“People will think we murdered that poor old man. You know how they’ve been whispering about the mayor and Mr. Pfeiffer’s nieces and nephews. Now they’ll accuse us. I think I’ll throw up.” She glanced out the window at the new maple for reassurance. If she could only believe it meant love...
“Hurling is one alternative,” Selene said dryly through the phone. “Calling Axell and a lawyer is another. Your choice, girl.”
“I want it all to go away,” she whispered, sinking down beside Alexa, who was resting in her infant seat, and stroking her daughter’s petal-soft cheek. “I just want to live my life and love my kids and make the world go away.”
“Seems to me, that’s why you married Axell. Call him.”
Maya was terrified the world would make Axell go away.
“What happens if we own the school free and clear?” she whispered.
“We have a bonfire, whoop war cries, and circle the wagons, ’cause the rednecks will be after us with a vengeance,” Selene replied grimly. “You call Axell. I’ll call my attorney. And then we’d better consider a security fence and armed guards, or selling out.”
Maya would rather throw up. Hanging up the receiver, she crooned a silly love song to Alexa. Maybe she could call Stephen and he would agree to send her back to California. Maybe she could take Axell’s credit cards and book passage to Australia.
Maybe she could call Axell.
Cradling Alexa in her arms, changing her diaper and watching her kick with sheer exuberation, Maya remembered the moment Axell had delivered her, the astonishment and wonder on his face as he brought this living, breathing human being into the world for the first time, and she knew she couldn’t run any more.
She’d reached the destination Fate had intended for her. She could let the current carry her away on a slow and lonely journey through life, or she could fight to stay here — in her spawning grounds. She grinned at the reference. Axell had said fish have spawning grounds, not nests. That was probably true. She’d spawn with him any day. But first, she had to find a way to anchor herself.
***
The demon screamed as Maya opened the shop door. She almost dropped Alexa in surprise, but the furious shouting match at the counter distracted her sufficiently from the demon to keep her grip.
“I’ll not have Maya — ”
“Don’t give me that crap, you — ”
“Don’t interrupt me!”
Maya blinked in surprise at this last roar. Axell. Axell never shouted. Axell never raised his voice. Axell looked as if he were about to murder Cleo.
Both of them ignored the screaming demon and her arrival. Well, she was an heiress now. She expected a little attention.
Wickedly, she leaned over the counter and plugged in the current to the dragon mobile.
The multi-hued dragon began to rotate slowly. Small trolls and elves orbited around him. The duo at the counter continued shouting nonsensically. The dragon spun faster and swung in wider arcs.
Maya hummed a little tune, set Alexa’s seat on the counter, and pushed the button wired to the mobile motor.
The dragon’s trap door flew open and his treasure exploded in a bright swirl of glittering confetti, hard candy, and dried rose petals. She hadn’t been able to make up her mind about the contents, and she’d never tested the results. The effect was quite as amazing to her as to the others.
Cleo screamed and dodged ricocheting peppermints. Sparkling metallic confetti drifted, caught in the air currents from the overhead fans, and scattered in rainbow flurries across the contents of the store.
Axell merely turned and arched a questioning eyebrow in her direction, before gathering up Alexa and stepping out of the hail of destruction.
“Party pooper,” she pouted as Axell caught her elbow and pulled her toward the door where the confetti didn’t reach.
“Too bad there’s no way it could shoot out helium balloons,” Axell replied reflectively, examining the spinning dragon.
Looking mildly abashed, Cleo warily stood up, and in wonder, watched the cloud of confetti settle and swirl in dying eddies. She picked up a peppermint and absently unwrapped it as a small tornado of petals pirouetted over the wicker chairs.
“You’re not happy unless you’re blowing things up, are you?” she asked.
Maya smiled and wrapped an auburn curl around her finger. A rose petal drifted to the floor. “I showered you with treasures, Cleo. You never learned to appreciate them.”
Beside her, Axell choked. She couldn’t tell if it was from laughter or not. Axell didn’t laugh often, but she knew he had a sense of humor.
“Well, it’s more colorful than dust,” Cleo acknowledged, blowing purple and red stars off her cash register. “You had a point?”
“I’m celebrating.”
Axell watched as Maya sailed into the center of the room with all flags flying. He knew that airy look. The ditzier Maya got, the worse the situation. She was swimming so fast downstream right now, she’d be over the falls before she knew it.
“People commonly do that with champagne. Are you going to enlighten us?”
He didn’t dare approach Maya when she had that dangerous glint in her eye. He didn’t know if the tree had been delivered yet. He didn’t know if she’d seen it or understood. For all he knew, she considered it an insult, and she was here to smack him in the face.
Now that she had everyone’s attention, she slipped into full Maya mode, curled up in the high-backed chair, and beamed. Axell wouldn’t be surprised if rainbows formed over her head. Blissfully stricken by the power of her smile, he didn’t even have to look lower to recall every sensual detail of her bare breast against his palm, her lithe body arching into his. Her siren call...
“We’re heiresses,” she announced sweetly.
Black clouds obliterated any rainbows. Axell groaned and covered his eyes.
