Estelle stopped in the foyer. “Russell, this is Blake Whitman.” They shook hands. “Russell, would you mind waiting for me in the parlor while I show Mr. Whitman out?”
“No problem. Nice to meet you, Blake.” Russell walked off, relieved he didn’t have to sit through another visit. He could hear muffled voices outside the room and wondered how long Estelle would be occupied. Thinking about his dog being shut inside the house all morning, he checked his phone to see the time. He needed to get home to let Maggie outside. Debating whether to call Cliff back and ask him to do it, he decided he could use a break. After all, he would be back there that evening for the reading of the will.
When he opened the parlor door, his mouth dropped. Blake had his arms around Estelle, and they were locked lip-to-lip in a kiss. And not the friend-of-the-family kind either.
Estelle turned around when she heard Russell. Her face was flushed and her lipstick was smeared.
“Russell…” Her voice cracked as she tried to speak.
The three of them stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. Blake broke the silence. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said to Estelle and left the house.
“Who was that?” Russell had a feeling he knew but wanted to hear it from Estelle.
“He’s a friend—was a friend. He—I don’t want to talk about it. I’m exhausted. I’m going to go lie down.”
“But—”
“It’s none of your concern. I’m going up to my room.”
“Good. I need to go home and take care of Maggie.” Russell picked up his jacket and started for the door.
“Maggie? Who is she?” Estelle lifted her chin, staring at Russell indignantly.
“I told you before. Maggie is my dog.”
“You are coming back tonight for the reading of the will, aren’t you? Deena will be here.” She moved toward him, but he kept walking.
“Maybe.” Pulling the heavy front door behind him, Russell felt like an escaped prisoner. How had he let her get to him? Maybe she wasn’t the person he thought she was. She wasn’t being honest about that guy, and honesty was his number one priority in a relationship. That’s the main reason he was still single. He knew he had trust issues, and they ran deep.
He got in his pickup and sped off. They had only dated a month. It never occurred to him that she might be seeing someone else. He needed to talk to her so he could find out where he stood. Why had he let himself get in so deep? One thing he knew for sure: If she didn’t come clean about this Blake Whitman, they were finished.
*
These days it is unusual to have a formal reading of a person’s will. However, since multiple parties were involved, Jim Redmond agreed to do it the old-fashioned way this time. Estelle wanted Irene and Trey to be present since she knew her mother had named them as beneficiaries.
Irene had prepared coffee and a cream cheese pound cake covered with a light vanilla glaze. She had asked Marie James to come over to serve the guests.
Irene knew Marie could use the extra money. Her husband had a questionable reputation, and she had two children to support. Marie came to Carolyn’s three times a week to do laundry and perform house-cleaning chores. She also helped out on special occasions, like the Fitzhugh’s annual Christmas party.
When Deena rang the doorbell, Marie greeted her. She took Deena’s coat and showed her to the parlor.
“Hello. Jim Redmond.” The attorney stood up and reached out his hand to greet her. Irene was sitting in one of the straight back chairs near the side wall. It was the first time Deena had seen her wearing anything other than her housekeeper’s uniform. She had her hair down and was actually quite attractive.
Neither Estelle nor Russell was there.
“Would you all care for some coffee?” Out of habit, Irene got up to serve the guests.
“Thanks, I’ll have some coffee. That cake looks delicious,” Deena added, knowing Irene had likely prepared it. “Is Russell here yet?”
“I don’t believe so, ma’am. He left earlier this afternoon and hasn’t returned.”
Deena added sweetener and cream to her coffee while Jim Redmond read over his legal papers. The atmosphere was tense. At last, Estelle came in looking somewhat more haggard than the day before and sat down on the sofa.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “I thought Russell would be here, but I suppose he couldn’t make it.” She looked at Deena.
“Maybe he’s running late.” She looked at her watch and wondered where her brother could be. Unless he were ill, he would have been here on time. “Should I call him?”
