Mr. Clayton rubbed her arm. “He had tremendous faith in you, and he was so very proud of your accomplishments. He always said if you weren’t his best friend, you would be—”
“The perfect wife,” she finished for him. “Yeah, I had the honor of being the lone woman in the world he thought matched his greatness. Kenny thought that was the highest compliment. He really loved himself.”
“He did indeed. It’s hard to believe he…”
“It’s impossible, Mr. Clayton.”
Three deep lines formed in the space between his eyebrows, marking his confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t—I’m having trouble believing Kenny could kill himself. He loved himself and life too much to do something like that.”
“Darci, sweetie, I know how close you were to him and…”
“Yes, I was very close to him, but it’s not just about that. It’s knowing Kenny. He wouldn’t kill himself.”
“From what I heard, all the evidence says otherwise.”
“That evidence is wrong, Mr. Clayton.” She reached into her purse and handed him a dollar. “It’s only a buck, but consider it a retainer for now. Just so what I tell you will stay between you and me.”
He pocketed the dollar. “You have my full confidence. What’s on your mind?”
“I’m going to work my own investigation. I need to find out what happened to Kenny.”
“Darci, you know what happened to him. We all know.”
“That’s just it, Mr. Clayton, I don’t know. What I know is Kenny wouldn’t kill himself. All my questions about his death, this unlikely death, keep coming back to that.”
“Do you know what you’re saying?”
“Yes, somebody killed him, and his murderer is out free.”
Mr. Clayton dragged his hand over his sun-kissed face. Normally, Darci would think he did it to wipe away perspiration from the morning heat, but that move appeared done out of sheer frustration. She’d seen a lot of that lately, especially after sharing her opinion on this matter.
“Darci,” he began.
She shook her head. He had that “poor girl” look in his eyes. “Mr. Clayton, please. I don’t need your pity or for you to tell me I’m nuts. I’ve gotten enough of that from Detective McGraw.”
“Steed McGraw is a really good detective. I think what he says holds some merit.”
“You think I’m crazy, too?”
“Not crazy, just emotionally invested. You don’t want to believe your best friend killed himself, but that’s what he did, Darci. Facts don’t lie.”
“What about my facts? Don’t they count for something?”
“In this case, no, they don’t.”
She hung her head. Why couldn’t somebody be on her side for a change?
Mr. Clayton raised her lowered chin. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings, Darci. That’s the last thing I want to do. However, I do want to spare you a painful, and what could prove humiliating, experience if you persist in finding some phantom killer. You need to accept what’s true. Kenny is dead by his own hand.”
“Fine,” she said, now wishing she hadn’t said anything at all. Mr. Clayton was the newest citizen of Sterling to join her cousin and Steed McGraw as people who thought she was off her spool. She had a great deal of respect for the barrister, but like all the others, he was wrong, too.
“You sure you’re up to this?” he asked.
Darci nodded. “Yes, sir, I am.”
“All right.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and directed her to the house. “Let’s go inside.”
* * *
Steed reviewed the contents of the Warwick file over and over. Everything was cut and dried. Why couldn’t Darci accept that? Why did she insist on finding a conspiracy where none existed? He rubbed his forehead, hoping to ward off the blinding headache threatening to roadblock his thinking process. He needed to get his mind off this case, to have a moment of solace. To talk to someone who wouldn’t give him grief. He pulled out his cell phone and placed a call to Fort Worth.
“Hello.”
Tension fell from Steed’s body like leaves from trees in autumn. Just the sound of that wonderful voice made everything okay. “Hello, Nana.”
“Steed, sweetie, how are you?”
“Better now.”
Seventy-three-year-old Jean Reynolds epitomized the term Southern belle. With strawberry blonde hair, freckled skin, and an accent so thick it made Scarlett O’Hara’s sound like a Yankee, Nana was the balm that soothed his every emotional scrape. Steed had never known his mother’s parents, and his father’s folks had died when Steed was a young boy, so finding a grandparent in Jean was an unexpected and pleasant surprise.
