The Bequest

by Nancy Boyarsky

  She told Albee that Josh had picked her up at the truck stop and that she’d been staying with him ever since, avoiding going out in public.

  “Do you mind if we take your picture?” Albee asked her.

  “No, not at all,” she said.

  The photographer then swung into action, taking a couple dozen shots of Nicole from various angles. Then Albee said, “It would really add to the story if I could get a photo of the two of you together.”

  “Fine with me,” Josh said.

  “I don’t know, Josh,” Nicole said. Even if it annoyed him, she felt obliged to point out the downside of having his photo in the newspaper, especially with her. “What about your parents? How are they going to feel when they see you in the paper? And your clients? What will they think?

  “They’ll be fine about it,” he said. “I haven’t done anything wrong, and neither have you.”

  “What is it you do for a living, Josh?” Albee said.

  “I’m an architect,” Josh said. “I mostly design family homes.”

  “Listen buddy,” Albee said. “This will be the making of you. When those ladies see the photo of a good looking guy like you, and read how you rescued a damsel in distress, they’ll beat a path to your door.”

  Josh and Nicole laughed, and the photographer quickly snapped some shots.

  “Just one more thing,” Nicole said. She checked her watch. It was 12:00 a.m. They’d been at it for two hours. “What time is this story going to run?”

  Albee paused for a moment to do some calculations in his head. “I just have to get back to the office and write up this interview. I’d say it will be up on the website at 3:00 or 3:30 a.m., at the latest.”

  They said goodbye to Albee and his crew. After he was gone, Carlos continued to monitor the windows, pacing around the house. His watchfulness—not to mention his size—made Nicole feel they were in safe hands.

  Then she remembered Josh’s family. “You’d better call your parents and tell them about all this,” she said.

  “They’ll be asleep,” Josh said.

  “I know,” she said. “But think how they’ll feel when they read about you in the morning paper.”

  He looked at her a moment, then nodded and picked up the phone.

  While he was doing that, she went on his computer, looked up the top ten tabloid websites and the phone numbers for their “tip lines.” She also found numbers for the TV channels who’d sent crews out to cover her earlier. She noted the information on two sheets, eight on each list.

  When Josh hung up, he looked less than happy.

  “How’d they take it?” she said.

  “It was a bit of a—uh—surprise,” he said. “But they’ll be fine. They just have to meet you. That’s all.”

  Nicole wondered if that was true. But there wasn’t time to worry about it now. She asked Josh for his cell phone, then quickly downloaded an app that could make his calls appear to be coming from somewhere else. She selected Bishop, California, in the Owens Valley. She’d already done the same to her phone.

  She told him what she had in mind. “We’re going to call tabloids and TV stations, say we live in the Owens Valley, and that the LAPD has been up there digging near Robert’s cabin. We’ll tell them there are a bunch of vehicles, including two coroner’s wagons. And that people are saying they’ve located two bodies, including mine. The TV and tabloids will send their people up there, and the paparazzi will follow. They’ll be two or three hours out of town before Albee’s story appears.”

  “You want to send them on a wild goose chase,” Josh said.

  “Right,” she said. “Payback. They made my life a living hell after Robert died and left me his money. This will make sure most of the paparazzi are several hours away when Albee’s story hits.” She looked at him. “Are you up for it? They’ll still be able to make a huge deal out of this story. We’ll just slow them down—and stress them out a little.”

  “Perfect,” Josh said.

  Twenty One

  After their calls were made, the paparazzi alerted and on their way to the Owens Valley, Nicole, Josh, and Carlos waited for the story to actually appear. It popped up on the Times website at 3:17 a.m. The three of them gathered in front of Josh’s computer so they could all read it at the same time. When they were done, they laughed and cheered.

  Only then—at 3:40—was it time for bed. Josh gave Carlos a pillow and blankets so he could sleep on the living room couch. Josh and Nicole headed upstairs.

  They were awakened by a commotion on the street in front of the house. Nicole looked at the bedside clock. It was 8:00 a.m. Josh got up and peered out the window. “Holy shit!” he said. “There’s a crowd of photographers in front and TV trucks are parked all down the block.”

  Nicole groaned. She hadn’t thought of this. Josh had been identified in the story as an architect who lived in Studio City. Of course the paparazzi would figure out where he lived and track them down.

  “Your neighbors are going to hate this,” she said. “I’ll tell the reporters that I’ll answer their questions and pose for pictures if they promise to leave when we’re done.”

  “Do you really think they’ll go?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But now that the chief is on his way out, we can call the police. These people are disturbing the peace in a residential neighborhood. I don’t think they get to do that.”

  She got up and put on her robe. Opening the bedroom window, she called her offer down to them.

  There were shouts of agreement. “Give me fifteen minutes,” she shouted. “And could you please keep down the noise? You’re disturbing the neighbors.”

  The clamor outside continued while she got ready. Meanwhile, Josh pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. “I think I’ll let you handle this one,” he said. “I’ll go down and make coffee.” Nicole wondered if his last conversation with his parents had anything to do with his decision to avoid the paparazzi. She suspected it had. With the cameras waiting, she took some time with her hair and makeup. This was her big appearance, and she wanted to look her best.

