“Lame in what way?”
“It doesn’t even come close to answering the really big question.”
“Which is?”
Jack reached for his wallet to pay the bill, knowing without even asking that Theo had “forgotten” his again. He looked at Theo and said, “The question five people just died trying to answer: Who gets the money?”
Sixty-four
I’m going back to Africa,” said Rene.
She was standing on Jack’s front step, dressed in a sleeveless shell and a pair of jeans that fit loosely but still couldn’t deny her figure. Jack stood in the open doorway to his house, not sure what to say. “So soon?”
“I’m afraid so. I was on my way to the airport. Just thought I’d stop by, say thanks.”
“I’m glad you did. Come on in, please. If you’ve got a minute.”
“Thanks.”
Jack stepped aside and let her pass. Theo came from the kitchen to greet them. He’d been out fishing in the boat he kept behind Jack’s house, and he smelled of it.
“Sorry for the odor,” he said.
“No problem. My tolerance is quite high.”
He had to think a moment, then Jack said, “Rene’s on her way back to Africa.”
“Ah,” said Theo. “Back to fight the slave traders, are you?”
“My work isn’t finished there.”
“Good for you. You’re one amazing babe, you know that?”
“Thank you. Sort of.”
“Hey, I was wondering about something,” said Theo. “A while ago on TV I saw something about how the same rush you get from eating chocolate also comes from having sex.”
“Theo, come on,” said Jack.
“It has to do with the part of the brain that’s stimulated,” said Rene.
“Exactly. Which means that people who don’t have enough sex are the ones who crave chocolate, right?”
“I suppose that follows.”
He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Does that mean that people who don’t have chocolate crave sex?”
She just smiled.
“Theo,” said Jack, groaning.
“Well, shit, Swyteck. She’s gonna be three thousand miles away sleeping by herself in some hovel by the time you ever get around to asking her.”
“Theo, would you mind getting us something to drink?”
He considered it, then said, “Got just the thing. Be right back.”
Jack waited until his friend disappeared into the kitchen, then he offered Rene a seat in the living room. They sat in armchairs on opposite sides of the cocktail table, facing each other.
“He’s nonstop entertainment, isn’t he?” said Rene.
“He’s nonstop. I’ll give him that much.”
They shared a smile, then Jack said, “You mind if I ask you something a little personal?”
“I might not. Depends on what it is.”
“It’s about Sally.”
“That seems like fair territory, after all you’ve been through.”
“It puzzles me that she put the whole forty-six million dollars into this game she created for six-or as it turned out, five-people she considered enemies. Seems to me that she could have accomplished the same objective with forty-six million or twenty-six million or even six million.”
“She went with everything she had.”
“That’s exactly what confuses me. A guy like Tatum would have fought just as hard for a lot less money. I guess what I’m saying is this: She didn’t have to completely disinherit her sister. She could have left you twenty million dollars and let the others fight over the remaining twenty-six.”
“She could have. But she didn’t.”
Jack waited for her to say more, then simply asked, “Why not?”
She lowered her eyes, as if searching for the fortitude to say what she was about to say. “That’s one of the things I came here to tell you.”
Jack didn’t even realize it, but he had scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Yes?”
“Turns out she didn’t disinherit me.”
Jack blinked, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “Say that again?”
“One of my jobs as personal representative of Sally’s estate is to find all wills and codicils. Well, turns out there was another will.”
“Another will?”
“Yes. It was in French. She kept it in a safe deposit box in Paris. It postdates the one she made in Florida.”
“Which means that it supersedes the one she made in Florida.”
“That’s my understanding.”
“And it leaves her fortune to…?”
Her expression turned very serious. “To me.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. Everything.”
Jack couldn’t help but smile. “That’s beautiful. So that means these jokers here in Florida were fighting, clawing, and literally killing each other over a will that was…”
“Not worth the paper it was written on,” she said flatly.
“What do you know?” said Jack.
“Yeah. What do you know?”
“Or maybe the more important question is, What did you know?”
“Meaning what?”
“Were you surprised when you found that will? Or did you know that Sally had AIDS? Know that she was planning some kind of scheme to destroy her enemies, to get even with the people who hadruined her life? Know that she’d guaranteed herself the last postmortem laugh with a second will that left everything to her sister?”
“I was hoping that you and I could agree that I was totally surprised.”
“Do I have reason to think otherwise?”
“Not unless you want to believe that I stood by and watched this bloodbath play out, knowing full well that I alone had the power to reveal the existence of this second will and put a stop to it.”
“I hate to think you’d do that.”
“I would never do that. Mind you, I’m not overwhelmed with grief over the passing of any of them. The divorce lawyer, the prosecutor, the reporter who wanted to get rich and famous writing that damn book. Every last one of them made life unlivable for Sally. But I’m a healer, not a killer.”
Jack considered it. She was looking him straight in the eye, and he could feel it all the way to his bones. He wanted to believe her, and he felt convinced. He’d been fooled before, big time, by his ex, and he was pretty sure he knew the difference.
