by Winnie Reed
“That would depend upon whether the estate was settled or not. If it’s still in probate after all these years, the answer would most likely be no. It isn’t public record until everything’s finalized, as far as I know.” She nodded before I had the chance to ask the question. “Yes, I checked at the courthouse, too. But it was a long time ago. Things might have changed.”
Hmm. That was worth thinking about.
Mom brought a special baked good over for Lola to enjoy. “No blueberries this time,” she was quick to assure me, both of us remembering what I not so fondly thought of as Lola’s blue period, aka the time mom fed her enough blueberry muffins to make her poo blue for days.
At least she was little, which meant her poo was small, but still.
Trixie raised a knowing eyebrow. “What are you so interested in this for?” she asked.
“Why? Do you think there’s a story in it for you?” I teased.
“Maybe. What are you thinking?” She pulled over a chair and went so far as to pick up my fork and take a bite of my carrot cake. Only a very small handful of people in the entire world could get away with that and live to tell the tale.
“I’m thinking there might be something in that will of hers that will unlock an entire puzzle. I’m not a hundred percent sure yet that I have all the pieces in order, but I’m hoping that will change soon.”
It was like magic. The bell rang over the front door, and in walked Mrs. Merriweather. “Sylvia, did I leave my gloves here this morning? I traced my steps but can’t seem to find them anywhere.”
Mom hurried behind the counter and reached down, then straightened with a pair of mesh gloves in hand. “You took them off here at the counter, and I didn’t see them until after you’d left.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I was starting to doubt whether I’d worn them at all today!” She chuckled at herself as she put them on. I practically knocked my chair over, I was in such a hurry to get up.
“Mrs. Merriweather, I have a picture here on my phone. Can you tell me if it looks like somebody you know?” Just like I’d suggested to Raina, I had taken a picture of a picture. Nothing below the girl’s chest was visible. I expanded it, making the face bigger so she could see.
She squinted a little, tilting her head to the side. “My goodness. Where did you find this?”
“It’s a long story. Mom thinks it looks like—”
“Millicent. It’s Millicent Montbatten. Is that why you were asking me about her earlier today?”
My knees went weak. Finally, I had confirmation. “Yes, that’s why. I found this picture of her tucked into a used book, and I wanted to know who the girl was. Now I know.”
“Wasn’t she lovely? Such a good friend. I do miss her. But, that’s the way of life. When you get to be my age, you miss a lot of things.”
Mom drew her into conversation, while I returned to the table and sat down. I was trembling. “And now we know.”
“What do we know?” Trixie asked, leaning in. I knew that look in her eye. She sensed something big was on the horizon.
I handed my phone over. “The girl in the picture is pregnant. I want to know what happened to that baby, and whether that baby was who she left her estate to. The house got sold, but that’s all we ever heard of it. Right?”
“Right.” Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “What if it was all settled in secret?”
“It could’ve been. I don’t know why it matters so much to me, but I need to know. Something in this world has to make sense. Something has to have a neat, tidy ending.”
“Maybe she instructed her lawyer to just make a big bonfire of money and burn it,” Raina shrugged. “Maybe she left it all to a favorite pet.”
“While I can see myself leaving my nonexistent fortune to Lola, wouldn’t that make news?” I looked at Trixie.
“Sure, it would. And that wasn’t the case. She didn’t even have pets. Her favorite charities got a little something; I followed up on that, knowing she was a regular supporter of several local organizations. The bulk of her fortune went unaccounted for.”
I thought about that unfinished letter she never sent. Thought about that girl. Why she captured my imagination the way she did, I had no idea. I simply had to know if everything worked out for her, for her child.
“You feel like putting your investigative skill to good use?” I asked Trixie.
She flashed a wide smile. “Always.”
“Find out what happened to Frank Welburn. I have the feeling he’s the key to a lot of this.”
“He could be long gone by now,” Raina mused, licking cream cheese frosting from her fork with a blissful expression that ran counter to the glum reality she’d just suggested.
“That’s true. But, it’s worth following up on.” I gave Trixie the lowdown on why we thought Frank was so important. By the time I finished she was practically salivating.
“What a juicy story,” she mused. “An unwed mother, forced to give up her secret baby. A baby who might’ve grown up to be a millionaire.”
“Maybe. We don’t know that yet,” I reminded her.
“Which is why I said they might’ve.” She hopped up from her chair. “Good enough. I’ll start sleuthing. I’ve been dying to sink my teeth into something really good. Somebody didn’t want me to write about a certain murder at a certain resort in a certain city not far from here.”
I rolled my eyes. “And I thank you for that. I’ve told you so. Many times.”
“I know. I just like hearing it again.”
I had to laugh as she sashayed from the café. With Trixie on the case, there was no doubt we’d figure things out.
My laughter died when my phone, still sitting on the table, buzzed. “Oh, crap.” I tilted it in Raina’s direction so she could see Joe had texted.
“What’s he say?” she whispered, craning her neck to read the message.
Just one message, short and to the point. “I acted like an idiot.”
