The Demise

by Diane Moody

  I direct the disposition of my assets as follows:

  First, to my wife Patricia Keary Lanham, I bequeath our home in Vail, Colorado, and all its contents; one automobile of your choosing from our five vehicles; all your jewels, personal possessions (clothing, books, artwork, etc.), and the engraved silver tea set you gave me for our twenty-fifth anniversary.

  Hank paused, looking over his glasses at Patricia. After an awkward moment, she snapped, “Well, go on.”

  “I’m afraid that’s all that pertains directly to you, Mrs. Lanham.”

  She glared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

  Hank looked back at the document in his hands. “I’m afraid I am. Now, to continue—”

  “I will not stand for this!” Patricia slammed her palms on the table and bolted out of her seat. “This is obviously some kind of joke! Surely you don’t believe this is a legitimate will? I have copies of Peter’s real will, and in it I am to receive—”

  “Patricia, I advise you to take a deep breath and sit back down—”

  “Don’t you take that tone with me, Hank. I don’t know who’s behind this, but that is not Peter’s will, and I will not walk away from here with only the clothes on my back and that stupid shack in Vail!”

  Julie leaned over to whisper in Matt’s ear. “That ‘stupid shack’ is worth over two million dollars. Think ultimate luxury chalet featured in Architectural Digest.”

  “That’s some shack,” he whispered.

  “Patricia, you’re welcome to stay or you may leave, if you’d rather not hear the rest of the will.”

  “You better believe I’ll leave, and when I do, I’ll be hiring my own attorney; someone who isn’t out to cheat me out of all that’s mine.”

  She gathered her things, grumbling under her breath, and started to leave, then stopped. She stood there looking at Donella, her eyes narrowing. Her gaze shifted to Underwood, then a moment later to Donovan Street. Matt could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind.

  “On second thought, I’ll stay.” She sat back down and leaned back in her chair. “I need to see who I’m up against. Or should I say, I need to find out who’s trying to steal what’s rightfully mine.”

  Hank stared over his glasses at her, then returned his attention to the will.

  “Yes, well. Let’s see. Where was I? Oh, yes. I continue:

  Second, to my long-suffering and faithful executive assistant, Donella Willet, I leave you a thousand apologies for reasons you know all too well. You have been so faithful and loyal to me through all these years, and I have only the highest regard for you as a professional, but even more so, as a friend. For these reasons, I bequeath to you a sum in the amount of ten million dollars—”

  A collective gasp filled the room, as heads turned this way then that. Donella’s face crimsoned as she covered her mouth with a trembling hand. She looked briefly at Underwood then back to Ormsby before dropping her face in her hands.

  “Surely NOW you know it’s bogus!” Patricia barked a laugh, drumming her fingers on the table. “I mean, really? Like Peter would give a secretary ten million? That’s absurd. It’s preposterous!”

  Her laughter didn’t fool Matt or anyone else. Donella’s face was still buried in her hands when Underwood pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gave it to her, along with a gentle pat on her shoulder. Matt found it touching that the chauffeur was a bit teary-eyed himself.

  When the chatter died down, Hank continued.

  —a sum in the amount of ten million dollars, along with my best wishes for you to live a long and fulfilled life as you retire early. It’s been an honor to work with you and a privilege to know you.

  Third, to Jim Underwood, the man who has served our family for so many decades now, always at the ready and always dependable, I give you my deepest thanks. I watched your impeccable service to my parents, then experienced firsthand your many admirable qualities, not the least of which includes your confidentiality. For this and so much more, I bequeath you the Lanham Estate and all its amenities.

  Another round of gasps and murmurs rippled through the room like a ten-foot Hawaiian wave. Underwood sat still, his face frozen in disbelief, even when Donella reached over and patted his hand. Matt couldn’t help the smile on his own face, enjoying the chauffeur’s shock. I may never have met Peter Lanham, but I have to admit I like the way the CEO showed his appreciation.

