Reluctantly, Ryley followed her down the hall and into a conference room where a man Ryley’s age was seated. He was dressed in a suit that swallowed him.
He glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “Who is she?”
The man directed his question to Ms. Pinkerton.
“All in good time. Ryley St. James, this is Felix Wilson, Mr. Wilson’s only remaining living relative. His cousin, to be precise.”
“How did you know Harlon?” Felix asked with a raised brow.
“I didn’t. I don’t even know why I’m here,” Ryley answered.
“Don’t be modest, Ms. St. James.” Ms. Pinkerton fixed Felix with her glare. “She was the only person who attended your cousin’s funeral. The only person who bothered to show.”
“Jane, I told you I was in meetings,” Felix said, sitting straighter. “It’s not like Harlon missed me.”
“Oh, but he did, and you weren’t in a meeting. You were in a bar getting drunk until you left with a hooker,” Jane said.
Ouch. This woman had claws. Ryley instantly liked her. She had a private investigator, and she wasn’t afraid to use him. If Jane had all that on Felix, what had she discover about Ryley?
“You two are here because you are the only two people in his will.”
“How is that possible?” Ryley crossed her arms and rested them on the table.
“We’ll get to that,” Jane said. “First. I have documentation to show all of this is legal.” She glanced at Felix as if knowing he’d protest. “If you try to contest the will, you get nothing, and I will use the stipend that Mr. Wilson left just for this cause and fight you with everything we’ve got to make sure the rightful heir keeps the property.”
“As it should be.” Felix pulled at his jacket. “She already said she didn’t know Harlon.”
“Yes, well. I’ll make this short and sweet.” She opened a file sitting on the table and read. “This is the last will and testament of Harlon Wilson,” Jane continued reading.
Ryley sat back in her chair. She’d done this to herself. She’d shown up when she could have just ignored the invite. Ryley still didn’t understand why she was there.
“There are two categories of beneficiaries. Those who didn’t show up to the funeral, and those who did. Those who didn’t have been bequeathed a total of ten dollars. He believed that to be a fair and equitable exchange for the lack of decency you showed him while being placed in his last resting place.” Jane looked at Felix with a wicked grin. “He also suggested you use the money to buy alcohol and think about how you can be a better person. Not that you have to use his guideline, but he wanted me to add it.”
Ryley’s brows dipped as she glanced from Jane to Felix’s pinched face, turning an angry shade of red. “That son of a bitch.” He growled. “He’s lost his damn mind.”
“Actually, he knew someone would argue, so he’d prepared for that too. They tested Harlon and found him to be of sound mind and body. A federal judge attested to those facts and acted as the witness. You’ll be hard-pressed to win any court battle. Your blatant disrespect in not attending the funeral was your own undoing.”
Felix’s face was turning purple.
Ryley leaned in. “Just breathe.”
He spun on her and narrowed his eyes before shoving out of his chair. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”
“I look forward to fighting you in court, Felix. Let me show you to the door.”
Felix Wilson slammed his fists on the table and burst out of his chair, knocking it against the bookshelf behind him. He yanked the door open, letting it bounce off the wall as he left.
“You didn’t have to piss him off. If he’d just waited long enough, he would have realized that he’ll get everything after I turn it down,” Ryley said.
“If that’s your desire, then yes,” Jane said. “But first, I have a video left by Mr. Wilson. You should watch it before you decide.”
Jane took a DVD out of the file and moved across the room. She handed Ryley the remote and gestured to a green button. “Just hit Play. I’ll be back when it’s over.”
“You know what it says?” Ryley asked.
She nodded. “It’s best you hear it from him.”
Jane quietly closed the door, and Ryley hit Play.
Chapter 18
The snow on the screen faded and Harlon Wilson’s face came into focus. The living version of the same spirit that had visited Ryley that morning. Wrinkles filled his sun-kissed face. He looked like he’d enjoyed the outdoors. He wasn’t wearing a suit or anything pretentious, but a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a collared shirt with a little stain near the third button. The bookshelf behind him was filled with what looked like law books.