We looked at each other. She shrugged. “Yeah. He did. What else is new?”
“This is his way of apologizing. He’s not big on putting that sort of thing into words and if you for one second think I’ll allow you to tell me I understand him too well—”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she gasped, a hand over her chest, her lashes fluttering in mock innocence.
“Smarty pants,” I muttered before typing a message in reply. I know. I’m pretty good at that, myself.
Chapter Fifteen
“Thank you for coming to do this with me.”
“I’m still not quite sure why you need me…” Joe shot me a puzzled look.
“You’re a cop. You’re, I don’t know, official.”
“Hang on a second.” He stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, which was inconvenient seeing as how there were people behind him at the time. They walked around him, shooting dirty looks, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I’m not going to throw my job title around just because you have a whim about something.”
“I wouldn’t call this a whim, for one thing. And for another thing, you make it sound like I’m using you.”
All he did was raise his eyebrows, which both shamed and angered me. “I’m not! Jeez Louise. If I was going to buy a car, and I wanted to bring my father with me because I knew that in our patriarchal society a man is taken more seriously when it comes to things like that—and there’s less chance of them being overcharged—would you accuse me of using my father?”
“No.”
I nodded. “I feel like, first off, you’ll be taken more seriously than I will. And if we still get pushback from the clerk, who probably doesn’t want to be working on a Saturday morning in the first place so he’ll probably be in a bad mood, maybe you could casually mention that you’re a detective. You don’t have to pretend you’re working on a case. He’ll just assume.”
“You know, you talk about a patriarchal society, but you assume the clerk will be a man.”
“And if they happen to be a woman
, we’re good to go. Women tend to have a hard time refusing you, in case you didn’t notice.” I continued walking toward the courthouse, which was another couple blocks ahead.
“Do they?” It wasn’t really a question. More of a challenge. “How so? I’ve never noticed.”
“Oh, you are such a liar!”
“No, I’m not.”
I took a big step away from him, putting a few feet between us. “Just in case lightning happens to come down and strike you where you stand, I want to make sure I don’t get caught up in it.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Then you’re completely oblivious. Now, mind you, it’s not your fault. I don’t think you’re willfully being oblivious to your effect on some women. Were you, like, an inordinately handsome child? Were people always commenting on how good-looking you were?” He scowled a little, and I knew I was right. “So it’s just the way you’ve always been. You take it for granted. Believe me, try walking in the world looking like a normal person and see how far that gets you.”
“How would you know?” he snickered.
“Please. There’s nothing special about me. Raina is gorgeous. Men fall at her feet. I’m the one who helps them stand up again. That’s the way it’s always been, ever since college. She was the pretty friend.”
Whatever he thought about this, he kept it to himself. “Before we go in there and make fools of ourselves, why’s it so important that you see this will?”
“If that money didn’t go where it was supposed to go, there’s been an injustice. Maybe it did, maybe the lawyer settled things without putting any names out into the press. Maybe Millicent wanted it that way. Maybe she was still carrying those old-fashioned feelings inside—you know what I mean, like the whole baby thing had to be a secret, still. She might have specifically requested her lawyer use discretion. No big deal.”
“There you go again,” he chuckled.
“There I go again what?”
“Trying to save the world. You never knew this woman, you don’t know her kid, but you want to make sure justice was served.”
“Well, I don’t consider that a fault,” I sniffed.
“I never said it was.” We jogged up the steps to the courthouse together, with Joe holding the door for me. “Just try not to get your hopes up too far, in case this all amounts to nothing.”
“There’s that positive attitude.” I smirked. “It would be like a day without sunshine.”
“Cute.” He followed me to the desk, where a middle-aged man I vaguely recognized eyed us suspiciously.
“Can I help you?” He might as well have yawned right in our faces.
Still, I kept a sunny disposition. “I hope so! I was wondering if I could obtain a copy of a will. I’m… doing research now that the Montbatten home is being turned into a museum, and it came to my attention that the contents of Millicent Montbatten’s will were never made public. It would really be helpful to my research if I could find out where she directed her state.” Where all of that came from, I had no idea. I’d walked into the courthouse with absolutely no excuse in mind.
Probably something I should’ve thought out before we arrived.
The man sniffed like he smelled something funny. “Oh? Do you think it’s that simple? You think you’re owed a look at another person’s last will and testament just because you’re curious?”
“Uh, yes? I’m not trying to be disrespectful, and I understand you have a job to do. But so do I.” He didn’t need to know that was a lie. I only hope Joe wouldn’t give me away. He’d managed to keep his mouth shut so far, but there was no telling how long that would last.
A look his way from the corner of my eye told me he found this entire situation pretty funny. I should’ve guessed.
“You’re not some disgruntled relative, are you?”
I chuckled. “Believe me, I think I would know if I was a relative. You know me. My mom runs Sweet Nothings? I worked there all the time. I know I’ve seen you in there before.”
His gaze softened, just a little. Memories of Mom’s baked goods tended to do that to people. “Oh, sure. And your father is Detective Harmon.”
