Wills & Trust (Legally in Love Collection Book 3)

by Jennifer Griffith

  Quirt stood stock still, his gaze fixed on the wall of the garage across the yard. He didn’t speak.

  “After the accident, Mom and Dad were gone. I missed them so desperately. Prayer helped, but I needed someone here. On earth. Aunt Ruth helped with all my hospital stuff, which was great, but I wanted you. You disappeared, Quirt. You left me.” Her voice caught, but she muscled down the emotion. “Dane showed up.”

  “Oh, and sweet-talked you, I’m sure. Like he does all the girls.”

  This was ridiculous, and her rage surged. “No. In fact, he didn’t talk at all.”

  “The mighty listener, I guess.” Quirt rolled his eyes. “Every woman’s dream.”

  “You’re a jerk.” She shouldn’t even elaborate. Quirt didn’t deserve it. But he was her brother, and Dane deserved to be exonerated— appreciated, too, for what he’d given her. “He didn’t talk. And I didn’t talk. He threw me a baseball, and I caught it, over and over. We just played catch.”

  “Catch.”

  “For two months. While I went through physical therapy. He was home between college and law school and came here every day, Quirt. To this back yard and to the beach. To help a broken, injured girl.” He’d healed her, she wanted to add, but Quirt wouldn’t want to hear that.

  He was quiet for a while, but after a bit, he turned to face her.

  “I was supposed to ride with you. The trip was for my awards ceremony.” Survivor’s guilt twisted his face. Brooke didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it before. Her nursing training should have made it plain as daylight to her.

  “It’s all right. Ultimately, we both got by. Mom and Dad are in a good place. I feel it.”

  “But you’re right. I didn’t help you. I went to my master’s program. I took too many credits. I ignored the world. I didn’t come up for air until after I’d been teaching for a couple of years and met Olivia. She was the first time I could breathe.”

  Olivia had been his healing. That all sounded true. And the harsh reality was Brooke hadn’t been there for Quirt, either. She took him by both shoulders and looked into his face. “You might not have been in the car with us, but the accident happened to you, too.”

  He grimaced for a split second. “Rock. He played catch with you?” When she nodded, he said, “And you’re living with him, but not in sin.”

  Her eyes instinctively rolled skyward. He did not deserve an explanation, if he was going to throw out allegations like that, allegations he knew were false.

  “You know I’m not that girl.” Her promise to her parents hadn’t dissolved just because she found Dane so irresistible— although he’d been the one to put the brakes on their kissing session in the car the other night. He’d sacrificed for her a thousand times over now. For her physical and spiritual and emotional safety. She had to do something for him. Repay him— adequately.

  “He’s putting everything on the line for me.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Skepticism still tinged the question, but Quirt seemed to be calming down.

  She gave Quirt a thumbnail description of Dane’s ethics troubles.

  “Really?” No scoffing, no accusations of he’s probably guilty, no harsh judgment. “He’s been helping you even though he’s supposed to steer clear of all high profile court cases— and all female clients.”

  Brooke felt laden down with the weight of what Dane was giving up for her. “I owe him. Frankly, we both do. You’re the one who insisted he come help me with this legal issue.”

  Quirt looked at the sky a minute. Then he looked back at Brooke. “There wasn’t anyone else.”

  “I know.” Boy, did she know. She’d tried. “If there were any other way, I wouldn’t be putting him in this situation.”

  “Couldn’t you find someone else? A different lawyer out of town?”

  She shook her head. “No. Too expensive, since my legal budget is zero dollars. And especially not this late.”

  Quirt stabbed the toe of his shoe in the dirt. “What with the startup costs for the museum, you’re right. We can’t afford to hire a different attorney, anyway.” He dug it around to make a little hole in the St. Augustine grass. “And besides, I don’t trust anyone else.”

  “I thought you didn’t trust Dane Rockwell.”

  “I don’t. I mean, I do— just not when you’re living with him.”

  Oh, fine. Since he couldn’t see sense, she’d have to come clean in explicit terms. Stupid brothers.

