“Lee was a good lawyer, but he made terrible financial decisions.” Hannah lifted a bank statement. “Lee’s law school debt totaled six figures. He deferred payments for years, and he hasn’t paid much of the principal off. I know law practices have been hit hard by the economy, but his salary was a lot lower than I expected. He wasn’t willing to move to chase a higher-paying job.” She thumbed to another page. “They couldn’t afford this house or the BMW.”
“Why do you make so much money?” Mac asked Hannah.
“I speak three languages. I work eighty-hour weeks for a large private firm, and I’m willing to live in hotels. Small-town firms can’t pay hefty salaries.” Hannah dropped the paper on the blotter. “I didn’t borrow as much money as Lee either. I had scholarships and a work-study program. Basically, I’ve had no personal life for the last ten years.”
Grant knew all about having no life outside of work. “Why would he keep borrowing if he was already underwater?”
“You know Lee, the perennial optimist.” Hannah rubbed her neck. “Remember when we were kids. Lee was always the one to say things would work out.”
“So what will happen to the house now?” Grant asked. “I’d hate for the kids to be forced from their familiar surroundings.”
“Lee’s student loans go away with a death certificate. We’re lucky there. They don’t always. Actually, both Lee and Kate had decent life insurance. It should be enough to bring everything current, with a bit left over. If they hadn’t died, they would have lost the house in six months.” Hannah set the paper down.
“Did they have any money in the bank?” Grant couldn’t believe Lee was broke. What the hell was going on with his brother?
“No.” Hannah shook her head. Her short, straight hair fell back into its precise cut. “Their savings ran dry months ago. They used every dime for the down payment on this house.” She paused, sucking a deep breath in through her nose.
“What is it?” Grant asked.
“I don’t know how to say this. I feel guilty for even thinking it.” Hannah stared at the desktop. “In the last few weeks, Lee’s account shows two inexplicable cash deposits of nine thousand, five hundred dollars each, just small enough to avoid federal reporting requirements.”
Shock silenced them.
“There has to be an explanation.” Grant’s mind scrambled. “Could he have closed an account somewhere?”
“I’m still looking.” Hannah’s eyes reflected Grant’s disbelief. “But so far, the money seems to come from nowhere.”
“Where could Lee have gotten almost twenty grand?” Mac asked.
They stared at each other for a minute.
“Keep digging. There must be some logical explanation.” Rejecting the possibility that Lee could have done anything amiss, Grant rubbed his forehead. “But if their life insurance should cover their outstanding debts, then whoever takes the kids can stay in the house.”
“I think so. Unless more liabilities turn up, or we find their will and it makes other provisions.” Hannah gathered the papers on the desk. “But if it comes down to it, I have some cash put aside. They won’t have to leave this house if we decide they should stay.”
“Same here.” Except for the money he sent to the nursing home, most of Grant’s pay went into the bank. He didn’t have a family to support and had few housing expenses. His savings account was healthy. If Lee had told him he was so broke, Grant would have helped out.
Maybe if Grant had called more, he’d have known his brother was in financial trouble.
“Where could they have stored their legal documents?” Grant scanned the room. Its small size limited possible locations, but the rest of the house . . .
She shook her head. “I’ve been through his entire desk and computer files. If they had a will, it’s not here.”
“Maybe they didn’t have a will.” Mac rubbed an ink mark on the tan leather ottoman next to his thigh. “They didn’t count on dying this young.”
“True, but Lee was a planner.” Hannah slid the papers into a folder. “Even in debt, he provided life insurance for his family. The will must be here somewhere.” She opened a second file, and they all drew a collective, silent breath. “Now we need to talk about funeral arrangements. I thought we’d use Stokes Funeral Home on First Street. It’s the one we used for Mom.” Her voice cracked. She paused to press her knuckles against her mouth.
Grief filled Grant’s chest like concrete.