Harlon looked like an average older man she’d see in the diner occasionally. Kind, if not a bit crazy for whatever stunts he was trying to pull off after his demise. Ryley didn’t even know what had caused his death.
“Is this thing on?” The voice filled the screen, making Ryley smile. He sounded like he could have been someone’s grandfather. It was a shame no one was missing him.
“Yes, Mr. Wilson. It’s recording.” Ryley recognized Jane’s voice somewhere in the background.
Harlon sat up straighter, with his wrinkled hands clasped resting on the table. “I don’t suppose there are more than a handful of people that showed up to my funeral, and I’m okay with that. I spent much of my life as a recluse, and for good reason. It was such a small price to pay for my happiness.”
Harlon’s gaze drifted off-camera, and he smiled before facing the lens again. “If you’re watching this video, you attended my funeral, and first, I’d like to thank you for taking the time out of your day to say farewell to this old man.”
Ryley’s heart ached for the guy. What if no one had shown at all? It just pushed home Ryley’s resolve that she’d been doing the right thing all along. Dead people, even in spirit, needed to be acknowledged in death.
“I won’t bore you with all the details about my life, just a tad bit that even my relatives don’t know. There was a time in my life where I was down on my luck. If you know me now, then you probably won’t believe it, but I used to be homeless, not sure where my next meal would come from and then one day, a kind soul dressed in sun-faded jeans and a shirt that was missing a button gave me twenty dollars when I was bussing a table at a restaurant. It was the only gig I could get at the time that wasn’t afraid to hire teens under the table.
“That act of kindness changed my life. The next day the man showed up with a proposition. I work for him at the farm, and in return, he’d give me food, shelter, and friendship. I didn’t have much choice in my situation. It all sounded too good to be true, as if someone had sent an angel from up above at the exact time when I was ready to give up. I agreed, and I’m damn sure glad I did.”
Harlon paused and took a sip of his water as if he was trying to fight off tears forming in his eyes.
“I got on my feet. Was given a job and I worked hard to learn everything I could. His only request was that one day I pay it forward and I have worked hard every day of my life to honor that request.
“My savior once told me he hadn’t been the first, and he had no plans on being the last. It’s a legacy that has been passed from one person to the next, along with the property. When he died, he left me that property and there are secrets left to be explored. I know that I’ve never found them all, but the ones I did find would make your eyes cross.”
His face softened as he stared into the screen for a moment. “Whoever is watching this, whoever went to my funeral, you have the same kind heart for just showing up to the funeral of a recluse, and I thank you. It’s with that said that I’ve chosen you, whoever you might be, to carry on my tradition of paying it forward. To all of you, I leave my estate and everything that comes with it on my property.
“There’s only one catch. One small request. I ask you try for one year, and if you decide you don’t want to take part in
this time-honored tradition, then sell the estate to someone else who can appreciate it.”
He looked off camera again.
“Don’t forget Ringwald, sir,” a male said off-screen.
“Right.” The old man grinned. “My dog, Ringwald, goes with the farm. He was my best friend and the best guard dog money could buy. I’ve already provided for someone to come watch after him. But he’s bound to be a bit sad with my passing.”
“This guy can’t be serious?” Ryley whispered.
“I can assure you, young lady, that I am very serious,” Harlon Wilson said as he appeared in the seat beside her. “Please keep watching. You’re going to miss the best part.”
Ryley turned her attention back to the screen. “I’ve left you help who knows all the intricate details of how I did things and how I kept my identity anonymous as I paid it forward. You can’t imagine what types of scum come out of the woodwork when they think you’ve got a pot to piss in.”
“Sir,” the man off-camera said again.
“Right.” Harlon cleared his throat. “I’ve left helpful guidelines. It’s simple. Enjoy life as I did.”