  “Geez, Quirt. Don’t you realize he wasn’t even there last night? He probably slept in his truck, or somewhere even less comfortable. Aunt Ruth shared the cabin with me on that boat. And besides, this isn’t some permanent situation.” Exasperation tinged her words. “Let’s say I did fall for Dane Rockwell. What would be the harm in that? He’s been part of our lives forever. Dad and Mom liked him.”

  “They loved him. Sometimes more than they loved me.”

  “Oh, come on.” Brooke knew Quirt wasn’t being serious.

  “Fine. They knew he was a good kid and worth yanking out of his family’s clutches.”

  “Exactly. Just repeat that to yourself. He’s a good kid. But fast forward it. Look at him today. He’s a good man who would do anything for you or for me or for Dad or even Grandpa. What do you say we give him the bare minimum— the benefit of the doubt.”

  “That’s not the same as your sister’s hand in marriage.”

  Marriage? Who said anything about marriage? Brooke’s throat closed and she had to force it back open for breath. “He’s not that into me.”

  “Then why’d he buy a ring at Appleton Jewelers last spring, the very afternoon he almost kissed you at First Pitch?”

  “He did not.” There was no way. She’d never seen any signs…oh. Except that passionate kiss in church the next day.

  “Did too. Old Appleton told me himself when I went in to get the ring for Olivia. Even said Dane bought it for ‘the Chadwick girl.’”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “Yuh-huh. Want me to prove it?” Quirt was punching something into his phone. A few seconds later he said, “Got it,” and then dialed a number before she could protest. “I’ll put it on speaker.” Staticky ringing crackled.

  “Hello. Appleton Jewelry,” came a voice through the phone.

  “Hi, Mr. Appleton? Glad I caught you. This is Quirt Chadwick.”

  “Quirt, my boy. How’s that girl of yours liking the F-2 brilliant cut with the sapphire baguettes you chose for her?”

  Wow. Appleton had an exceptional memory. He and Quirt shot the breeze for a minute before Quirt asked the salient question.

  “So, by chance do you recall a day last year when my friend Dane came in?” Quirt called him a friend. The thaw made one of those loud crack! sounds like warm water over ice in a glass.

  It was going to be okay.

  “Dane Rockwell? Sure. He bought the princess cut display diamond in the front window I’d had out there forever. Asked me to reset it for your sister, Brooke, he said. But from what I could tell, that didn’t play out as well as he’d hoped.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Appleton. You refreshed my memory.”

  “Bye, my friend. Come back and see me when you and your Olivia have an anniversary.”

  Appleton signed off.

  Brooke’s mind raced. “You never told me. That’s the kind of thing a brother tells a sister. Geez, Quirt. How could you— ?”

  “Well, he’s a darn sight better than that last idiot you fell for.”

  She’d fallen for Dane? Uh, probably so. “Ames Crosby, you mean.”

  “The doctor is in,” Quirt said in a highbrow British accent. “Until he’s not.”

  “He’s back, you know. Back in town.”

  “I’ll kill him.”

  “I think Dane called dibs.” The vitriol had been dripping off him at the coffee shop. “But don’t kill him just yet.” His evidence might have weight, which their case needed as counterbalance against the lies LaBarge was most likely cooking up about Brooke.

&n
bsp; Tuesday. Time churned ever closer to Tuesday, and she still didn’t have a character witness against LaBarge, at least not one willing to go on record.

  Tuesday held her greatest hope and her greatest dread. After Tuesday she could finally, finally tell— and show— Dane how she was feeling, how she’d been feeling for years. But also Tuesday the entire world might believe LaBarge’s slander against her, and Brooke’s whole family’s reputation might go flushing down the drain, along with all their hopes of opening Left Field.

  She had to somehow find someone willing to tell the court the truth about LaBarge.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tampering With the Witness

  “Go, Rockets!” Dane gave three loud claps as his team went up for their last outfield inning. “Keep them from scoring and you’ll hang in there.”

  The score was tied at zero. The Rockets didn’t have much speed, but at least neither did the Pelicans.

  Not that Dane was at the top of his game as a coach, either. Fifty things on his task list distracted him, and he barely noticed when the first Pelican up to bat hit a single after the Rockets shortstop let it through his legs.