  When she was ready, she went downstairs. Josh was starting to put together breakfast. He greeted her with a kiss and handed her a cup of coffee. She took a couple of gulps and gave the cup back to him. Carlos, who’d been drinking coffee in the kitchen, put down his cup and followed her.

  When they were out on the porch, Carlos took a position four or five feet away from her and started scanning the crowd. “OK. Here I am,” Nicole said to the gathered reporters and photographers. There were perhaps fifty of them. They started shouting questions, and she said, “Raise your hands. I’ll call on you one at a time. I promise I’ll get to everyone.”

  So, one-by-one, they asked their questions. The first was, “Who’s the big guy standing next to you?”

  Nicole introduced Carlos and said that he was her bodyguard. Predictably, the next question was why she thought she needed one. She explained that a man had made several attempts on her life, and that was why she’d been in hiding. Now, with the story made public, the people who’d been exposed would have to pray that nothing happened to her. But she wasn’t entirely convinced she was out of danger, so she’d enlisted Carlos’ help.

  For the most part, the reporters and paparazzi asked for information that had already appeared on the Times’ website and, presumably, in the morning edition of the paper. They wanted her to retell it in her own words on video. As she understood it, some of this was being broadcast live on a couple of the TV channels, maybe even on tabloid websites. It was a good hour and a half before Nicole had answered every question. Then another hand went up. She gave the man a nod, and he said, “Can you ask your boyfriend to come out, so we can get shots of the two of you together?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but he’s not making an appearance today.”

  “Why not?” someone else shouted. “He let the Times run his picture.”

  “And that was quite enough,” she said. “
Thank you for your time this morning.” She turned and headed back into the house, dismissing them.

  True to their word, the reporters, paparazzi, and TV crews immediately packed up and got into their vehicles. In fact, they cleared out in such a hurry that she figured they must have a tip on a hotter story.

  Josh had cooked them a huge breakfast. Waffles, eggs, and sausages were in the oven keeping warm. On the table, he’d placed a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice and a bowl of mixed berries.

  The three of them had just sat down when the doorbell rang. Carlos went to get it. He was back almost at once.

  “Who was it?” Nicole said.

  “Paparazzi,” he said. “Three of them. They told me to smile for the cameras, so I did.” They all laughed. “Looks like everybody else is gone,” he added.

  “Thank god!” Nicole exclaimed. She’d just begun to serve herself breakfast when her phone rang. She’d turned it back on, and it was in its charger on the kitchen counter. She picked it up. Detective Miller was on the line. “I called to both thank you and apologize,” he said. “So don’t tell me to call your lawyer. Just listen, okay?”

  “Go ahead,” Nicole said.

  “First of all, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you first told me you weren’t involved with Blair. But more importantly, I want to thank you for exposing the chief. A lot of us on the force knew about him, but nobody was willing to step forward. There’s a code of silence—I’m sure you’ve heard of it—but the truth of the matter is that no one had the balls to take on the chief.”

  Detective Miller paused then continued, “I also want you to know that our squad arrested him and his inner circle at their homes early this morning. They’re being charged with murder and conspiracy in the case of Robert Blair. They’re also facing a number of other charges, including accepting bribes. We met with the D.A. as soon as the Times story appeared, and he was completely onboard. At this very moment, our men are bringing them into police headquarters. So you don’t have to worry about your safety anymore.”

  “That sounds great,” Nicole said, “but how can I be sure you got the man who was trying to kill me?”

  “Turn on Channel Nine right now,” he said. “You’ll see the men being brought in. Hurry or you’ll miss them.”

  She went into the living room, followed by Josh and Carlos, and turned on the TV, switching to Channel Nine. Sure enough, a “breaking news” sign appeared on the screen, and a perp walk was taking place as men were marched into police headquarters. She didn’t see the man who’d been following her. But photos of the arrested men and their names were running along the bottom of the screen. There were nine of them, including the police chief. The man who’d been after her was third from the left. He was shown in his police uniform, which made him look even more menacing. “That’s him!” she told Miller. “The guy in the third photo.”

  “Hank Kozlowski. We’ll need you to come in and identify him,” Miller said. “Then we can add the charge of attempted murder.”

  “Can we give it a couple of days?” she said. “I have a lot to catch up with.”

  “Call me tomorrow, and we’ll make an appointment,” he said. “By the way, if you happen to stop by your old law firm at 3:00 p.m. today, you might run into something of interest. Please keep this to yourself. And, again, thanks. A lot of the guys down here are really grateful to you. I mean it.”

  Back in the kitchen, Josh was reheating the food in the microwave. By now every phone in the house was ringing—all of their cell phones, as well as Josh’s home phone.

  They tried to ignore the ringing, but it was too insistent, stopping only to start up again a few seconds later. They got up and turned off the phones, and Josh disconnected the jack of his home phone. Then they sat down at the table and started to eat, happy to have the story out and Nicole’s safety assured. For the first time since she’d found Robert’s body, she felt safe. She pretty much cleaned her plate. Carlos couldn’t get over Josh’s cooking, and he went back for a heaping plate of seconds.