  Patricia said nothing this time, straightening her spine and locking her arms across her chest.

  Fourth, to Su-Jin Kym, my beloved nanny who raised Shannon and me, I leave a lifetime of gratitude for believing in me, caring for me, and loving me in a way my parents never did. If there was ever anything good in me, it came from you. No amount of money would ever come close to repaying you for all you mean to me, but please accept my gift of three million dollars. You’ve always wanted to go home; maybe now you can. Saranghae, Nanny Su.

  Fifth, to the best friend I’ve ever had, Donovan Street. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and done a lot of things I’m not proud of, but your friendship has been an anchor to me when I needed it most. And as such, I am bequeathing to you my yacht along with two million dollars so you can take that trip around the continent we always talked about. Promise to think of me as you sail away, buddy.

  Of course, there’s the matter of Lanham’s, and I can’t imagine anyone else at the helm but you. Therefore, I bequeath to you outright ownership of the entire Lanham’s Fine Foods Corporation and all its assets. My shares of Lanham’s stock will be addressed in the following section. You may keep the board members if you like, or throw them all out and start over. That’s up to you. My one and only caveat is that you fire Christopher Smithe immediately.

  A loud coughing fit drew their attention to the soon-to-be terminated VP sitting by the door. Once Smithe recovered, he stood up and started to say something. But nothing came from his mouth, only a parting scoff as he shoved open the door and left the room. And with his departure, those left behind shared a quiet chuckle that quickly grew into a round of applause.

  Hank failed at his attempt to hide a smile. “Settle down, folks. Settle down.” Then a moment later, he added, “If you’ll let me continue, there’s one more individual listed by Peter in his will. Here’s what he wrote:

  Finally, it is my desire to come clean on all accounts before I die, and that includes a personal negligence on my part in regard to my son.

  Patricia gasped in surprise, her eyes riveted on Ormsby. “Don’t—do not read another word, Hank. I will not sit here and be—”

  “Mrs. Lanham, with all due respect, I represent Peter and as such, it is my responsibility to—”

  “STOP! I don’t want to hear another word of your self-righteous legalese! This is MY life you’re ruining by sitting there spreading Peter’s dirty laundry for all the world to see. No one here needs to hear another word, do you hear me? Not one more word!”

  Hank took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Patricia, what I’m trying to tell you is that you have no say in the matter at this point. This is Peter’s will, and I am required by law to—”

  “Fine. By all means—go ahead!” Patricia grabbed her purse and stood, shoving her chair behind her. As she made her way to the door, she added, “You go right ahead and carry on with your stupid drivel. I don’t care. I DON’T CARE.” She yanked open the door then turned around one last time. “But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot!”

  Pictures on the wall shook as she slammed the door. And once again, a strange uneasiness hovered over the room.

  Julie squeezed Matt’s hand and shot him a look. Do you BELIEVE this?!

  He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “We’ll hope that’s the last of the drama, won’t we?” Hank looked around. “All right, let’s finish the reading of the will so we can all be on our way.

  I’ve only known about Pierre for a couple of months. It’s irrelevant at this point to explain how I found
out about him; suffice it to say I discovered my wife had a few secrets of her own, including a hidden bank account. Jenny Gresham, Pierre’s mother, is a good and kind person, and I have no doubt she’s a far better parent than I could ever be. Regardless what others may think of me, I chose not to step into my son’s life at this late point in time out of consideration for his well-being. In other words, I didn’t want to screw up his life the way I screwed up mine. While I may be adept at running a large corporation, I leave much to be desired when it comes to personal relationships and the commitment they require. With the possibility of my death nearing closer every day, I chose to spare him from knowing a father so unfit and unworthy of his love.

  Ironically, by doing so, I believe I may have accomplished the most gallant thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.