“No,” Estelle said flatly. “My nephew Trey was also supposed to be here, but he had to work. Let’s just get started.”
Mr. Redmond reached for his briefcase and pulled out another folder. “Before we get started, I want you to know that there are other persons named in the will. I will be sending each of them a certified letter in regards to the will’s contents.”
Estelle seemed to be distracted. When she realized Mr. Redmond was waiting for her to say something, she said, “That’s fine.” Deena wondered if she even knew what she had agreed to.
“I can read from the will verbatim or summarize the important parts. It is up to you two.” He looked at Estelle and Irene.
“A summary is fine with me,” Estelle said and looked at Irene who nodded in agreement. Deena reached over and took one of the strawberries garnishing the cake plate.
“We are here to read the Last Will and Testament of Mrs. Carolyn Fitzhugh. Before we discuss the disposition of her assets, I need to go over exactly what those assets are.” He cleared his throat and began reading. “One. The estate containing forty-six acres of land in the county of Perry, Texas, including the residence and other buildings on said property. Two. All of the furnishings and other personal property contained within and on said estate. Three.” He looked up at Estelle and Irene. “This is a long list, but I think it is important to review it for the record.”
“That’s fine.” Estelle clenched her hands in her lap. “Please continue.”
Bright lights illuminated the front window as a car drove up the long driveway. “That must be Russell.” Deena jumped up to meet her brother as the attorney continued reading.
When she opened the front door, Russell was getting out of his car. His breath formed a smoky fog as he walked up the steps. “You’re late.” Deena took his coat and handed it to Marie who had walked up behind her.
“I almost didn’t come,” he whispered, blowing on his hands to warm them. “Estelle and I had a fight today. I’ll tell you about it later.”
They walked in and Estelle patted the sofa indicating she wanted Russell to sit next to her. She seemed relieved.
“Mr. Redmond, I think I’d prefer you just let us read the rest of the list for ourselves,” Estelle said. “I didn’t expect this to be quite so tedious. Would that be all right with you, Irene?
“Yes ma’am.” She shot an annoyed look at Russell.
Deena noticed that it was not the straight back chair making Irene sit so upright. She looked uncomfortable in the situation.
“If both parties agree, I will move on to the disposition of the property.” He turned several pages of the document until he found the one he wanted. Clearing his throat again, he began reading. “I, Carolyn Rose Brice Fitzhugh, being of sound mind and body, etcetera…leave all of my assets and debts to my daughter Estelle Rose Fitzhugh to be settled and bound upon my death, with the following provisions.” He looked over the top of his glasses at Estelle. “There is some legal jargon here about the executor and probating the will.” He stopped and drank a sip from his coffee.
Deena wondered if it was thirst or a flair for the dramatics that made him stop.
“Article one. I bequeath $100,000 each to the Fitzhugh Public Library, the Fitzhugh Women’s Shelter, and the Fitzhugh Public Park in Maycroft, Texas. Article two. I bequeath $100,000 to my great-nephew Roy Glenn Simms, III—Trey—of Bingham, Texas. Art
icle three. I bequeath $15,000 to my dear friend and employee Irene Harrison of Maycroft, Texas.”
Irene let out a gasp, and everyone turned her way. Deena couldn’t tell if she looked excited or disappointed.
Mr. Redmond continued. “Article four. I bequeath all property rights, including mineral rights, for the land designated as tract seven to Ronald Gilbert of Maycroft, Texas.”
It was Estelle’s turn to gasp. She looked at Deena and Russell, but then quickly regained her composure.
“Article five. I bequeath $50,000 to Barnabus Bigelow of Wolfshed, Texas.”
“Who?” Estelle looked confused.