  After they were done, Carlos said, “Looks like you guys don’t need a bodyguard anymore.”

  Josh and Nicole walked him to the door. “Thanks for being here for us Carlos,” Josh said. “Send me a bill and I’ll settle up.”

  “No way,” said Carlos. “This one’s on me. You guys did a huge public service. I’m not going to charge you for it.”

  As Carlos left, Nicole found herself thinking, Now what? What was she going to do about a job? What was she going to do about her inheritance? And, even more pressing, what about Josh? She could move back to her own place now. She’d been waiting for this day, but now she had mixed feelings about it. This time with Josh had been lovely.

  “Listen,” Josh said. “We need to talk.”

  She followed him into the living room where they both settled on the couch. Nicole was quiet.

  “First, you have to make peace with this inheritance you keep saying you don’t want,” Josh said. “I really do think you should accept it, Nicole. Blair’s behavior—stalking you and then leaving his money to you, which made you a suspect—his whole obsession with you blew your life apart. You’ve said you’re not going back to the law firm, so you’re also out of a job. You’ve gone through all kinds of traumatic experiences because of Blair. You’ve earned this money.”

  When Nicole was still silent, Josh continued, “As for that diamond ring you showed me, I’ll bet Tiffany’s will take it back. If not, you can donate it to a charity. They can raffle it off or use it in a silent auction. And think what you can do with Blair’s money. You tell me your sister is living in a rundown apartment, driving a beat-up, old car. Once you sell Robert’s house, you can buy sis a house or a condo and a new car. It will change her life. And this money will buy you time to figure out what you want to do next. You can give some of it away to causes you care about. You can even put some away for our kids’ college funds. What do you think the government would do with it if you refuse to take it? They’ll use it to build a couple of inches of a new freeway on-ramp or half a prison cell.”

  Nicole’s mind was still stuck on the college funds. “Our kids?” she laughed. “Surely you’re not proposing to me! We’ve only known each other a few weeks.”

  “Oh, I am going to marry you,” Josh was saying. “But that conversation’s for another time. Here’s what’s going to happen: You’re going to your place today to pack up some of your things and start the process of moving in with me.”

  “That’s completely crazy,” she said. “What person in her right mind would give up Westwood for Studio City?” She looked into his eyes for a long moment and grew more serious. “I think we may have a future together, but we need time to find out. Right now we’re in the first flush of romance. We don’t know each other very well, or whether we’ll get along once the courtship phase wears off. And what about your family? I gather they weren’t too thrilled when you told them who you’re seeing.”

  “They’ll be fine once they know you,” he said. “Right now, all they have to go on is what they’ve read in the paper.

  “Well,” Nicole said, “before we do anything rash, I want to meet your family and, hopefully, get them to like me. And what about your friends? We don’t even know each other’s friends. Let’s be sensible. I mean, I’ve loved staying here with you, but actually moving in is a big step. And—well—I need some time to process what’s happened and sort myself out.”

  Josh looked dashed. He was silent until Nicole said, “It’s not like we’re going to stop seeing each other. Let’s revisit this conversation in six months. Okay?”

  He smiled, and they sealed the bargain with a kiss. Josh was up for more, but Nicole said, “Later. I need to spend the day out and about, tending to things I’ve had to let slide. I’ll take the rental car. I left mine in the garage at work. By now, they’ve probably had it towed. I’ll have to find out where it is.”

  “Take my car,” he said. “I’ll return the rental.
The agency is just a short walk from my office, and I usually walk to work anyway.” Then he added, “Hey—let’s go out to dinner tonight.”

  “Café Marie? I’d love that!”

  Nicole made some phone calls to set up appointments, then called her sister so they could discuss the good news. They didn’t talk long; Nicole had too much to do. First, she stopped by Daniel Freeman’s office to sign the papers accepting her inheritance. Freeman said it would be in her bank account the next day. He gave her the phone number of an accountant who could figure out the taxes owed on Robert’s unreported blackmail earnings and arrange for her to pay it. As for Robert’s house, he said he’d have the deed transferred over, but that would take several weeks. Of course she couldn’t put it up for sale before it was cleaned up and “staged” to help it sell. She could use the time to start the process.

  Next, Nicole called on her lawyer. Sue was wearing a pale pink dress, which made a dazzling contrast with her red curly hair. Nicole had forgotten how beautiful she was.

  Sue was clearly hurt that Nicole had dropped out of sight without telling her. Nicole apologized. “I’m really sorry, but I just didn’t know who I could trust, and the firm was paying you.”

  “I understand, Nicole,” Sue said, “but I thought you knew I’m on your side, and I’ve been so terribly worried about you. But let’s put it behind us. I’m glad you came by. Now, tell me: What are your plans now that this mess is behind you?”

  Nicole explained that she didn’t know, but she had accepted Robert’s bequest, and she and Josh were thinking about the future.