The Daughters of Julian Dane

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The Daughters of Julian Dane Page 27

by Lucile McCluskey


  “This is all so hard to believe of Miss Willy,” Della said.

  Cutler chucked, “Wait ‘til I tell you about Ryker’s big bomb. You see, her knowing that Dane’s death was immanent, and that she would inherit his estate, the two of them got busy accumulating cash. Dane’s cash. To the amount of one million dollars, and they sold Nickelos Dane Stonegate, lock, stock, and barrel so to speak, knowing she would get it back just as soon as he died. But they wanted cash to get on with their plans. So now, Addie, you own Stonegate and everything in it, and I do mean everything – every cup and saucer, dish towel, bed linens, and paintings on the walls. If it’s in Stonegate, you own it, according to the deed Wilhelmina had drawn up.”

  Addie and Della gasped. They were absolutely struck dumb for a few moments. Then Della asked incredulously, “You mean Nickelos Dane owned Stonegate, and Addie inherited his entire estate, so she now owns Stonegate?”

  “That’s right, Della. Oh, may I call you Della? Mrs. Martin seems so formal.”

  “Of course,” Della said as Addie let out a small screech. They both looked at her as she sat there with her mouth open in disbelief. Neither of them could help but chuckle at her.

  “Addie, you own Stonegate and everything in it, but it’s a white elephant. The upkeep is prohibitive. It would eat up your income from your other properties in no time. And since your estate is mostly real estate, that would leave you just your bank stock. You are the largest stock holder, and the dividends are paid in October.” He looked at Della. “And, Della, that alone will give your family enough income to live very comfortably. And, Addie, if this town ever gets back on it’s feet, well, you own most of it, and you will be one very wealthy young lady.”

  “Wow!” Addie finally exclaimed. “Mama, can you believe this?”

  “It’s incredible,” Della said just above a whisper.

  “I’m not sure how many of your storefronts are vacant right now, Addie. That was Ryker’s responsibility. He did the renting, set the rents, and did the collecting. And, Addie, Della, until I have time to go over Ryker’s books and records, I won’t know exactly how you stand. I know the bank is planning to foreclose on some of the farms you own, but there is money in the various accounts to pay bills that are due. I just need a little time to get a handle on things.

  “However, I do have a bank card for the two of you to sign for Addie. We can’t have her come into this inheritance and walk away empty handed. I’m going to put fifteen thousand in a checking account for you until I can sort things out and get back to you in just a few days. Is that agreeable?”

  Addie sucked in her breath and sat with her mouth open again until Della touched her arm. Grant Cutler smiled happily. He was enjoying Addie’s response to everything he was telling her.

  “You know best, Mr. Cutler,” Della agreed.

  “It’s ‘Grant’, remember? And here are some checks you can use. The bank will be closed tomorrow for Good Friday, but they’ll open half a day Saturday. We’ll get you some printed checks, which the bank will mail to you in a few days. My secretary, Elinor Weston will take this card to the bank on Monday morning. I gave her the weekend off to spend Easter with relatives in Nashville. Otherwise, Addie, Della, she is always here if I’m out of the office and you need me for anything. Now, let’s attend to the legal matter of this guardianship.”

  Addie was quiet and thoughtful as they left Grant Cutler’s office. She sat in the car looking down at the blank checks. “I wish daddy had been here. I know fifteen thousand is a lot of money, but not enough to really do much of anything with. We can’t buy him a new truck with it, but we can get new clothes for all of us.”

  “Now, honey, Mr. Cutler said just give him a little time until he sees how things stand. You may not be the richest woman in the county, but just think of all you have inherited.”

  “Oh, I know, Mama! I still can’t believe it! But, but, well, I wish it wasn’t all real estate that’s not going anywhere, like he said. And Stonegate! Can you believe we own Stonegate? Now we can go see inside of it. Can’t we?”

  Della laughed. “Just remember, he said it’s a liability, not an asset until he sells it.” She looked down at the topless cigar box on the seat between them, as she drove. “What on earth did you want with that?” she asked.