“Barnabus Bigelow,” he repeated. “There is no relationship given.” He paused and drank another few sips of coffee. “That’s the gist of it. I have a very rough estimate of your inheritance, Miss Fitzhugh, based on last year’s tax return if you would like me to give it to you.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll meet with my accountant next week to sort all this out. Please, everyone, have some dessert.” She stood up and rang the bell. Marie entered promptly and began cutting the cake.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I think I’ll go to my room now,” Irene said.
“Oh, please stay, Irene. You are a guest this evening.”
Deena turned an ear toward the two women so she could better hear their conversation. They were close in age, although Irene was thinner and had darker brown hair that she usually wore pulled back in a bun.
“I know we haven’t talked about what’s going to happen now that Mother is gone, but I hope you know I want you to stay and continue working here,” Estelle said. “You have become an important part of the family. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” As she took a step forward, Irene took a step back.
“Thank you, Miss Fitzhugh,” she said stiffly. “I will let you know of my plans in the next few weeks.” Deena watched her leave the room. Estelle looked surprised by the response.
“Deena,” Russell said. “Come have some cake.”
She knew he was uncomfortable sitting alone with Mr. Redmond. Russell was quite congenial with people he knew, but shy and reserved with strangers.
After about fifteen minutes, Jim Redmond announced it was time to be getting back home. They all thanked him and Estelle walked him out.
“Whew. Survived another one.” Russell leaned back in his chair and relaxed.
“Are you okay? I’m worried that all this stress is going to bring on one of your migraines.”
“Me, too. So far it’s been okay.”
She set down her plate and reached for the cup Marie had refilled. “Wow. Estelle has more money than I thought. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. She—”
Estelle returned to the parlor and closed the doors behind her. She rushed over to sit next to Russell. “I’m so sorry.” She buried her head in his neck. “I should have told you the whole story.”
“It’s okay. As long as you tell me the truth, it’s okay.” He patted her on the back.
Deena felt awkward as the two began talking softly. She walked down the hall to the powder room to give them privacy. Staring in the gold mirror with little carved cherubs, she thought about the early days of her relationship with Gary. They would fight and make up, usually unable to remember what they had argued over in the first place. She missed the passion. Still, she thought as she looked at her gray roots in the mirror, she wouldn’t trade the relationship they had now for anything. Gary was her best friend and their love was deeper than mere passion.
After a few minutes, she walked back in and could see that whatever was wrong seemed to have been resolved. Russell had his arm draped across Estelle’s shoulders and she was nestled up next to him.
“Is everything okay with you two?” She picked up her coffee and took a sip. It was probably going to keep her awake, but she couldn’t resist the rich aroma.
“All’s well,” Russell said and gave her a nod.
“So who is the stranger your mother left money to?” Deena asked.
“I have no idea. I’ve never heard of him.” Russell picked up the folder of papers the attorney had left and handed it to Estelle. “Find the spelling of his name, and I’ll look him up on my phone.”
“Here it is.” She read out the letters.
Russell entered the information and began scrolling through the results.
Deena lowered her voice. “What about Irene? I couldn’t read her reaction. If someone just gave me $15,000, I’d at least smile.”
“Maybe she expected more. After all, she has worked for mother for almost twenty years. I should probably give her extra. But the way she spoke to me just now gave me the creeps.”
“Do you think she’ll stay on here? Does she have family? Where do they live?”
“Hold on, madam reporter. One question at a time. I don’t know if she’ll stay. I want her to… I think. She has family in Louisiana. That’s all I really know.”
“And Mr. Gilbert? Could he possibly have known the mineral rights for his property were in the will?”
Estelle shook her head. “I don’t know. If so, it might be a motive.”
“Your mother was full of surprises. I wish I had gotten to know her better.”
Russell put his phone back in his pocket. “Can’t find anything on the internet. You sure you have never heard of this guy?”
“Positive. With a name like ‘Barnabus Bigelow,’ I think I’d remember.”
Deena set down her cup. “So, I guess we need to find out who he is and if he belongs on the list of suspects.”
