The Inheritance

by Jacqueline Seewald

  Copyright October 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, photographic including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher. No patent liability is assumed with respect to the use of the information contained herein. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-940758-52-3

  EPUB ISBN: 978-1-940758-52-7

  Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-940758-51-0

  Published by:

  Intrigue Publishing, LLC

  11505 Cherry Tree Crossing Rd. #148

  Cheltenham MD 20623-9998

  DEDICATION

  This novel is dedicated to my husband, Monte, who supports me in every possible way.

  Chapter One

  The letter looked ordinary enough at first. Jennifer Stoddard almost tossed it in the trash, thinking it was just another solicitation. But then she noticed that the return address was in Bloomingvale, her hometown. The sender was an attorney named James Donne. The name seemed somehow familiar.

  Jen opened the envelope, began reading, and sat down on the nearest chair. She was asked to contact the attorney as soon as possible in regard to her grandmother. Velma Pritchard, now deceased. Her grandmother, dead? It didn’t seem possible. The old woman had appeared so strong both in mind and body. Could it be true? Jen bit down on her lower lip, tasting her own blood.

  Her hand trembled as she pressed in the number of the attorney. An assistant answered and she explained the reason for the call.

  “Please hold,” the woman said.

  Jen waited, tapping her fingers, annoyed by the nondescript music piped through the telephone.

  “James Donne here. You are Jennifer Stoddard, Velma Pritchard’s granddaughter?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a pause at the other end. Jen felt as if she should fill it. “How long ago did my grandmother die?”

  “It’s been a month.”

  “That long ago? Why didn’t anyone contact me before this? I would have wanted to come for her funeral.”

  “I am sorry, Mrs. Stoddard.” The attorney registered what sounded like genuine regret. “We did try to phone and then write to you. No one seemed to have recent information.”

  Jennifer was filled with guilt and shame. “I haven’t been in contact with anyone from Bloomingvale recently,” she admitted.

  “That is unfortunate. We did finally get your information through your mother.”

  Was there any point in telling this stranger about her husband’s death a year ago? How much her life had changed since? But no, he would simply think she was trying to excuse her behavior—and wasn’t that really the case?

  “The reason I have been trying to contact you concerns the nature of your grandmother’s will. It seems you are her heir. You have been left her house and savings. It will be necessary for you to come to Bloomingvale to claim them.”

  That came as something of a shock. “What about my mother? Isn’t she the heir?”

  Again, a pause. “Mrs. Stoddard, your mother and grandmother were not on the best of terms, especially in recent years as you probably know. Mrs. Pritchard felt you were the appropriate recipient of her estate. When can you arrive in Bloomingvale?”

  When could she? There was Aaron to consider. “The school year ends in another week. I could come out to Bloomingvale shortly thereafter.”

  “Good. We’ll be expecting you.”

  Jen replaced the receiver on her telephone and stared at it. She shook her head, trying to lose the sense of strangeness. When the doorbell rang, she didn’t respond at once.

  “Jen, are you there?”

  She recognized her friend Maryann’s voice and breathed a sigh of relief. Talking to Maryann would help her focus her thoughts. Maryann Waller bounced into the small foyer of Jen’s apartment with her usual vibrant energy. Her golden hair shimmered.

  “Want to go to lunch? I have some extra time.”

  “Sure,” Jen said. “Sounds like a good idea. I have something to tell you.”

  Maryann raised one golden brow. “You always understate things. I get the feeling this is important.”

  “It could be. I guess you could say I got some surprising news.”

  It was June and a warm day in Manhattan but she grabbed a light jacket anyway. Many of the restaurants were overly air-conditioned and she chilled easily.

  The streets were crowded with people as usual. Taxi cabs and limos honked at each other. The world around them hustled and bustled along as Maryann questioned her.

  “So what happened? Someone call you with a good job offer?”

  “Not yet, but then I have been out of the work world for a long time. That doesn’t impress potential employers.”

  “Wish I could help you.”

  “You’re in marketing. I’m a bio-chemist. They’ve been cutting research money, not many new drugs coming down the pipeline, less funding for development, and that means fewer jobs in my area.”

  Maryann let out a deep sigh. “It’s true for all of pharma. A lot of the business is moving overseas.”

  “I may have to leave the city regardless,” Jen said. “The cost of living here is very high and private school for Aaron is eating up our savings.”

  Jen had lived and worked in New Jersey when she first met Bill. He’d been a senior executive considerably older than herself. When they married and he’d been promoted to a vice president position in Manhattan, they bought a co-op apartment on the fashionable East Side. Jen loved the city; the excitement never grew old. There were museums to visit and Broadway shows to see.

  When she became pregnant with Aaron, Bill was just as thrilled as she was. It seemed as if life could not get any better. Then two years ago, Bill was diagnosed with an inoperable brain cancer. Helplessly, she watched as her wonderful, intelligent husband lost his faculties. She prayed for a cure but none came. She lost ten pounds. Her clothes hung on her and she looked gaunt. After her husband died, Jen suffered from depression but realized she had to be strong for the sake of her son if not for herself.