  “They’re keys to houses and places that are vacant. Surely, if I have all these empty houses, I can find one that Deena and her mother can move into. If they don’t have to pay rent, maybe Deena won’t have to quit school and go to work. Even if she could find a job,” she added.

  “Why, honey, Mr. Cutler isn’t going to let you move people into houses and them not pay rent.”

  “Mama! These are my houses, and farms, and business places. That’s what he said, isn’t it? They don’t belong to him. They belong to me, and I can do with them as I please,” she said forcefully.

  Della looked at her daughter in surprise. She was right, but this was not the gentle, meek Addie that she knew and loved. She was so happy that Addie was just herself now, free to find out who she is without Vicki Dane controlling any part of her, but a new person seemed to be evolving. Was she going to have to get re-acquainted with her daughter?

  Grant Cutler flipped the switch that turned on the outside lights to his office building before he pulled the door shut, then walked to his Lincoln Continental parked at the side of the building. He would come back after Janie’s wine and cheese tasting affair and work a couple of hours in Ryker’s office. Although he enjoyed these neighborhood socials at the Willis’ house, he would have begged off this time except he was sure Clay Dewitt would be there. He hoped Clay could work him into his busy schedule, or steer him to another CPA somewhere in the vicinity.

  He didn’t like Mel Johnson much, but he hoped she had made her cheese straws with just that hint of garlic that he liked. He also hoped that someone would bring some white cheddar. He never needed dinner after one of these, and he was grateful that the Colonel had sent his father all the good wine that he had, while he was traveling the world in the Air Force.

  Thinking about it, he had to chuckle. Clyde Willis thought his father had become a big wine drinker, when all the while, he was creating a wine cellar in his dirt floored basement. Willis had come home after his father’s death to find every bottle of wine that he had sent him stored in a perfect wine cellar.

  But he had to hurry if he was to have time to shower first. His time with Addie and Della had taken longer than he had planned, but he had enjoyed it, even if his curiosity had not been satisfied. What on earth could the relationship be with Addie and Wilhelmina that they thought he wouldn’t believe? And why had Wilhelmina said that the legacy belonged to Addie? And how was it possible for the girl to look so much like Julian Dane who had been dead for so long?

  He had just turned off River Road onto Forrest Lane. Then he saw it, a black car in his driveway. He speeded up until he could get close enough to his house to determine if it was the car he was afraid it was. And it was. Helene’s black BMW was sitting in his driveway. Now what? Why was she here?

  He drove into his driveway and parked beside his ex-wife’s car. He didn’t intend to slam the car door, but he did. His front door was unlocked. He didn’t see her when he entered his house. “Helene!” he called louder than he intended. She appeared at the top of the stairway in a bathrobe. “What are you doing here?” he demanded as she came rushing down the stairs, her blond hair bouncing about her shoulders.

  “Well, I must say you don’t seem very glad to see me.”

  “Am I supposed to be?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt. Especially since I’ve come all this way hoping that we might possibly get back together.” She was standing in front of him, her hazel eyes twinkling, her smile showing her perfect white teeth, her firm, full breast almost touching his chest.

  Using that smile in a bewitching manner, she said, “Darling, Grant, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve made a terrible mistake. We belong together, and I was
too stupid to realize it.”

  “Did you eat my pear?” he asked, looking at the perfect bowl of fruit sitting on the foyer table that he had prepared to take to the Willis’ house. He had placed a perfect Bartlett pear right on top. Now it was missing.

  “What? Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m offering ...”

  “I heard you, Helene,” he said irritability as he walked around her toward the stairs.

  “Where are you going? I want us to go out to dinner at the Log House, and then spend a nice quiet evening at home, so we can talk.”

  “Helene, I’m in a hurry, and this is no longer your home. Remember? Not since you walked out of it over two years ago,” he added, taking the stairs two at a time. At the top, he saw his open bedroom door, her clothing all over the room. “Come up here and get your clothes out of my bedroom, put them back in your suitcase, put your suitcase back in your car, and get out of my house. Leave my key on the hall table.” He turned to find her right behind him.