“How are you, Mom, and everyone?” Steed asked.
“Everyone?”
He knew she meant Josh, her son and his stepfather. Steed didn’t think much of Josh, but he loved the man’s mother with all his heart. He’d felt an amazing kinship with Jean from the moment his mom, Beth, introduced them, but fought those feelings for a long time. It had been more than a year since his father’s death, but the idea of his mother being interested in another man devastated Steed. It took nearly a year after their meeting for Nana to break down his defenses, but she’d succeeded, making the sting of his mother’s marriage to Josh, when Steed was fourteen, a little easier to take. But just a little.
“Yeah, everyone,” Steed said.
“Everybody’s fine. Josh and Beth drove to Austin to look at a few horses. They should be back in a couple of days. Brett started at the newspaper last week, and Lori’s little ones are keeping her busy. You should come down for a visit. You work too hard, and we haven’t seen you since Christmas.”
“I have to work hard, Nana. Right now I’m the only detective, so if I wanted to leave I couldn’t. Plus, I’m up for a promotion and there’s this case I’m working.”
“That’s good about the promotion, but this case must be a tough one. You sound tired, weighed down.”
He couldn’t keep much from his nana. “It’s complicated.”
“Does it involve a woman?”
“Nana,” he dragged out like a whining four-year-old.
“Case or not, a man doesn’t sound like you sound right now if there’s not a woman involved.”
“There’s a woman involved, but not like you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking, Steed?”
“You know what you’re thinking, Nana.”
“Is she nice?”
She was when she wasn’t driving him crazy. “She’s different,” Steed said.
“I bet she’s real pretty.”
“She’s gorgeous.” Too gorgeous.
“What’s the problem?”
Steed combed his fingers through his hair and groaned. He still needed a haircut. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”
“This girl doesn’t like you?”
“No, I don’t think she does, but I haven’t given her much reason to. I’ve been a bit short with her.”
“She’s not a criminal, is she?”
He chuckled. “No, ma’am, she’s not a criminal. She’s a reporter.”
“Is she on TV?”
“Yep, she’s on TV.”
“Why are you being rude to her?”
“I don’t know. Well, I do know. She’s making this case impossible. And if I don’t satisfy her concerns, I probably won’t get my promotion. She said I’m stubborn, Nana, and Chief Rogers thinks I’m not a people person. Can you believe that?”
Jean said nothing for several moments. “Are you still there?” Steed asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you hear me?”
“I might be old, but I’m not dead or deaf. I was just considering what you said.”
“Considering it?”
“Steed, do you want the truth?”
“Always,” he answered.
“Your lady friend and Chief Rogers are both right.”
Steed’s
jaw dropped. Had his nana implied he was a jerk?
“You’re not a bad person, Steed…”
“Just a stubborn one who can’t be nice to people.”
“You can work on the stubbornness, but it’ll take time.”
“And my people skills?”
“How do you think they are?”
“I think I relate fine with people. I just don’t coddle.”
“Being pleasant isn’t coddling. Can I say what I think?”
“Absolutely,” he said, as if she wouldn’t anyway.
“I think you keep people at a distance so as not to be hurt. When we met, you were a sad, lonely, and angry thirteen-year-old who was missing his father terribly. You wouldn’t give poor Josh an inch.”
“I know he loves my mother, Nana, but he’s not my father. He’ll never be my father.”
“And that’s the problem. Steed, you never got over your father’s death, and because of that, you keep yourself closed off from people.”
“I didn’t do that with you.”
“You tried, but I wouldn’t let you succeed. You’re good at shutting people out, but when somebody really cares, and you feel in spite of yourself, something wonderful can happen. Look at the two of us. I couldn’t love you more if my blood was running through your veins,” Jean said. “You’re my grandson, and as your nana, I’m telling you this so you don’t ruin what could be something good for you. I’ve waited a long time for you to call me about a girl.”