Theo emerged from the kitchen with six glasses on a tray, three of them cocktail glasses and the others filled with water. “Drinks?” he said.
Rene said, “I’d like to, but with all this added security at the airport, I really have to be going. I’m sorry. Rain check?”
“Sure.” Jack rose to see her out. She said good-bye to Theo, who obviously couldn’t help himself and had to give her a hug, fish stench and all. Jack walked her to the door.
“So, what are you going to do with all that money?”
“Hmmm…I know this really good charity in Africa.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Of course, I’m not an idiot. I was thinking I might squirrel away one or two million for my early retirement.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, too.”
“Anyway, you might be surprised to see how much forty-something million can do for my little operation. Come visit sometime.” She took a half-step forward and kissed him at the corner of the mouth. “Anytime, actually.”
He watched from the front porch as she walked to her rental car. Theo joined him and offered a drink.
“Gonna let her go, huh?”
“She’ll be back.”
“No, she won’t.”
He took a breath, then let it out. “You are right again, my friend.”
Theo forced the glass into Jack’s hand. “Have one of these. You’ll feel better.”
Jack downed the drink, then cringed and immediately chased it with one of the tall glasses of water. “Whoa! I think my mou
th’s on fire.”
“That’s because the vodka’s so cold it almost burns going down. Or it could be I overshot on the jalapeño juice.”
“Jalapeño? What the hell is this thing?”
“Flaming Wild Banshee.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Lover boy and me just invented it a few days ago.”
Jack did a double take, recalling how Theo had threatened Javier into spilling his guts. “I don’t think it’s going to catch on.”
“Damn. I was hoping it would make us rich.”
Rene’s car door slammed, and as he heard the engine start, he couldn’t help but imagine Rene stepping off the airplane in Abidjan, taking that long and dusty road outside Korhogo, and finally trading in that fly-infested shack with dirt walls and a rotting roof for a decent place to live and treat her patients. He thought also of Gerry Colletti and the others, the ones who’d literally died trying to snag Sally’s fortune. And then he caught Rene’s eye as she was backing out of the driveway, and he saw the contentment all over her face, the same kind of contentment that made Theo so much fun to be around.
He gave Theo a little smile and said, “Now, why would anybody want to be rich?”
“You want me to list the reasons alphabetically by subject matter, or numerically from one to forty-six million?”
Jack chuckled, his eyes clouding over as Rene beeped the horn and drove away. “Theo?”
“Yeah?”
“I could really use a vacation. You think I’d be crazy if I took it in Africa?”
Theo belted back a Flaming Wild Banshee without so much as a grimace. “I think you’d be crazy if you didn’t.”
Acknowledgments
Carolyn Marino and Richard Pine were as usual a tremendous help in shaping this story, but my gratitude goes way beyond that. Whenever aspiring writers ask my advice, I tell them that rule number one is “Keep it fun.” I’m not sure how you do that without the best editor and agent in the business, but thankfully that’s something I don’t have to worry about.
As always, I am indebted to my readers/critics-at-large for the comments on early manuscripts, Dr. Gloria M. Grippando (thanks, Mom), Eleanor Rayner, Amy Kovner, and Cece Sanford. Wesley Reid was more helpful than he realizes on traveling in Africa (be careful what you say, it might end up in a book), and on the legal side I am again grateful to probate attorney Clay Craig for his insights into “the Slayer Statute” and other mysterious doings in the world of “Whisper Court.” Of course, the mistakes are all mine, including those in Found Money. (Okay, Clay, are we square now?)
Many people contributed to my understanding of modern-day child slave trading in Africa, including Sudarsan Raghavan and Sumana Chatterjee; the staff of U.S. Senator Tom Harkin, Chairman, Senate Agricultural Committee; and a long list of other people at Anti-Slavery International, the U.S. Department of Labor, the United Nations, International Labour Organisation, Free the Slaves, and the Child Labor Coalition. Thank you as well to the Chocolate Manufacturers Association of the United States of America, American Cocoa Research Institute, and the World Cocoa Foundation, which provided information on the international chocolate industry and the harvest of cocoa.
Once again, I got a little help on character names, this time from the Roberts family, whose generous contribution at the annual auction in support of St. Thomas Episcopal Parish School in Coral Gables, Florida, earned them a fictional trip to Africa. For an extra five hundred bucks, I would have packed you bug spray. Better luck next year.
Finally, for Tiffany-Thank you, I love you, I could write a book about you. But I promise you, I won’t.
About the Author
James Grippando is the bestselling author of eight novels-Last to Die and Beyond Suspicion, which, along with The Pardon, feature Miami criminal attorney Jack Swyteck-A Kingís Ransom; Under Cover of Darkness; Found Money; The Abduction; The Informant. James Grippando’s novels are enjoyed worldwide in fourteen languages. He lives in Florida, where he was a trial lawyer for twelve years. Visit www.jamesgrippando.com.
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