Mac slid the ottoman forward and pulled her into a hug. “Why don’t you let me take care of the funeral arrangements? I’ll go down there today, talk to the director, and we can reconvene here tonight. That way, when . . .” Mac paused as if he couldn’t get the words out. “When the medical examiner releases the bodies, we’ll be ready.”
“Are you sure?” Grant was used to handling the tough decisions. Of course, he was also accustomed to his orders being followed, and that only applied in the military. His family did not recognize him as a superior officer. The only one who listened to him was Carson. Faith screamed in his face for eight hours a night. Mac’s lifelong modus operandi was to agree, then do whatever he wanted. Hannah would argue until the season changed. And he didn’t even want to think about his discussion with Ellie next door. She clearly wasn’t following any orders.
“Yeah.” Mac exhaled hard, then nodded. “Hannah has the legal and financial stuff under control. You’ve got the kids handled. Let me contribute something.”
“It’s all right with me,” Grant agreed. “Hannah?”
She nodded. “Thanks, Mac.”
“We need to coordinate errands so one of us is here with the kids. I asked Julia from next door to babysit for a couple of hours this afternoon to help out. But considering everything that’s happened, I’d still feel more comfortable if one of us is in the house.”
“Agreed.” Hannah frowned. “What about Dad?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t remember me when I visited him,” Grant said. “I didn’t see any point in telling him about Lee and Kate.”
“How do you think he’d feel if he misses the funeral?” Hannah’s voice caught.
Was their father’s illness one of the reasons she stayed away from Scarlet Falls? She’d been chasing his attention all her life. As a teen, Hannah was the best marksman of the four of them. But the Colonel had still been focused on his boys. His slight hadn’t been intentional. He didn’t know what to do with a girl. Intentional or not, Hannah had felt his disinterest. She probably would have gone into the service after college if their father hadn’t been so outspoken in his disapproval of women in the military.
“If he doesn’t remember Grant, he won’t remember the rest of us,” Mac said.
Grant turned. “Why do you say that?”
Mac lifted a palm. “You were always his favorite. For the last few years before the dementia took over, all he ever talked about was you becoming a general. Lee was never aggressive enough for the Colonel. Hannah was, but the old man didn’t see it.” Mac rubbed his sister’s shoulder. “Sorry, Sis. He totally missed the boat on that one. You’re the toughest of all of us.”
Hannah’s lip twisted into a weak smile. Grant knew that, on the outside, Hannah was tough as nails, but inside? Not so much.
“What about you?” Grant asked. “Mr. Outdoorsman.”
“Nah.” Mac waved a hand. “By the time I was old enough for him to take any interest in me, he already had you in the military academy. I skated under the radar. Could you imagine if he knew I spent my time living in a tent, studying families of otters? At least Lee and Hannah are lawyers. I’m a biologist who can’t keep his own fish alive.”
“That is pretty sad.” Grant laughed, then sobered.
“There’s an option for Carson, though,” Mac said. “Boarding school—”
“No.” Grant interrupted him. “I hated that place.�
��
“Really?” Hannah lifted her head. “I was so jealous I couldn’t go.”
“Yes,” Grant admitted. “Well, maybe I didn’t hate the place as much as being away from all of you. I was only twelve. And there were no girls.”
“You never said anything.” Hannah straightened the already perfect piles of papers on the desk.
“How could I?” Grant sighed. “Dad was so proud. I would have broken his heart. But that brings me to my next item for discussion.” Grant paused and listened at the door for a second. No sounds from upstairs. He lowered his voice. “What are we going to do about the kids?”
“Is it really just the three of us?” Mac asked. “Doesn’t Kate have any family?”
“Not that I know of—”
“She does.” Hannah reached for the bottom desk drawer. “I found an old address book with Kate’s handwriting.” She lifted out a small black book and opened it. “Mom is penciled under M. There’s a phone number.”
Mac leaned forward. “That’s a Boston exchange. That book looks old.”
“Probably is.” Hannah flipped through pages. “I found it stuck behind the drawer. Shall I call the number?”
