Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I nearly fall backward. My mother never curses. She means business.
Dad is as surprised as I am. He actually takes a step backward. “Lori?”
“It’s over. We will take care of this lien business. That’s what our attorneys are for. And yes, I agree we should pay them. Not the Steel family.”
“I agree with that as well,” I say. “I’ll talk to Donny.”
“You do that,” Dad says. “I expect that firm to cash the check I wrote. The citizens of this good city will take care of our own mess.”
I inch toward the door. “I have to get home. Can I leave here and trust that you two won’t be at each other’s throats?”
“If your father promises to let this go.”
“Someone should pay,” he says.
“Yes. Wendy Madigan should’ve paid sixty years ago when she did it. And everyone else who helped her should’ve paid. But they’re all dead now, Sean, so they’re paying in hell.”
Dad doesn’t look convinced, but he finally sighs. Then, “I love you, Lori.”
“I love you too.”
That’s my cue to leave. “And I love you both. Dad, I’ll be in touch after I talk to Donny.”
Dad simply nods, and I leave.
Chapter Forty
Ava
I stayed home until the county coroner came and pronounced my grandmother dead. We kept the body there until Mom’s lab tech confirmed the blood we took from the body indeed came from my father’s mother.
Dad talked to Lauren, Wendy’s actual next of kin on paper, and she wouldn’t sign off on an autopsy.
“She said she didn’t care if her mother was dead from natural or unnatural means,” Dad relayed to us. “I could have overridden her wishes, but I chose not to.”
We all understood. Later, the mortuary came, took the body, and Dad went with them, keeping his eye on the body the whole time, watching as they took her into the crematorium, and because he paid them extra, he was allowed to watch the body go up in flames.
No ceremony.
None of us wanted one.
Now we have to wait to see if Dad’s hunch is right—if Wendy’s daughter Lauren is his true sister.
Three more days until I open the bakery back up for business.
The noise of construction hasn’t bothered me much, but I’ve also spent several nights at my parents’ house.
Tonight, though, knowing Wendy Madigan is gone for good, I plan to sleep well. And I want to be in my own bed.
Before I do that, it’s time to draw a card.
Just one card, so I take my deck, replace the three cards that I still haven’t put away, shuffle it once, twice, three times, and hold it to my heart.
I infuse it with my warmth, my energy, my soul.
Already I know what it’s going to be before I draw it.
And there it is.
Death.
A skeleton riding a horse and wielding a sickle.
Dying people—from the highest elite to the lowest peasant—surround death.
I drew the card upright.
And already I know what it means.
It doesn’t signify Wendy’s death or my own. Or anyone’s, for that matter.
It simply means…the end.
The end of the mystery. The end of the story. No, I didn’t get all the answers I sought, but I got a lot of them, and I understand myself better.
My grandmother is gone, and that’s the best thing for my family. Especially for my father.
It’s time to move on.
If Lauren turns out to be his full-blooded sister, we’ll deal with that then.
And the Steel Trust.
I have my own ideas about how to deal with that fallout.
I’ll be talking to the attorney Wolfram soon.
My phone rings.
A Denver area code, and not a number that I recognize.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hello, Ms. Steel. This is Duke Wolfram from Wolfram and Burke in Denver.”
“Funny, I was just thinking about you guys. What can I do for you?”
“I think maybe it’s what I can do for you, Ms. Steel. An envelope came to our office this morning. It was hand-delivered, but no one saw who dropped it off. Inside is the last will and testament of Wendy Madigan. And you are her sole beneficiary.”
“What?”
“Yes. It appears to be legal. The will was signed about a year ago.”
“Before she went into a coma.”
A pause. “When was Wendy Madigan in a coma?”
“It was self-induced. Or something. None of us got any concrete answers.”
“Apparently, Wendy Madigan was the sole principal of the Fleming Corporation, which is the trustor for the Steel Trust.”
“So this all means…”
“What this means, Ms. Steel, is that you’re a very rich woman. As the beneficiary of the trust, and as the beneficiary to Ms. Madigan’s sizable estate, you’re now worth about thirty-five million dollars.”
“Wait, wait, wait…” My heart nearly stops. “I don’t need her money. I don’t want her money.”
“That’s certainly your prerogative, but you’re entitled to it. Can you come into my office tomorrow?”
“Yeah, yeah. I want to bring my dad with me. And my boyfriend.”