  He checked his watch. It would take an hour to get to Chincoteague. Did he have time this afternoon? He had to. If Norvin North would agree to meet with him on a Saturday, there wasn’t much choice.

  With only three reputable handwriting experts anywhere nearby— North, a guy in D.C., and a guy in New York City— Dane’s pickings were slim. Especially on this short notice.

  “Sorry, coach,” the boys said when they came in after letting the Pelicans score three runs on them in the bottom of the ninth. “We should-a held them.”

  Dane gave some high fives. “Next time. Now, come on. Let’s give them a sendoff cheer before we go gorge ourselves on orange slices and Capri Sun drink boxes.”

  “They don’t come in boxes. They’re pouches,” a smart kid said as he put his mitt in the middle of the cheer circle. They shouted and threw their mitts in the air.

  Dane waved goodbye and tore out of Maddox. He booked it across the Chesapeake to Maryland on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. Above the water, the bridge was windy, and he hoped it wouldn’t shut down on his return trip; but fifteen dollars poorer and two hours later, Dane and his Dodge rolled across the Eastern Shore of Maryland and up onto Chincoteague Island— and possibly into career suicide. He couldn’t ask about Brooke’s case without actually presenting himself here as her lawyer.

  Risks and rewards. He’d weighed them both as he pulled up at North’s house and knocked on the door.

  “Thank you for meeting with me at short notice,” Dane said as he extended his hand to the short, balding man with the wire-rimmed glasses. He had to be eighty years old. More. “Do you get many requests now that you’ve retired from official service?”

  According to Vonda, North had spent his career between Richmond and Charlottesville. That meant he was a big-city guy, not a Maddox or Naughton entity, which meant he might not be corrupted by the touch of Faro LaBarge.

  LaBarge couldn’t have infected every person on the whole eastern seaboard, could he? He wasn’t exactly the plague. Close, but not quite.

  “Things have been pretty quiet until lately.” North invited him in and gave him a chair to sit in, as a huge dog came up and greeted Dane with slobbery enthusiasm. “Now this week, out of nowhere, I have the phone ringing off the hook.”

  No one had phones on hooks anymore. Maybe this guy was too old school for what Dane and Brooke would need for Tuesday.

  “Speaking of phones,” he said as he reached to pull out the photo he’d taken at the bowling alley, but then— something stopped him. Instead, he redirected. “Sudden burst of popularity, eh?”

  “Must be a lot of forgery going on in Virginia these days.”

  This stopped Dane cold, his instincts heightening. “You getting forgery accusations from across the Bay?” Dane petted the dog’s head, and it sank down, setting its heavy chest on Dane’s feet. “Virginia’s a hotbed of it, eh?” He didn’t know how much fishing for information he dared do.

  Turned out, the Norvin North pump didn’t need much priming.

  “Second one today.” He rubbed a shiny spot on the top of his balding pate. “I mean, I go completely cold for three months, nothing but me and my TV Guide, and then, boom— out of the blue, I get handed a check for ten thousand dollars to work as an expert witness on a short-notice court case for a baseball’s provenance. Now you show up, Mister, er, Mister….I don’t recall your name.”

  Seriously? LaBarge dug up the exact same handwriting expert to tap for help? Then a worse thought hit Dane. Had LaBarge reached out his slimy tentacles and tapped every handwriting expert on the eastern seaboard?

  “Sounds like you’re very busy,” Dane said, rising. “And like you already got yourself a nice payday for today.” He made his way toward the door. “I’ve got a late-notice project, too, so I’ll venture to guess you’re too busy.”

  Dane let himself out. Better to not leave his name. Loose lips and all.

  And with no handwriting expert, chances were Brooke’s ship was taking on water even faster than before.

  __________

  Brooke almost didn’t know how to coach baseball with only herself as leader of the Batmen, she was so used to having a second voice calling out drills to them. But in their first game of the season, the kids faced the Gargantuas. Dane’s team had played earlier and wasn’t even scheduled for this complex of four baseball diamonds.

  She was alone.

  Then again, at least she didn’t have Quirt telling her how to coach, either, so there was an upside.