The baby’s cries echoed in the hallway.
“The master calls.” Grant stood up. “I vote yes. The number might not even work, but I think Kate’s parents have a right to know about her death.”
Faith cried louder. Grant turned and hurried to the kitchen. The TV was on in the adjoining family room. Before Hannah had summoned him to the office, he’d been watching the news. As he prepared the formula, he read the weather report scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Shaking the bottle, he turned to leave the kitchen.
“Stay tuned for the noon report as the parents of Lindsay Hamilton speak out on the murder of their attorney, Lee Barrett.”
“Oh my God.” Mac’s voice came from behind Grant.
He turned. In the doorway, Mac stared at the screen. Upstairs Faith jacked up the volume. The girl had lungs.
“Can you record that?” Grant pointed to the TV. “And then turn it off. I don’t want Carson to hear it if he comes downstairs.”
“I’m on it.” Mac moved toward the digital cable box.
Grant grabbed the bottle he’d already prepared and climbed the steps to the nursery. Could the Hamilton case file be the one Lee’s boss was seeking? He’d have to find out later. If the report made the noon news, it would be on the Internet somewhere. He’d either watch the recording when Carson was asleep or he’d web surf until he found it. The news network would probably have the clip on their website feed.
Faith was on her belly holding her head and chest off the crib mattress.
“I guess you know how to roll over.” Grant picked her up and settled in the rocking chair to feed her. He grabbed the book he’d found on Kate’s nightstand, What to Expect in the First Year, and looked for the page where he’d stopped reading earlier. “OK, Faith, where were we? By your baby’s fourth month, you both should be enjoying a full night’s sleep. Faith, have you read any of this book?”
Footsteps at the doorway interrupted him. Hannah walked into the nursery.
“Do you want to feed her?” Grant asked.
“She looks comfortable with you.” Hannah perched on the edge of the toy box. “So I called that number. Kate’s mother answered. She and Kate’s father live outside of Boston. She said they haven’t spoken to Kate in almost ten years. She didn’t say why. They’re driving down.”
“Get any vibes from the call?”
“Icy ones.”
Coming from Hannah the corporate attorney, who could negotiate billion-dollar contracts in three languages without breaking a sweat, that said a lot.
“So if she hasn’t seen Kate in a decade, she doesn’t know the kids.” Second thoughts weighed on Grant. “I hope we haven’t let a panther out of the bag.”
“Me too,” Hannah said. “Mac left for the funeral home. That’s all right with you?”
“Definitely. I have enough on my plate. I have to run to the ice rink where Kate worked. I won’t be long. You’re on kid duty.”
Staring at the baby, Hannah took a deep breath. “I hope I can do this half as well as you.”
Grant traded places with Hannah. “Sit.” He handed the baby to his sister. “Burp her halfway through.”
“But—”
“You’ll be fine. In the daytime, she’s a happy baby.” He ducked out to check the room across the hall. Carson had flung off the covers and sprawled sideways across his twin mattress. Grant pulled the door closed and went back to the nursery. “Carson’s still asleep. Keep an ear out for him. He’ll want a snack when he wakes up.”
Downstairs, Grant donned a coat and boots. AnnaBelle whined at the back door. “All right, you can come outside with me.” AnnaBelle bounded out into the snow. Grant found a shovel in the garage. He cleared a path from the garage to the back door. Shovel in hand, he headed for the front of the house. Barking drew his attention to Ellie’s house.
“Good dog.” A small figure huddled on the front steps leading to the porch. AnnaBelle crowded close.
Grant crossed the lawn. “Nan?”
“Grant.” Nan exhaled in relief. Dressed in jeans, a sweater, and sheepskin boots, Ellie’s grandmother shivered on a patch of ice. She clutched one arm to her chest. Her teeth chattered. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“What happened?” He dropped to one knee beside her.
“I came out to get a package on the porch, and I slipped down the steps. I twisted my ankle and landed on my wrist.”