  “I can’t,” she said meekly. “I have no place to go, and no money.”

  “Oh. Did mama catch you and her new husband, the Judge, playing doctor? Which one kicked you out?”

  “Neither. I left. He wouldn’t keep his hands off me.”

  “What happened to the Title mama had picked out for you to marry?”

  Surprised, she asked, “How did you know about that?”

  “Oh, you know me. Never say die. For a while I thought I should keep tabs on you just to make sure you were doing okay.”

  “Friendly Grace Hibbett, no doubt.”

  He shrugged.

  “Mama thought the Title came with money, and he thought that I did. Of course, mama has plenty, but I don’t.” She looked at Grant pleadingly.

  “Yeah. Divorce settlements have been a good living for your mother, but, Helene, you didn’t like small town life when we moved here six years ago. You didn’t like a husband who was satisfied just being a small town lawyer. You liked the Washington scene and wanted a more ambitious husband. I couldn’t take Washington anymore, and when dad offered me his practice, it was like a new lease on life. I couldn’t wait to turn in my key to the wash room. Helene, nothing has changed.”

  “I can change,” she pleaded.

  Grant sighed impatiently. “You know,” he said, “It takes two to make a marriage, and long before you walked out, I had begun to realize that I was alone in our marriage, but, Helene, my dad taught me a few old time values. One was the sanctity of marriage. Against my better judgment, if you can truthfully tell me that you have not bedded down with any other man since you left me, I will consider your offer. And remember I said ‘consider’.”

  She hesitated a moment. “Well, I didn’t until after I filed for divorce,” she said hopefully.

  “I’d certainly hope not, since you filed for divorce the next week after you left.” He was taking out his billfold. He handed her what bills he had in it. “This is all I have on me, Helene. It’ll buy you a few nights in a decent motel, gas and food for a few days. I suggest you find yourself a job – not in Riverbend. Goodbye and good luck.”

  He turned and went into his bedroom, got fresh underwear out of his dresser, entered his bathroom, pitched a bra from the towel rack into the bedroom and shut the door. Why did she have to louse up his day?

  When he came out of the bathroom, he heard the front door slam, and a few minutes later, her car screeching out of the driveway. He sighed. At least it didn’t hurt anymore. He was late. He hoped Janie would forgive him, and any others waiting for his bowl of fruit.

  He walked the two doors down to the Willis’ house. The front door was open, no doubt waiting for him. Janie saw him through the glass storm door as he walked up onto the porch, and she rushed to greet him. She was one elegant looking woman. He wondered if Clyde Willis appreciated what he had, or if Ben Martin did either. That Della was a beauty. He was glad that the Martins had inherited Dane’s estate.

  Janie Willis was tall and slim but padded in all the right places. Her heavy, cold black hair, parted in the middle, was pulled back to a chignon on the back of her neck. She had a creamy white complexion, a full red mouth, and smoky blue eyes. She didn’t walk, she glided. Her voice was low and soft as she exclaimed, “Oh, Grant, you didn’t disappoint me. I knew you’d make it even though I saw you had a guest. Make yourself at home,” she added. Thanking him for the fruit, she took the bowl and vanished through a swinging door to the kitchen.

  A younger woman in a maid’s uniform sat on a stool at the kitchen island filling wineglasses from a bottle of fine red wine. A pair of crutches leaned against the counter beside her. She raised her head of honey blond hair to rest her violet blue eyes on Janie Willis.

  “Here. Stop that!” Janie demanded, as she plopped down the bowl of fruit. “He would have to be late. This is to be cut up like I showed you the last time, and placed on that large glass tray there. Do I need to show you again?”

  “Nooo, Janie.”

  “Don’t call me Janie with other people around,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Willis. I guess I had something on my mind.”