  “Come on, Batmen!” She clapped and readjusted her coach’s cap over her ponytail as the wind whipped eddies of dust across the field.

  Bottom of the seventh, they finally scored a run, and now it was top of the ninth.

  “Okay, guys. If we can keep the Gargantuas from getting any runs, we win.”

  “Why?” a kid asked. “There’s still one more at-bat.”

  “But if we’re ahead, they just declare us the winner.”

  “But I still want to be up one more time.”

  Brooke sighed inwardly. They’d go over the rules again later. Meanwhile, she needed to keep them focused on their fielding, so she gave them a couple of strategies to work on, and then sent them out to field.

  “Play your best!” she said.

  A man stepped up beside her. “They can’t stop staring at you. You’ve got every boy on the team under your spell.”

  Brooke looked up and saw Ames, his hand shading his eyes. “What are you doing here? No non-coaches in the dugout.”

  “I don’t think you’ll report me.”

  She might. What was he doing here? She needed to concentrate.

  “Hey. Glad I found you out here.”

  How had he found her, anyway?

  Ames looked out toward a stand of trees in right field, not making eye contact with her. He fidgeted. “I really need to talk to you.”

  “We’re talking about your needs, huh? Let’s get something straight. You married Charli LaBarge.”

  “I did, but it’s over.”

  Whatever. Cheaters always said that. “Let me guess. She doesn’t understand you. She doesn’t respond to your needs. You know that now. You’re a changed man.”

  “No, really, it’s like I told you the other day— the divorce is final. I filed a year to the day.” Ames reached for her, but she stepped out of his grasp. “Brooke,” he said. “Babe. It was always you.”

  Sure it was.

  The second batter from the Gargantuas came up to bat. They already had a kid on second. How had she missed a second-base hit by the other team? She needed to concentrate. She was on the job, here.

  “Look, Ames. I have a lot going on right now, not the least of my concerns rooted in being outright persecuted by your father-in-law. I don’t have time for you, for this.” She waved her hand back and forth between the t
wo of them.

  “Twenty minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

  The batter swung and missed. Two strikes.

  “Way to go, pitcher!” she yelled, and then turned back to Ames, wishing he would just leave.

  “I know you don’t want to listen now,” Ames said. “You’re coaching. But after the game, I promise I can explain—”

  Sure, he could. “Stop. Stop yourself right there.” She held up a hand and Ames shushed. “First off, you can finish telling me about LaBarge. You mentioned some obsession.”

  Ames stood straighter. “I’ll tell you about that after you hear me out.”

  Right, after he gave her an excuse as to why he jilted and then left her to be ridiculed by everyone in this whole dang town. No, thank you.

  “How about this?” she said, as a better idea hit her. Dane couldn’t fault her for this one. Okay, maybe he could; but her gut told her to do it, even if it was dangerous. Dane’s feelings mattered to her deeply— as did everything she and Aunt Ruth had worked for. Winning the case mattered to him, too. He loved Aunt Ruth and didn’t want her dream to fail.

  “More than anything you want me to listen to your side of what happened between us, right?” she said. “I tell you what. I’ll listen to you— but after the hearing. After you testify about whatever it is you know about Sarge LaBarge and his so-called obsession.” After he proved he wasn’t a spy for LaBarge.

  Ames hesitated. “Testify. In court.”

  “On the stand. About your father-in-law.” She was testing him, she knew. He, of all people, likely had an inkling of how slimy and lethal LaBarge could be. But Ames Crosby owed her. Big time. “On the record.”

  “You don’t understand, Brooke.”

  “I sure don’t.” She glanced up as the second batter struck out. Two outs, one on second, a heavy hitter sidling up to home plate, the Batmen’s pitcher looking scared. “But I will give you a chance to explain at least some of what you have to say. After court.”

  Without a character witness against LaBarge, they had nothing to counterbalance all the lies he was allegedly concocting against Brooke. They needed to be prepared for that. She’d seen the venom in those bulging eyes the other day, when they threatened to prove she’d not only forged the will but had also conned Harvey Jarman, the sweet man she’d seen in the bowling pictures.