“How long have you been out here?” He looked her over.
“I don’t know. Maybe half an hour.”
Given her age and absence of body fat, that was too long. “Is it just your ankle and wrist?”
“My pride took a nice knock, too.” Nan winced. “I didn’t hurt anything vital. I tried to crawl back into the house, but I couldn’t get up the steps.”
Grant eyed the three cement steps she’d fallen down. No doubt she had bruises she wasn’t feeling yet. “Let me get you inside and we’ll get a look at that ankle. Ready?” Grant scooped the tiny old woman off the icy concrete.
“Oh, my.” She gripped his shoulder as he carried her into the house.
AnnaBelle pranced beside him past the gutted living room. Grant walked back to the kitchen and set Nan down on a chair. He sat in the chair opposite and put a hand on the back of her boot. “This is probably going to hurt.” She didn’t make a sound as he eased it off her foot, then peeled down her wool sock, but her ashen face tightened. Her ankle was swollen to an angry purple. “I think I’d better take you to the ER.”
“Oh, maybe we could try icing it for a while” Her voice shook as she shivered again.
He gave her foot a doubtful glance. “I’m afraid it could be broken.” Hypothermia was also a concern. “You should call Ellie.”
“I hate to bother her while she’s at work.”
“She’s going to want to know.”
“Oh, all right. Would you hand me my cell?” She pointed to the end table, and he passed her the phone. “I hope she doesn’t get in trouble.”
“I’m sure Ellie’s boss will make an exception in an emergency.” While Grant was in there, he snatched a blanket off the back of the sofa. He wrapped it around her shoulders. Her color was graying. She was clearly in much more pain than she would admit. He didn’t want to wait any longer. “Tell her to meet us at the hospital.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ellie finished reviewing her flash drive. There was no sign that anyone in the office, including Frank, was hiding any information about the Hamilton case. Where could she look next? Grant had been less than cooperative. She put her palm to the fatigue ache in the center of her forehead. She hadn’t slept since Julia had tried to sneak off the night
before. She’d never be able to close her eyes again.
Her top drawer vibrated. She opened it and checked her cell phone in case it was Nan or the school. A message alert displayed, but she didn’t recognize the number. Ellie opened the text, discretely leaving the phone in her drawer. Normally, she wouldn’t violate the no-personal-calls rule, but there was nothing normal about this week. A photo appeared on the screen.
She gasped.
Though the image was dim, Ellie recognized the picture of her house. Grant, Taylor, and Julia stood on the front lawn, their images grainy but recognizable in the dark. Grant held Taylor by the arm. Under the photo was a caption: Have you found the file?
Helpless tears prickled the corners of Ellie’s eyes. Hoodie Man had been at the house last night when Julia was outside, vulnerable. If Grant hadn’t been there, Hoodie Man could have gotten her daughter. She typed need more time and hit the Send button.
What was she going to do? Would more time even help? She had no idea where to look.
Her phone buzzed with a return message: time is running out.
The piles of work on her desk blurred. Ellie had to get inside Lee’s house. Though Grant’s words had been ambiguous, she knew he had some of the firm’s files. Hoodie Man wasn’t going to wait.
She shuffled the expense reports on her desk, but her mind wasn’t on her work. Her phone buzzed from her drawer. Alarm coursed through her. What else did Hoodie Man want?
Nan’s cell phone number appeared on the display. Ellie’s already thudding heart went into overdrive. No. They couldn’t have hurt Nan. She stabbed her keypad three times with a shaking finger before successfully hitting the Answer key. “Nan?”
“Don’t get upset. I’m all right.”
Fear washed cold through Ellie’s veins. “What happened?”
“It’s not a big deal.” But her grandmother’s voice sounded weak. “I just slipped on the steps. I didn’t want to call, but Grant made me.”
“Let me talk to him.” Ellie heard Grant’s voice in the background, then the sound of the phone being passed.
Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls) Page 13