“That’s right!” Good, good, this was all going well.
“I would think you would know, then, that there are certain channels a person has to go through in order to obtain a copy of another person’s will. Especially when they are neither the deceased’s legal counsel, nor the executor.”
Son of a gun. Was he bluffing? I didn’t have the foggiest idea. All I knew was, my chances of getting a look at Millicent’s last wishes was dwindling with every breath I took.
“Maybe I could take a look, then,” Joe suggested. I could’ve been imagining things, but his voice had suddenly gone deeper. More commanding. He was in full-on detective mode. “Detective Joe Sullivan, Paradise City Police Department. I’m assisting Miss Harmon in her research.”
The clerk was visibly surprised by this—still, he wasn’t completely convinced. “What does Paradise City have to do with this? Why would the police be investigating?”
“That’s not exactly public information,” Joe murmured, lowering his brow. “In honesty, I’m not operating in an official capacity. This is more of a favor to a friend. And it would go a long way toward helping us with our research if you would do us a solid. No one has to know you were involved.”
The poor guy. He didn’t know which end was up. A quick glance back and forth between the two of us told me he was trying to decide whether we were on the level. “You have five minutes. Five minutes from the time I bring you the document. You are not to touch it except to flip the pages, and I will be watching the entire time. No taking pictures, no nothing.”
“Done! I mean, whatever you want.” I was too excited to even control the volume of my voice. It rang out like the gong of bells in the otherwise empty front office. It seemed like there weren’t that many people doing business there on a Saturday morning in the middle of summer.
“Okay. Wait here. Don’t make me regret this.” He took a set of keys with him, his footsteps clicking smartly down the hall until he disappeared into a room near the end.
I turned to Joe and clapped my hands silently. “That was great. You did a terrific job!”
“You’re pretty quick on your feet.” He snickered.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that was a compliment.”
“Good thing you know better, then.” He rubbed the back of his neck, chagrined smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “I hope I don’t end up regretting this.”
“What is there to regret?”
“The fact that I name-dropped an entire police department.”
I shook my head. “You walked it back pretty well. You said you weren’t here in any official capacity. So you couldn’t get in trouble. If you need me to back you up, I will.”
“I know that’s supposed to make me feel better, but…”
“Don’t even say it,” I warned, holding up my clenched fist.
It was only another minute or two before the clerk came back holding a folder. He was shaking his head, muttering to himself like this was a bad idea and he should’ve known better. I tried my best to put on a sunny smile, to reassure him somehow.
“Thank you so much,” I whispered when he reached us. He very pointedly ignored my gratitude, spreading the folder open on the ledge in front of his desk.
“Remember. Five minutes, no picture taking. I have my eye on you.” He took his seat, folding his arms over his chest and staring at us.
I skimmed as quickly as possible, my brain stumbling over some of the bigger words. I didn’t have time to get caught up in trying to make sense of the legalese. I only wanted to know the names of her beneficiaries.
Sure enough, there was a list of organizations and charities, just like Trixie said. Considering the size of the donations—ten thousand here, twenty there—it shouldn’t have comprised more than a small fraction of her overall wealth.
; “A little under a half a million bucks,” Joe murmured, reading along with me.
“You added that up in your head?”
“What, you think I’m incapable of basic math?” He flipped the page, and we kept reading. My eyes darted back and forth so fast, it was amazing that I hadn’t given myself a headache.
Finally, we reached the last section, where the remaining bulk of Millicent’s estate was directed to a single beneficiary.
“I knew it,” I whispered, my heart in my throat. “I just knew it!”
Chapter Sixteen
“Okay. So let’s get this straight.” Raina walked with her arms folded, which was generally how she walked when she was deep in thought. “Millicent had a son.”
“She refers to him as her son in the will, yeah.” I could hardly keep my heart from pounding right out of my chest. Never had I imagined getting so lucky.
“She never learned his name and had no idea where he’d ended up.”
“Right.”
“Or if he was even alive.”
“Obviously.”
“And she wanted her lawyer, this Bernard guy, to track the son down and grant him the bulk of her estate.”
“Exactly. She even put his birthdate in there. August twentieth, nineteen forty-nine.”
She whistled. “Not exactly ancient, but anything could’ve happened to the guy.”
“I know. There’s hope, though. Seventy isn’t exactly ancient.”
“No, but that’s a lot of years.”
“I know, I know. Come on! Aren’t you excited? We’re closer than ever!”
She giggled, but I had the feeling it was mostly because Lola was mirroring my energy and jumping around, pawing at my knees. That was as high up as she could reach.
“Yeah, I’m excited. I’m glad you know you’re on the right track.”
“We. You’re just as much a part of this as I am.”
We kept walking down the boardwalk, which wasn’t easy with so many people around and with Lola wanting to meet every last one of them. Raina was quiet for a while before murmuring, “This isn’t my mystery. Your mysteries can’t always be mine. I’m gonna have to leave again, Monday morning at the latest. I promised Nate I’d visit.”