  The least I can do is provide the resources for him to live comfortably and get a good education. As such, I leave all my shares of Lanham’s stock to Pierre Gresham, to be kept in a trust fund until such time as his mother deems appropriate. Until then, I bequeath an amount of ten million dollars to Jenny Gresham along with my deepest apologies for the many hardships she has no doubt encountered since the day she met me. I can die in peace knowing he will be a far better man than I ever dreamed of being.

  Hank Ormsby remains the executor of my will. All other matters not covered in this document shall be implemented as originally outlined in my previous will at the discretion of Mr. Ormsby.

  Therefore, I, Peter Gregory Lanham, sign my name to this document and declare it to be my last will; that I sign and execute it as my free and voluntary act; that I am under no constraint or undue influence as I resolve these matters.

  “His signature follows, which has been verified, as I explained earlier.” Hank placed the document back in a file folder, then folded his hands. “In case you’re wondering why Miss Gresham is not here, she chose not to come because she believed her presence would create a volatile situation. It appears her decision was a wise one. I will be in touch with her as soon as we finish here, at which time I will read the new will to her. Now, I will be happy to speak to each of you individually if you have questions. Just stop by the reception desk and set up an appointment with my assistant. Thank you for your time today. The meeting is adjourned.”

  Chapter 34

  One week later

  Denton’s Café was open later than usual, its tables and booths still overflowing since the day Peter Lanham’s will was read and publicized. To strangers, the lively conversations buzzing from table to table might seem like nothing more than small-town gossip. But to those who’d followed Braxton’s recent drama as it unfolded over the past few weeks, the excited chatter provided background music, not unlike a soundtrack composition by the likes of James Horner or Thomas Newman.

  Julie and Matt squeezed into the last available booth, joined a moment later by Gevin. Sarah Denton shooed away the cluster of folks crowded around their booth to deliver glasses of iced water and take their order. She wiped her forehead with the hem of her apron.

  “Been like this all week. We haven’t been this busy since the day Mr. Lanham died. You’d think no one in this town had anything better to do than sit around and jabber about what Mr. Lanham was or wasn’t. It’s about to get the best of me.”

  “Not too bad for business, though,” Gevin teased. “I hear you sold out of desserts a couple of hours ago.”

  “Well, there you go. Now what can I get for you?”

  They placed their orders then sat back to relax.

  “Be honest, Matt,” Gevin began. “Now that you’ve had time to step back from all of it, are you satisfied with the way things turned out?”

  Matt released out a weary breath. “I guess. Hardly feels like a slam dunk, but short of interrogating Peter Lanham himself, I suppose we did the best we could.”

  “Are you saying you don’t think Brad was responsible for Peter’s suicide?” Gevin asked.

  “No, it isn’t that. I certainly think he’s got some emotional and mental problems and capable of driving someone to desperation. I guess I’m still second-guessing everything. Nothing new. I think it’s just the way I’m wired.”

  Julie smiled and reached for his hand. “Well, I for one rather like the way you’re wired, Special Agent Bryson.”

  “Is that so, Miss Parker? Even when I lose my patience with a certain aspiring actress?”

  Her ringing cell phone interrupted them. “Uh oh.” Her stomach knotted at the sight of the familiar name on caller ID.

  “What’s wrong?” Matt asked.

  “It’s Marty, my acting coach.”

  “And . . . ?”

  “He posted the cast for Romeo and Juliet today. With everything else going on, I completely forgot about it. Which doesn’t speak very highly for my mindset of late.”

  Gevin motioned toward the cell in her hand. “Answer it, silly.”

  She pursed her lips as she pressed the phone to her ear. “Hey, Marty.”

  “Hi, Julie. Got a minute?”

  “Sure, but I already know what you’re going to say. Still, I love that you called to make sure I heard it from you first.”

  “Really? How did—”

  “We both know it was my worst audition ever. I should have apologized sooner, but it’s been a really rough week and—”

  “Julie, stop! You got the part!”

  “What? No! That’s impossible. I was horrible that day.”

  “You were incredible that day. I’ve never seen so much raw emotion in an audition before. If you can bring even a trace of that to the stage, I’ll be the happiest director on the planet.”