Cleo ignored him and waited patiently for Maya to explain. Instead, Axell had the distinct feeling Maya was waiting for him. It was frightening how easily he read her sometimes, as if there were some unspoken current of understanding between them. He’d never known anything like it before. The responsibility was not only frightening, but overwhelming.
He could handle responsibility. With a sigh, Axell uncovered his eyes and glared at his wife. She didn’t flinch, just waited expectantly. Damn, but he loved the way she did that.
“Pfeiffer?” he asked wearily.
She nodded. Cleo turned to Axell for explanation.
“He named you and Cleo and the relationship?” Axell clarified. At Maya’s nod, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “The school?”
“Don’t know,” she finally replied. “The lawyer blathered on about deeds. He’s driving down this afternoon to explain.” She looked a little less certain. “They’ve already filed the will at the courthouse. There’s nothing we can do.”
“A vacation in the Bahamas until this blows over would be nice.” Leaning against the counter, Axell covered his face and wished escape was an alternative.
Idly, Cleo fished another petal from her hair. “Inheriting is good, isn’t it? Why the long faces?”
“Mr. Pfeiffer was murdered,” Maya emphasized. “Who do you think are the prime suspects now?”
Silence.
Axell looked up. Cleo didn’t have to look guilty. He wagered she looked guilty sleeping. He turned to Maya.
“Cleo got out the day Mr. Pfeiffer died, remember?” she reminded him.
Axell summoned the unpleasant memory of Cleo walking down the shop stairs on them one morning — the day after the murder. He didn’t think prisons let people out in the middle of the night. She must have been released the day of the murder. Shit.
“I didn’t know anything about any damned will,” Cleo responded defensively at Axell’s look. “He said he’d take care of us, but I figured it was an old man talking. He was my damned landlord,” she shouted beneath the force of their stares. “I paid him rent. I figured he gave me a discount beca
use I listened to him talk.”
“Where were you the night you were released?” Axell asked as calmly as he could. For Maya’s sake, he wanted to believe her sister. But the circumstances definitely looked questionable.
“I was here!” Cleo gestured at the stairs. “I got a ride, found the key over the sill like Maya said, and came in and inspected the place. I went upstairs and went to bed. Stevieboy came in around three and woke me. He can verify I was in bed.”
“At three. News of the murder was all over town before midnight,” Axell replied with resignation. “I don’t suppose you know the name of the person who drove you here? I don’t know the exact time of death. There might be a chance...”
He saw the exchange of looks between the sisters and knew that alley was a dead end.
Cleo shrugged. “He’s not a reliable witness.”
Axell cringed at the defeat in her voice. He thought he understood something of how a person could be used for a doormat for so long, they began to think that’s all there was to life. Beaten down by circumstances all their lives, with no money, no resources, no friends or family for support, the doormats of the world existed to take the blame for others.
He turned to Maya and recognized the gleam of confidence in her eyes as she watched him. She thought he could solve her sister’s problems.
Logically, he should run the other way.
Insanely, Maya’s faith pumped new energy through Axell’s blood, inflated his heart — and probably his head, not to mention other parts of his anatomy — and released something previously fettered and downtrodden in his soul.
He thought it was hope.
Thirty-four
It IS as bad as you think, and they ARE out to get you!
“You’ll understand that we haven’t talked with Mr. Pfeiffer since the will was signed. He gave us this list of his properties at the time, but they could have changed since then. All except his house are in the name of his corporation, so it’s merely a matter of listing you as the new stockholders of the corporation, and filing a deed on the house.”
The lawyer sipped his martini and sampled one of the stuffed mushroom appetizers Axell’s chef had brought back to the meeting room. Maya clung to the seat of her chair and tried not to squirm as he chewed. She couldn’t label her emotion. She’d lost a grandfather. She hadn’t even known she had one. Didn’t know if she wanted one. But the choice had been taken from her. And now she was staring at the immense responsibility of his properties and wondering if she could give them away.
She glanced at Cleo. Her sister had flattened her hair into something that almost looked normal and Peter Pannish. She still had tired circles under her eyes and looked brittle enough to crack, but she seemed more connected to this conversation than Maya was.
Maya couldn’t get beyond the grandfather part. Cleo had already nailed the lawyer for a list of properties. The list wasn’t long. Maya had no clue if any of the places listed were valuable. She simply understood that her school was one of them.
Cleo had passed the list to Axell, who scanned it with more knowledge than the others. He’d grown up here, and most of the places listed were in the area.
“Does the corporation have a bank account?” Selene inquired.
Maya had insisted that Selene be part of the meeting. Axell would have the best interest of his family in mind. Selene would favor the school. Maya didn’t know which way to turn.
“We have a list of bank accounts, and we’ve notified the banks of the death and change of ownership. The court will issue releases when the paperwork is complete. We asked for account balances for estate-tax purposes.” The lawyer slid a paper to Cleo, who sat next to him.
Cleo’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the list. Shrugging, she handed it to Maya. “The properties better be in good condition. He didn’t leave enough to pay the electricity.”
“One of them is the condemned shop,” Axell pointed out. “It will cost to have it demolished.” He took the bank list Maya handed him and grimaced.