  “You seem to have something on your mind a lot lately. Keep your mind on what you’re doing,” she said harshly.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Don’t call me Jimmy Lee, call me Janie, don’t call me Janie, call me Mrs. Willis. What next? The woman wondered.

  Janie Willie left her kitchen, with a smile on her face, to rejoin her guests. She paused by the generously laden dining room table, grateful that her guests insisted on contributing to the fare. At least Clyde couldn’t complain about the money she spent when all he was furnishing was the wine. And he drank very little of it, for which she was glad.

  Grant noticed Janie as he accepted wine from his host. He wondered how many years difference there was in their ages, at least fifteen or more, he thought. Janie seemed to be listening to a group of women in serious conversation. He wondered what, or who, was the topic of their chatter?

  “Well, Grant, are you going to let us in on the contents of Wilhelmina Stone’s will?” Col. Willis asked.

  “Afraid not, Clyde.”

  “But where will all that money go? She didn’t have any other relatives, did she?”

  “Not that anyone knows of.” If they only knew that there was no ‘all of that money’, not even as much as one of them would leave in a will. Unless Ryker was telling the truth, and she had given him only part of the one million she got for Stonegate. Heaven knows, he had searched every place in Stonegate where Wilhelmina could have stashed seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash. So, what could she have done with it? Or was Ryker lying? As soon as he could, he’d try again, before someone else found it.

  “I’m sure Ryker will have some news for us come rent collecting time on Monday,” Batey Adcock, whose printing business was housed in one of the storefronts on the Square, said.

  No. There’ll be no Ryker collecting rent on Monday, Grant thought. And he smiled big thinking that Batey’s new landlord was a sixteen year old girl in outgrown jeans. Oh, boy! He thought. If they only knew? What a circus this would turn into. But he had done more explaining in this one day than he had wanted to. He was not answering any more questions. And there was plenty more of them.

  “What about Stonegate? What will happen to it? Was this Dane fellow really Miss Willy’s nephew? Where was Ryker? He wasn’t seen at the funeral or the burying. How old was this Dane fellow? Then, I heard from a girl who works for Dr. Bradley that he didn’t have much longer to live anyhow.”

  So it didn’t matter that he falls to his death, Grant thought. How unfeeling could people be? He moved to the dining room table where Janie was fussing with the arrangement of the platter of fruit. She was listening to those women, he could tell. And as soon as he neared them, the questions began. “Was Miss Willy really seventy-three? Had it really been fifty years since she had left Stonegate? Why w
ould she shut herself up like that? Do you know, Grant?”

  “No. I don’t. I wish I did. I don’t suppose anybody knows, or ever will know now.” A few feet away, Mel Johnson was holding court. “Don’t you think it rather strange that the Reverend Kirkland left town, bag and baggage, at about the same time as the accident? I don’t see how there could have been any connection. Still it does seem strange, don’t you think,” she was asking the few women around her. One of whom was the pretty plump wife of Clay Dewitt. So he had to be here, looking around, he didn’t see him.

  Janie approached him, “Some of the ladies were afraid you weren’t going to make it, and they were anxious to see you.”

  “Yeah. I’m a very popular guy these days,” he said as he heard Mel Johnson’s continued conversation.

  “And the nerve of her just walking straight to the family seats, and the two of them sitting down like they belonged there. And why were they there?”

  “Maybe they had never been to a funeral before and didn’t know those seats were for family only,” another said.

  “Did any of you hear about her and that preacher, that Reverend Kirkland?” Several of the women began to comment at the same time, until Mel Johnson asked, “What did you hear?”

  “Well, my sister-in-law said that Eve Mobley’s daughter caught Mrs. Martin coming out of the parsonage still putting her clothes together, and she asked Evelyn Ann to take her to that convenience market on the corner to get something to eat, said she hadn’t eaten all day. Evelyn Ann told her mother that the woman looked like she was about to faint.”

  “Really? The only time I’ve ever gone without food for a whole day was when I was having morning sickness.”

 

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