  Jen and Maryann decided on a deli located close-by. Jen selected a turkey club and Maryann a corned beef sandwich.

  “That’s a surprise,” Jen said. “You usually have a salad for lunch.”

  “I feel like shaking things up a little today.”

  “That’s right. Be adventurous.” They shared a laugh.

  Maryann certainly didn’t have to worry about her figure. She could eat anything and not gain weight. She worked out almost every day at the gym in her apartment building. She was stylishly trim and always dressed in a trendy manner, usually the latest style. Maryann at twenty-seven was the epitome of a fashionable city woman. She could easily be confused for a model with her height of five feet eight inches and her striking good looks. Jen was of average height at five foot six inches. Although she happened to be just as slender as Maryann, she never thought much about being stylish. Once she’d stopped working, she felt more comfortable in casual clothing, most of the time wearing jeans and sneakers. She hadn’t worked since Aaron was born. Now that he was eight years old and she no longer had a husband, it seemed that she should be working again.

  “S
o tell me what’s going on,” Maryann said. She bit into her sandwich with zest.

  “It’s weird really,” Jen said with a shrug. She picked up her own sandwich, and then put it down again. “I don’t know if I ever mentioned my grandmother to you.”

  Maryann shook her head. “I don’t remember. Maybe.”

  “Well, she passed away.”

  Maryann’s great green eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m very sorry.”

  “So am I. Only found out about it today. Apparently, she died about a month ago.”

  Maryann put her own sandwich down. “And no one bothered to tell you?”

  “The lawyer said they had trouble locating me. I did sell the apartment after Bill died and rent the smaller place. My grandmother broke her hip around that time. She went into a nursing care facility and I guess we kind of lost track of each other. I don’t think either one of us really had it together.”

  “What about your mother or father? Didn’t they know where you were?” Maryann took a bite of the juicy sour pickle that accompanied her sandwich.

  “My parents divorced when I was seventeen and since then, I haven’t had much contact with either of them. They both remarried and moved away. I stayed with my grandparents for a while after I graduated high school and until I started college in the fall. My father left town with his girlfriend. I think my grandmother was very hurt by the divorce as well as the scandal.”

  Maryann’s eyes opened wide. “There was a scandal?”

  Jen gave an uncomfortable shrug. This wasn’t something she would normally discuss with other people, even a close friend like Maryann. “Well, let’s just say there was a lot of gossip. They always fought a lot. When the marriage broke up, my mother blamed my grandparents for encouraging her to marry Dad. There was a lot of bitterness on her part.”

  “It must have been hard on you,” Maryann said.

  “It was. I always blamed myself, thought they were fighting because of something I’d done or said wrong. I know now it was foolish, but that’s the way children think I guess. As an adult, I understand it wasn’t about me.” Actually, neither of her parents had ever cared much about her. When they divorced, neither one of them wanted custody of her. That was the real reason she ended up living with her grandparents the summer before college.

  She would have to return to Bloomingvale, back to where her life had begun, if for no other reason than to honor the memory of the two people who had given her their love. She regretted not seeing more of them in those later years. But then everyone made mistakes, didn’t they?

  Chapter Two

  Although she’d grown up in Bloomingvale, Jen felt like a stranger in a strange land. Many of the stores and shops appeared different. The people looked unfamiliar. She’d been raised in the heartland of America and was now back in her hometown after a good number of years. She wondered if anyone she’d known would remember her. Somehow she doubted it. She’d been quiet and shy as a child and spent most of her free time reading. Her teachers liked her much better than her peers.

  She sat in the attorney’s office waiting for Mr. Donne. Her appointment was set for ten a.m., but as usual she was early.

  “Mrs. Stoddard.” The legal assistant, Astra Meyers, according to the name plate on her desk, was staring at Jen.

  “Yes. Is Mr. Donne ready to see me?”

  The young woman smiled at her. “He is.” With an air of efficiency, she led Jen into the lawyer’s office.

  Jen observed that Mr. Donne moved slowly as if his joints were arthritic. However, he took her hand and offered a firm handshake. His gaze was sharp and alert. His head moved slightly to one side as he assessed her.

  “You look a lot like your grandmother,” he said. She sensed some approval.

  “Thank you.”

  He invited her to sit down on a comfortable armchair across from his desk. “It was necessary to request you come here because of the terms of your grandmother’s will.”

  “I’m not certain I understand,” Jen said.

  The gray-haired attorney sat down behind his desk, steepling his hands together. “Mrs. Pritchard specified you as her sole heir. However, there are certain terms.” He picked up some papers and handed them to her. “This is your copy of your grandmother’s will. You will see she wanted you to have both her house and her savings.”