“Nana, I didn’t say I was calling about a girl.”
“Sure you did.” She laughed. “What’s her name?”
“Darci.” Steed flipped through the folder yet again.
“That’s a nice name, for a nice girl.”
A reluctant smile turned his lips. Darci was nice. Infuriating, but nice. And she was beautiful, and intelligent, and nerve-wracking. She drove him nuts.
“You be nice to her, Steed, and try to be nicer to people. I want you to get your promotion.”
“I want me to get my promotion, too.”
“Do what I say, and you’ll get it. And if you mind yourself, you’ll get the girl, too. You call me, Steed. I want to know what’s going on.”
“Yes, ma’am. Bye, Nana.”
“Good-bye, Steed.”
He hung up the phone, feeling better than he had this morning, but still at a loss as to how to deal with Darci. If you mind yourself you’ll get the girl, too. He couldn’t allow himself to think that far ahead. First, he had to find a way to get Darci to give him a minute of her time, when it was clear she had no use for anything he had to say. What he couldn’t do was give her false hope. Warwick’s death was a suicide, and promotion or not, he couldn’t pretend otherwise. Somehow or another, Darci would have to get that.
CHAPTER 7
Darci tried ignoring the hostile glare being shot her way from the glassy-eyed Eva, but after ten minutes of trying, she broke her idle conversation with the Warwicks and met the woman’s glare with a harsh stare-down of her own. “Is there a problem, Eva?” she asked.
Eva shrugged. “I’m just wondering why you’re here.” She crossed her legs and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. “Is that all right?”
“Darci’s here because it’s what Kenny wanted,” Mr. Clayton explained. “I have the papers in order, so we can begin.”
“Finally,” Eva grumbled.
After reading the document naming Darci executor, Mr. Clayton divulged Kenny’s bequest of his house to Darci, and his car, personal effects, plus $2.5 million dollars to his stunned parents.
“I know Kenny worked hard and invested, but where—where did he get so much money?” Suzette asked.
“The lotto,” Darci explained. “He won it five years ago, but thought it best to keep it hush-hush.”
“But he told you.”
“Yeah. He said he had to tell somebody.” Darci closed her hand over Suzette’s. “I hope you’re not upset.”
“I’m not upset about not knowing about the money. I’m upset because he’s not here. There’re things about my son I never knew about. Things I’ll never know.” Suzette’s voice wavered and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Never know,” she repeated as she raced out of the room.
“Go on without us,” Charles said as he went after his wife.
“There are a few more bequests to Sterling University, and some charities that…”
“Am I mentioned in the will?” Eva asked, cutting Mr. Clayton off and fidgeting nervously in the corner wing chair.
“Yes, you are, Eva,” he answered.
“Then get to it.”
“Very well. This section is a bit detailed and very involved. Kenny had very specific plans for you, Eva.”
A big smile brightened Eva’s face. Dollar signs danced in her glazed-over eyes. Darci felt sick to her stomach. Kenny was just buried yesterday and his sister, his only sibling, was practically chomping at the bit to get her hands on his money.
“What did he leave me?”
“Everything is detailed in this letter he left for Darci that he asked me to read aloud to you both,” Mr. Clayton explained, pulling a business envelope from the folder he held. “Your parents have already left the room, which is good, because Kenny didn’t want them here for this.”
Darci groaned softly. Why wouldn’t Kenny want his parents to hear the details of this letter? The more she wondered, the more uncomfortable she became. Whatever this was, she wasn’t going to like it.
“Well, it’s just us. Read the letter,” Eva urged, her smile widening and her foot tapping anxiously on the floor.
Mr. Clayton opened the letter and began. “If Mr. Clayton is reading this letter it means I’m dead, and that sucks. Nonetheless, with me gone, I still want to look out for my family…my sister. Darci, you are my dearest friend in the world, and besides myself, you are the most beautiful and together person I know. So, I want you—I need you to help my sister become the same way.”