  “But—”

  “I always knew you were made for this part, Juliet.”

  “But—”

  “No buts! Rehearsals start Thursday night at 6:30 sharp. Don’t be late.”

  She stared at the call ended note on her screen then slowly set it back on the table.

  “What was that all about?” Gevin took a sip of water.

  Julie blinked at him, wondering if she’d lapsed into some oddly-timed strange dream. “He said . . . Marty said I got the part.”

  “You got the part?” Matt asked. “You’re going to play Juliet?”

  She finally took a breath and slowly nodded. “I’m going to play Juliet.” The message shot through the fog of her brain, and she sat up. “I’m going to play Juliet! Oh my gosh—I got the part! I got it!”

  Matt hugged her to his side. “Congratulations!”

  “Way to go, Jules!” Gev jumped up. “Of course, I always knew my extremely talented and beautiful sister would get the part. Never doubted it for a minute. Stand up and give me a hug.”

  Matt stood to let her out of the booth. As she stepped into her brother’s outstretched arms, someone asked what was going on.

  “I’ll have you know that Braxton’s own Julie Parker will soon be playing the part of Juliet in the most famous of all love stories, Romeo and Juliet. Let’s hear it for the hometown girl!”

  As the other patrons clapped and cheered, Julie laughed her way through an exaggerated theater bow, thanking them all.

  “I thought the next play was going to be Little Women,” Lillian Gowden said from the next booth.

  Julie patted her arm. “It is, Lillian. Braxton’s Community Theater is doing Little Women. I’ll be performing in Romeo and Juliet with the Nashville Theater Company.”

  Lillian’s husband Frank scratched his bearded neck. “Why’d ya wanna drive all the way into Nashville when we’ve got our very own the-ater here in Braxton?”

  Julie chuckled. “Just branching out a little, Mr. Gowden. That’s all.”

  “Julie, we’re so proud of you!” Georgia squealed, suddenly appearing from the crowd. She gathered Julie in her arms like a mother hen. “Someday you’ll be on Broadway, and we’ll all fly to New York to see you!”

  “Not me,” Frank growled. “I ain’t flyin’ to that gosh-awful city.”

  Georgia swa
tted at the old curmudgeon. “Oh Frank, stop being such a party pooper. Julie, don’t you pay any attention to him. We’re all so happy for you, we could just pop!”

  “Julie, let us know when we can buy tickets, all right? I’ll round up my book club ladies, and we’ll make a night of it.”

  “Sure thing, Lillian.”

  “Make way, make way.” Sarah elbowed her way to their table. “Hot food coming through.”

  Moments later the guys settled in to enjoy fried chicken, mashed potatoes, fried okra and homemade biscuits while Julie ate her chef salad.

  “Agent Bryson, I was hoping to find you here.”

  All three looked up as Jeff Carter emerged from the throng of patrons.

  “Nice to see you, Chief.” Matt started to get up.

  He placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “No, keep your seat. I just wanted to stop by and commend you for your work on the Lanham case. Well done.”

  “I appreciate that, Chief, but I’m not sure how much I helped.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “In the end, the story seemed to play itself out. If Mr. Lanham’s letter and second will had surfaced right after he jumped off that water tower, sure seems like all the pieces of the puzzle would have fallen into place. With or without my help.”

  Julie hooked her arm around his elbow. “Stop being so humble. You worked hard on this case. You did a great job. The reading of Peter’s letter and second will just confirmed what we’d—what you’d—suspected.”

  “She’s right,” Jeff added. “And in the end, Peter had the last word. Brad is behind bars awaiting trial, and Lanham’s Corporation is in the able hands of Donovan Street.”

  Gevin buttered his biscuit. “Take it from me, Matt. Jeff doesn’t hand out compliments that often, so grab it while you can.”

  “I’ll let you all get back to your dinner. But if you ever decide to leave the TBI, I’d be proud to have you on my staff here in Braxton.”