“Speaking of lists,” Estelle said, “I finally got one from the night of the party. Irene wasn’t helpful at all, so I told Wendy I would ask around myself.” She retrieved a folded paper from an ornate box sitting on the large bookshelf. “Marie was apparently the only one who paid any attention to what was going on that night. She wrote out this list of non-staff she remembered seeing in the kitchen.” Estelle handed it to Deena who read it aloud.
“Miss Carolyn’s friend with bushy eyebrows. Man with red hair. Miss Estelle’s boyfriend. ”
“Me?” He sounded startled. “I never left the ballroom. I barely got there in time for the party to start.”
“I remember,” Estelle said and gave him a wink.
“And Mr. Gilbert.” The name sent a chill down her spine. “He’s definitely a suspect now.”
“The friend with bushy eyebrows is Tilly George. She and Mother have been friends for years. She got here early to see if there was anything she could do to help. Mother asked her to look in on the kitchen staff so she would feel useful. I’m not worried about her at all.”
“What about the man with red hair?” Deena handed the list back to Estelle.
She shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone at the party with that description.” She put the list back in the box and returned it to the bookshelf. “By the way, Jeffrey Mortimer from the funeral home called. The Medical Examiner is releasing mother’s body on Monday, and the service is going to be next Thursday. Will you make sure they get the notice in the newspaper?”
“Of course,” Deena said. “By the way, did anyone ever find the missing butcher knife?”
“Not that I’ve heard. I’ll ask Irene tomorrow.”
Russell picked up the will. “I’m interested in this Bigelow fella. Maybe we should take a road trip and pay him a visit. He should be happy since he’s now $50,000 richer.”
“Money is the root of all evil,” Estelle said to Russell.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had much.”
Deena laughed at her brother. “Well, after what happened today, Penelope Burrows is off the list.” She gave a quick recap of her encounter at the library. “Right now, we should focus on Mr. Gilbert and the mystery heir.” She stood up and looked around for her coat. Luckily, instead of ringing the bell, Estelle went to get it herself.
Deena waited until Estelle was out of earshot. “Glad you two w
orked things out.”
“Me, too,” Russell whispered. “Only one problem. I’ve never really trusted rich people, and I’m not positive I can trust Estelle.”
Chapter Eight
Sitting in the office of Lloyd Pryor at the Northeast Texas Tribune used to intimidate Deena. Now that she had gotten to really know the editor-in-chief, she felt comfortable plopping down in one of several overstuffed chairs and discussing the latest story leads. The regional newspaper covered local news across three counties and published every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
Besides a nose for news, she and her boss had something else in common. They were both teachers at heart. Lloyd was a seasoned journalist and did what he could to help bring along the younger members of his staff. He had worked for years in Baltimore but moved back to Texas ten years earlier so his wife could take care of her ailing parents.
The place was hopping on Friday in preparation for Saturday’s edition. She wanted to check in with Laurie to make sure she included the time and date of the funeral service in the feature she was writing on Carolyn. Lloyd had told Deena she could take a few weeks off to deal with personal business. Little in the way of local politics ever happened in early December anyway, especially with the state legislature out of session.
Lloyd huddled over a large cinnamon bear claw and steaming cup of brew. Sticking her head in the door, she asked, “So what’s news today?” She fully expected his usual quip of ‘Nothing. What’s news with you?’ But instead, Pryor motioned for her to come in. He had that look in his eye. It’s a glint that shrewd reporters get when they sense a story is in sniffing distance.
“I know you said you were helping out your brother and Estelle Fitzhugh for the next few weeks, but I get a sense there’s more to it. Are you going to spill the beans or make me beat it out of you?”
Her face flushed and her nose tickled. She had never been a very good liar. Too much of a conscience, probably. She shuffled her feet like a schoolgirl called out by the principal. It was no use. “It could be something or it could be nothing.”
Sharpe Edge (Cozy Suburbs Mystery Series) Page 6
