked me to trust him. This past week, he and I have been doing a lot of communicating.”

  They had? A happy tear slid down her cheek.

  “You were right, Jill. No matter what happens or how bad things might look, we can trust God to make it come out all right. At the right time and in the right way.”

  Lord, Clay came back to you! The wonder of it sent shivers of joy through her entire being. Her heart throbbed for both God and him. “I only know that I love you, Clay.”

  He opened his arms, and she snuggled into his embrace. While she listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart, he sighed and buried his face in her hair.

  Suddenly he shifted, arching awkwardly to look over his shoulder. She looked up.

  “I hope you don’t mind a foursome,” he said.

  “Foursome?”

  “God, you, me, and …” He nodded toward their feet. “… our little buddy here.”

  “Me-ew.”

  Jill peered down. “Button!” She bent to scoop him up, laughing as he purred with his deep rumble.

  “I spotted him a few days ago,” Clay said. “The little rascal allowed me to feed him but wouldn’t let me near him until last night. We’re finally best buds.” He scratched Button behind the ears.

  The kitten arched his neck and closed his eyes, his whiskers spreading out like a fireworks display.

  Jill laughed. “I fully agree, Button.” She gazed up at the man who, God willing, she would love for the rest of her life.

  As he lowered his head, she raised her lips to meet his promise of a lifetime of love.

  THE END

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