“Mr. Pfeiffer said he’d given his cousins and his wife’s nieces and nephews countless loans over the years that had never been paid back. He left his sister the small house he lived in the last few years.” The lawyer popped a mushroom in his mouth and savored it before shuffling through his notes again.
“I understand the rents have decreased as the properties deteriorated, so there may not be much cash. Most of the Pfeiffer family possessions were apparently divided among the family when he moved out of the big house, with the exception of the few he took with him and that his sister inherits. He considered that inheritance enough for the extended family.” The lawyer sipped his drink and sat back. “We’re still looking to see if any accounts have been overlooked. The relatives haven’t been very cooperative.”
“The relatives know about the will?” Maya asked with a tremor of fear.
“We’ve told them we’re executors of his estate. I’m not entirely certain they understand the meaning of that. We did not notify them of the will until it was officially accepted by the court.”
Maya glanced at Axell, who was beginning to look exceedingly grim. Maybe she should go check on the children. She’d left Constance and Matty eating supper in the restaurant kitchen. She glanced at Alexa sitting contentedly in her chair, sucking her fist. She never cried when Maya needed a disturbance.
“There are some old papers and junk in the attic of the school,” she said tentatively. “Should we turn them over to the family?”
The lawyer shrugged. “The house and its contents belong to you. You might want to check and see if there are any bank statements that could lead us to other accounts.”
“I can get on that tonight if there’s electricity up there.” Cleo glanced at Maya.
“There’s just one of those old work lights hanging from a beam. We need to carry the stuff down and go through it.”
The lawyer shoved back his chair. “I really should be going. If you have any questions...”
Axell rose with him. “You’ll need to eat. My chef will prepare you something. Relax and enjoy before you drive back.”
MacGregor smiled and patted his rounded stomach. “If the entrees are as good as the appetizers, I’ll be delighted to take you up on that offer.”
The women watched as the two men wandered into the restaurant. Selene was the first to speak.
“Well, ladies, looks like you got a corner on the market of the hottest real estate in the state. How does it feel to be slumlords?”
“Slumlords?” Maya bit back a giggle and glanced at the list. They were just addresses to her.
Cleo leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “We’d better choose which ones we’re going to sell. We’ll need the cash for lawyer’s fees when the family finds out.”
Selene beamed approvingly. “You got your head on right. Maybe instead of rooting through attics, you ought to be finding a good Realtor. You’ll need cash to maintain these places, cash to tear down that junk heap... Pfeiffer didn’t do you any favors by draining the corporation.”
Maya listened in amazement as her sister and Selene dived into an animated conversation on real estate economics. All she wanted to know was if she could keep her school. It wasn’t in the corporation. It was a separate property. The lawyer had said it belonged to her and Cleo now.
An awful thought occurred to her. What if Cleo wanted to sell the school? All that acreage was outrageously valuable. It would provide the cash needed for all the things Cleo and Selene were discussing right now.
Maybe selling the school was the best solution. Maybe she was the only one who thought it special. What did it matter if that land had been in the Pfeiffer family for generations? The Pfeiffer family had never considered her and Cleo as members.
Its historical value was meaningless. It wasn’t as if George Washington had slept there or anything. Just because she thought it an ideal location for her school, that the children loved the yard and the huge
rooms and all the nifty secrets old houses and gardens concealed — none of that mattered when it came down to the almighty dollar.
How long would it take before Selene and Cleo reached that conclusion? Maya figured Axell had reached it the minute he’d seen the nonexistent bank accounts. He was just being polite and letting someone else say it out loud.
She’d quit following the flow of conversation but a sudden silence drew her back in. She looked up to see both Cleo and Selene watching her. Well, that didn’t take long.
“I don’t want to sell,” she said firmly.
***
“You’re a pig-headed jackass, Maya,” Cleo complained as she rifled through a trunk of old photos Axell had carried down from the school’s attic. They were working beneath the bare bulbs of the upstairs bedrooms, and she squinted at the spidery handwriting on some of the letters.
“A jackass, a moron, a ditz, whatever,” Maya replied with unconcern as she flipped through an ancient ledger. “I don’t want to sell.”
“When was the last time Maya behaved like a jackass?” Axell inquired as he carried in another box.
Cleo halted, stared at him, stared at Maya, then shrugged. “All right, you got me. Stubborn, she’s not. Stupid, she is.”
Maya ignored both of them. “You realize this is our family history in here,” she marveled, glancing at entries dating back to the 1800’s. “These things belong in a museum.”
“Charlotte is full of attics with this kind of stuff. Unless you come across a reference to Robert E. Lee, no one’s interested.” Axell opened a carton that looked slightly newer than the rest. “I don’t think you’re going to find what you’re looking for in here.”
“Yeah, the recent stuff is probably in the house the sister inherited. She won’t be too happy to hand it over. This moldering mansion is her family home.” Cleo reached in the new box and removed what appeared to be a black-bound journal. A yellowed, much-folded letter fell from its pages.
“The sister doesn’t have kids,” Maya pointed out. “She’s an old lady without the resources to maintain a place this size. She would have sold it. Mr. Pfeiffer knew that.”
Impossible Dreams Page 30