  “Yes, Mr. Donne, you told me that when you phoned.” She waited as he cleared his throat.

  “I’m certain you are aware that at one time your grandfather was a fairly wealthy man. Your great grandfather was a mill owner, a large employer in the area. Their house was a mansion, a showplace. Your grandmother inherited quite a lot of money and she was good at conserving it. In fact, through sagacious investing, that money continued to grow.”

  “She was always generous with presents,” Jen said, remembering with a smile. “I don’t think she ever forgot any family member’s birthday or anniversary. And there were always holiday gifts as well. She was very thoughtful.”

  Mr. Donne gave a nod. “She was also a generous contributor to various charities.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “As I said, she wanted you to inherit her property. But there is one requirement, a stipulation. You will have to live in her house for two years or her estate will pass to charities of her choosing.”

  Jen stiffened in surprise. “My life is in New York now.”

  “That may well be. However, your grandmother was a strong-willed woman. I tried to discuss the matter with her, but she was adamant.”

  “I’ll have to think about this,” Jen said. Why had her grandmother had made such a demand?

  “You do that. You should know that your grandmother’s wealth is well over two million dollars, perhaps considerably more. That is not counting the house which in actuality is in very poor condition and requires considerable repairs. However, a separate account has been established to pay for repairs to the home.”

  Jen bit down on her lower lip, her mind working furiously. “My son finished his school term. He’s at sleep away camp for the next month. But after that, I suppose I could bring him out here.”

  “Perfect. That will give you time to start working on the house.”

  “Is it really in such bad shape?”

  The lawyer grimaced. “Probably worse. Your grandmother hadn’t lived in the house for well over a year. She was in a nursing home during that time. Her housekeeper had retired and your grandmother wouldn’t trust strangers to enter. I’m afraid she let the place run down even before she broke her hip.”

  “Thank you for your candor.” Jen had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Dealing with a decrepit old house was not something she looked forward to doing.

  “It’s best you understand what you’ll be faced with from the start. Do you think you’ll be accepting the terms of Mrs. Pritchard’s will?”

  Jen sat reflecting for a moment. Although she loved Manhattan, everything there reminded her of Bill. Rent for her small apartment would keep increasing as would Aaron’s private school costs.

  “Mr. Donne, I am going to take on the challenge and accept the terms of my grandmother’s will.”

  The attorney got to his feet and shook her slender hand with his bony one. “I predict you won’t be sorry.”

  Chapter Three

  When Grant Coleman saw the woman start to drive through the light as it turned red, he put on his flashing lights and siren. If she’d been a local, he might have cut her some slack. But he could see by the plates that she was driving a rental. As Chief of Police, it wouldn’t be right to allow some out of state driver to spit on the law. If nothing else, it set a bad example for the locals.

  She turned slightly and he could see the look of surprise on her face. Pretty lady, he thought. Attractive dark auburn hair, pert nose and full lips. Too bad he had to give her a ticket, especially a moving violation that carried points. But that was how it was. He shrugged.

  He indicated that she should
pull over. Then he got out of his own vehicle and approached hers. “Roll down your window please, Ma’am.” She did as he asked, frowning at him. “Please hand me your registration and driver’s license.”

  “Officer, the light wasn’t red when I started to go through.”

  “I was watching, Ma’am. It was changing before you started. You’re guilty of a moving violation.” He held out his hand.

  Reluctantly, she handed him her information.

  “Stay in the vehicle, Ma’am. Do not get out.”

  He went back to his cruiser and wrote out the ticket, thinking there was something familiar about the woman. When he handed the ticket to her, the woman’s cheeks were flushed. She took the paper from his hand in an angry gesture, practically ripping it from his hand. She irritated him with her attitude. But instead of commenting, he gave a curt nod and walked away. He’d learned self-restraint, self-discipline and self-control in the Marine Corps. It had carried over into his civilian life and his police work. He waited at the side of the road for the woman to drive off. Mighty attractive all right but full of uppity attitude.

  She was not a violent person by nature, but Jen would have liked to punch the officer in the nose. When he approached her car wearing those reflective aviator sunglasses, her heart had started to pound. The way he spoke made her feel like a criminal. He didn’t recognize her and that was just as well. She was angry with herself that he could still have the same effect on her she’d felt back in high school.

  As if getting a ticket wasn’t bad enough, she found a dead rat on the porch in front of the door leading into her grandmother’s house. Did the creature choose to take its last breath there or had some malevolent individual left the dead rat as a sign? She could think of better welcoming gifts. Either way, she saw it as a bad omen.

  The white paint on the outside of the house had faded to a dull gray and black paint peeled off the shutters. Mr. Donne hadn’t exaggerated the neglect of what had once been an elegant home. Her mood continued to deteriorate when she opened the door to her grandmother’s house with the key that Mr. Donne had provided. What she saw made her mouth drop. If she were a Hollywood director choosing a set location for a haunted house, this would be the perfect choice.