“Sir, you’re forgetting the rest.”
“Thank you, Oscar,” Harlon said. Color crept up his cheeks. “There is one last thing. Be kind to my neighbors and the people I’ve helped. They’re more than what they seem.”
“Way to tug the heartstrings, Wilson,” she whispered to the ghost seated next to her.
“I’ll leave you with these parting words of thanks for being a decent, kind, human being, and respecting an old man’s dying wish.”
“You seemed like a good man.” Ryley turned her gaze to his.
“Just try it. See what I left behind, and if you aren’t interested, then walk away. No harm, no foul.”
“And you’ll leave?” Ryley asked.
Harlon held up his fingers. “You have my word. All I ask is that you try,” he said. “Please.”
“What’s stopping me from just selling your things sight unseen? Tell me you have provisions in your will to prevent that. You don’t seem naïve.” Ryley pointed to the door. “You know that’s what your cousin would have done. He seemed like the kind of guy that would have spent it on getting drunk and on hookers.”
“I was fortunate he was too drunk to show up.” Wilson grinned as if he’d had a hand in making that happen. “Besides, I’ve left you a helper. You simply have to decide how to carry on—the rest will be handled.”
Nothing in Ryley’s life was ever that simple.
There was a knock on the door. Jane poked her head inside. “All done?”
“Yeah, I’m done,” Ryley answered.
Jane stepped into the room. A man around Ryley’s age dressed in a tailored suit followed Jane inside. He reminded Ryley of her brother.
“Ms. St. James, I’d like you to meet Oscar Rothchild.”
“You were the guy off-camera?” Ryley asked.
“Yes,” he answered with a curt nod.
“Oscar is the person who will help you get situated on the property and handle everything you need. He’s helped Wilson for the last seven years.”
Ryley turned her gaze to the guy and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why weren’t you at the funeral?”
Crimson spread on his cheeks.
“Oscar had other priorities to attend to. Duties that Mr. Wilson asked him to handle.”
“You were getting the cousin drunk, weren’t you?” Ryley asked with a grin.
“I’m not at liberty to say.” Oscar’s lips twitched.
“So,” Jane clasped her hands together. “Are you ready to sign on the dotted line? All that’s left is handing over the keys and going over the list of assets, land, and bank accounts.”
“Yes, I mean, no. I haven’t decided. This is a big undertaking and sounds time-consuming. I’d like to think about it.”
“Come again?” Oscar asked as confusion riddled his face. “You met the cousin. If you don’t take what Harlon left you, then that despicable cousin will gladly rip it apart and sell it, or worse, leave it to rot. You’ll be personally responsible for destroying a hundred-year-old legacy. If you don’t want the responsibility, just sign the paperwork, and I’ll deal with all of it for you.”
“You’re pretty passionate about the place.”
“You would be too if you’d only take a drive out there with me.”
Ryley glanced at her watch, “No time today, maybe another day. If you’ll excuse me, I have a prior engagement. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon before I get to work to see if we can ride out to the place unless my answer is no, if that’s okay.”
“Certainly,” Jane said, sharing a confused look with Oscar.
Ryley stepped around them and headed out of the building and to her car. Oscar ran after her as she was unlocking the door. “What is there to think about?”
Ryley sighed and rested her arm on the door frame. “You seem like a decent guy, Oscar. Harlon obviously thought so, I could read it on his face when you spoke in the DVD, but my life is complicated. There are things you guys don’t understand. I need a day or so to think about it.” She patted his shoulder and slid into her car, shutting the door, effectively cutting off his rebuttal. She wiggled her fingers in a wave as she pulled out.
Mr. Wilson appeared in the passenger seat. “You’ve already performed the impossible.”
“What is that?”
“I’ve never seen the boy tongue-tied. Yes, I do believe you will be good for him.”
Ryley glanced over at the spirit. “Can’t you find someone else to go haunt? You promised.”
