Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
At the end of Main Street, just after the last of the shops and restaurants, a massive stone and timber building loomed over the street. The Inn at Sawyers Bend. I’d grown up running in those halls, had eaten more than one meal in the family booth in the elegant dining room.
I drove past, averting my eyes. I wasn’t here for a trip down memory lane. I was here so Harvey could read my father’s will. That was it.
I passed the Inn and turned away onto a road that curved behind Main Street. I parked in front of a perfectly maintained Victorian that hadn’t changed in twenty years, the sign out front swinging gently in the breeze. Harvey Benson, Attorney at Law.
Only two cars were parked in the gravel lot. One was a late model Mercedes sedan. Harvey’s, I guessed, probably paid for by the umpteen-million changes in my father’s will.
The other was a beige four-door sedan. Not old, not new, it was bland, with absolutely nothing to distinguish it from any other car on the highway. Hope’s car. I don’t know how I knew. I hadn’t seen her car in Atlanta. I just knew.
It was a burr under my skin, digging deep when I shouldn’t even care. What the hell was Hope doing driving a car like that? Hope belonged in a bright red Volkswagen bug or a Mini Cooper. Maybe a jeep. Hope did not belong in a beige sedan. What had happened to her?
Why do you care?
Hope was the past. Hope was a liar who’d screwed me over. Hope was the reason I’d been kicked out of my childhood home in the first place.
So what if she was a ghost of herself? So what if she’d changed? Hadn’t we all?
Just get this over with, I reminded myself. Listen to Harvey read the will and then get back to your life. You don’t belong here. Not anymore.
I shoved my car key in my pocket and strode up the front steps, not bothering to knock. The door was unlocked.
“Harvey?” I called out.
A round face with apple-red cheeks poked through a doorway, a jovial smile that didn’t fit the occasion lighting his eyes. Harvey Benson didn’t look a day older than he had the last time I’d seen him. Maybe a little more gray at the temples, maybe his belly was a little bigger, but otherwise, this was the Harvey I’d always known.
He strode forward and stuck out his hand. “Griffen, my boy. It’s good to see you. Sorry about the circumstances. Your father left us a big pile of shit, but now that you’re here we can get it sorted out. Come on in, come on in.”
I’d always liked Harvey’s upfront manner. My father spun webs of nuance and manipulation, but Harvey just laid it all out. I had a feeling that was going to come in handy.
He led me into his office and rounded his desk, sitting in his big leather chair and gesturing to one of the seats opposite. I almost didn’t notice Hope in the other chair by the desk. How did she disappear like that?
Today she wore a black suit, identical to the suit she’d worn the day before except in color. Ill-fitting but expensive. It should have been well-tailored considering the quality of the fabric. So why—
Focus, Griffen, I lectured myself. You’re here for the will. Not Hope. Hope can deal with her own problems. You’ve got enough of those yourself.
I rolled my stiff shoulder. Yeah, I had my own problems. Whatever was wrong with Hope had nothing to do with me.
“We need to head on out to the cemetery in a minute, but before the zoo starts, I wanted to have a word.”
“I thought I was only here for the will,” I said. “He hasn’t been buried yet?”
“Prentice was specific about how he wanted this handled,” Harvey explained. “Nothing at the church. Family only at the cemetery, then back here to read the will. We’ve been waiting for you.”
At least the whole town wouldn’t be there. Harvey cleared his throat and gave me an apologetic look. That couldn’t be good.
“I want you to know before this ball gets rolling, I was your father’s estate attorney, but he rarely took my advice. None of this was my idea. I’m going to remind you again after the service, but I’ll tell you now while we’re private—you don’t stand a chance in hell of fighting it.”
Harvey looked remorseful. I flicked a glance at Hope, surprised to see a hint of confusion in her eyes, hidden beneath her mask of composure. So, Hope didn’t know what he was talking about either.
“Are you that good, or was my father that crazy?”
With a rueful laugh, Harvey shook his head. “Both, son. Both.”
“Why is Hope here?” I asked. “Did my father leave her something?”