“What does he mean ‘become the same way’?” Eva sniped. “What is this about? How much money did Kenny leave me, and what the hell does Darci Clarke have to do with it?”
“I’m getting to all of that right now,” Mr. Clayton answered. He continued reading. “Eva, you’re my big sister, and I love you, but I can’t let you destroy yourself. I’m gone now, but Darci is the one person I trust to see this through. I left Mom and Dad most of my estate, but what remains of my finances is yours. Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
Eva’s eyes bugged out. “Three quarters of a million dollars? When do I get it, huh? When do I get it?”
“There’s a condition.”
“A condition?” Eva’s fixed her gaze on Darci. “This is about her, isn’t it?”
Darci rolled her eyes. She definitely wouldn’t like this.
“Yes,” Mr. Clayton confirmed, “it is about Darci. Allow me to continue.”
“Then continue!” Eva snapped.
Mr. Clayton read on. “Eva, this money will be yours to do with as you please, after you fulfill one request. You are to check into Valley Creek Rehab and stay there until the staff deems you prepared to leave—for a time of up to six months. If you are released before the six months, you are to move into my house with Darci, where you will stay and be tested randomly for drugs for whatever time completes a year. One screw-up and you’re done. If you complete this year without drugs or drinking, you will receive the bequest. Otherwise, you get nothing. And if you think you can get the money from Mom and Dad, think again. The money I left for them is in a special account that Darci will have to approve before any withdrawals may be made. If they need to pay a bill, she will see that it gets paid. If they want it for a trip, she will arrange the travel and lodging. In other words, she will know how every dime of my money is being spent. If you get even one red cent before this year is over and you’ve successfully completed rehab, it will be the only cent you get. In other words, you will be cut off completely, and the money will be disbursed
as Darci sees fit.”
Eva’s pale face reddened to a vibrant beet red. “He can’t do that!” she railed.
“I’m afraid he can and has,” said Mr. Clayton. “If you want to get this money, you’ll have to follow his rules. There’s a bit more to the letter. ‘I imagine this makes you very angry, Eva, but I’m doing this for you because I love you. I love both of you. Darci, I know I’m asking an awful lot of you, but I need you to do this for me. It will mean you’ll have to stay in Sterling for a while, but you should be very comfortable in my house, which is now your house, and doing this would mean more to me than you’ll ever know. Thank you for being the best and hottest friend a guy could ever have. And, please, don’t be sad about my death. I may be gone, but at least I made a gorgeous corpse. All my love, Kenny.’” Mr. Clayton returned the letter to the envelope and handed it to Darci. “That’s all.”
“I’m supposed to check into rehab now? Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that. Kenneth did his best to keep your drug and alcohol addiction from your parents, but, lately, he’d noticed things were getting out of hand. With his upcoming trip to Rio, he wanted to make sure you’d be okay, in case the unthinkable happened during his jaunt. So, he added this letter to his will.”
Eva stood and pointed at Darci. “She’s supposed to see that I’m okay? This woman Kenny and my parents have always loved more than me? Forget it. I will not report to her!”
Fed up with Eva’s griping, Darci leapt from her chair and advanced to within inches of the irate woman. “You know what, Eva, I don’t care what you do! I’m here because it’s what Kenny wanted. I swear, you are a sad woman. Your brother is dead and still looking out for you, and all you care about is getting your hands on his money! You don’t have to like me, but you have to deal with me. If you want to walk away, feel free, but I won’t allow you to put Kenny’s money up your nose or down your throat. You know I can make it happen. And trust me, I will!”
Eva stepped around Darci and walked up to Mr. Clayton. “Kenny can’t do this. He can’t make me check into rehab. I don’t have a drug problem! He can’t keep this money from me.”
Darci threw up her hands in frustration and returned to her chair.
Not Quite Right (Indigo Love Spectrum) Page 6