“Well, of course, I could go haunt my cousin and drive him insane.”
“That’s the spirit. Go do that. I’ve got another ghost to annoy,” she said, turning up the volume on the radio, drowning out any additional conversation he thought to start.
Chapter 19
Ryley had a few hours before her shift. She pulled into the diner and parked. Grabbing a table inside, she ordered. Maggie’s shift started ten minutes ago. She’d been on the same schedule every week, like clockwork.
Riley had no clue how to run a damn farm. Surely Harlon realized that might be the case. The thought of a legacy helping others had its own appeal, but only if her identity was never outed. Her criminal city-slicker father would never look for her on a farm.
Maybe if that guy, Oscar, ran things, and she was like a silent partner in the grand scheme of things, maybe then it could work.
Her gaze drifted around the diner as she ate. The table behind her was taken. The occupants had menus covering their faces. Families eating lunch caught up in conversation, and laughter filled up the rest of the place. There was a woman with two kids in the booth in front of her. A piece of apple pie was put in front of the kid with a birthday candle sticking out of it.
“I’m sorry it’s not much,” the woman lowered her voice and said in a whisper.
“It’s okay, momma,” the little boy said, pushing the pie into the middle of the table. “I’ll share it. It’s enough for all of us.”
The tender moment was like one she’d shared with her brother and mother when they’d been in hiding. Times weren’t always easy for lots of people.
Ryley slid out of the booth and headed for the counter. She pointed to the apple pie in the case and bought it. Carrying it to the table, she smiled down at the kid. “Happy Birthday.”
Tears filled the mother’s eyes. “Oh, we couldn’t, possibly.”
Ryley smiled at the woman. “Yes. You can. You remind me of my mother. She used to do the same thing.”
“She gave you apple pie too?” the kid asked.
The other little boy sat quietly with his hands in his lap. His gaze down on the table.
“Yes, she did, and when she died, my brother took over the role and ordered the pie, too. It was his way of thanking her for all she did for both of us.”
The quiet kid raised his gaze as if understanding. Ryley winked at h
im. “Eat the pie. It’s the best in town. I’d know. I’ve tried them all.”
Ryley grabbed her bill and took it to the counter to pay. She took a mint when Maggie appeared to ring her up. “How did it go last night trying to stop the ghost that’s haunting your friend? Did the spirit tell you who killed her?”
The man behind her leaned in a little closer while the guy sitting on the stool next to the register turned to look at her.
Oscar. He smiled. “Attending strangers’ funerals, buying birthday pies, and a psychic dealing with ghosts. You are a busy girl. But maybe Harlon knew what he was doing after all.”
“Are you following me?” Ryley squawked and handed over the money to pay for her bill.
“I am your humble employee until you officially turn down the job.”
Ryley glanced at the coffee cup sitting in front of him and the counter and its lack of food and plates.
“Well, as your potential boss, I’m ordering you to stop,” Ryley said, taking her debit card.
She spun around right into the man standing behind her. He smiled down at her when the man he’d been sitting with walked up. Felix Wilson.
“Oh, look. The gold-digger who is stealing my inheritance.”
“You must have me confused with the streetwalkers you have to pay for.”
The man looked from Felix and back to her. “You’re the unknown woman Harlon left his property to?”
Oscar’s smile dropped, and he stood from his seat.
The man glanced at Oscar and grinned. “And you were the one he didn’t leave any of it to.” The man pulled out his card. “I think you’re going to find the property too much to handle, so call me, and I’ll take it off your hands above the asking price.”
Ryley glanced down at the card. Frank Delgado, a land developer.
“Let me guess, Felix here thought he was getting everything, and you had the pen ready for him to sign a deal?” Ryley asked.
Frank’s lip twitched at the corner as he looked at Ryley. “I’m willing to make you the same offer, maybe even sweeten the pot.”
Grave Wrong (Lost Souls Society Book 1) Page 9
