“Can we go to your place, Alex? I don’t want to face the circus just yet.”
“Sure, see you in a little while.” He gave Rupert a glare for good measure, and he and Diana went to find his car in the lot.
*
Looking around Rupert’s office, I wondered how he got any work done. Files were piled everywhere in the cramped space. He had a beat-up wooden desk arranged facing away from the small window. A metal filing cabinet loomed in the corner and held a dying jade plant, its leaves wrinkled and drooping.
“Who else is coming?”
“No one. You’re the only person I need to see.” He glanced up from riffling through the papers on his desk. I didn’t hold out much hope he would find what he was looking for.
“Aren’t you in charge of her will?” I reached out quickly to save a tottering pile from crashing to the floor.
“Ah, found it!” he said. He brandished a thick file and cleared a spot on his desk by making his other stacks taller.
“Here’s the recent one. We just revised it.” His eyes scanned the document. “I wonder if she knew . . .”
“Knew what?”
“About her own demise. She was very insistent that this will and testament be in place as soon as possible.”
“Mr. Worthington, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I assume you’re going to tell me I can keep Baxter?”
“Oh yes. You definitely can keep Baxter. You get everything, in fact.” He set the paper down and spread his hands.
“What?” I leaned forward to see the document.
“Ms. Twining changed her will about a month ago. She left everything to you.”
“What do you mean, ‘everything’?”
“Her house, her car, her dog, bank accounts . . . everything.” He smiled. “She does have one condition.” He held up a finger. “You must live in the house for one year before you sell it. After that, you may do as you wish. If you don’t abide by that condition, she has a clause here that allows the previous will to take effect.”
“But why would she do that?” The guilt of the way things had been between us in the last days of her life settled around me.
“She didn’t share that with me. She left you this letter.” He handed a thin envelope across the desk. I took it and slid it into my bag. Whatever she had to say, I wanted to be alone when I read it.
“You said the will had been changed. To whom had she left her things before?”
“Well, that’s really privileged information, but if you’re worried that she’ll have outraged relatives coming to contest it, don’t. She had no family. She left most everything to various charities in the past.” He flipped the file closed. “I heard you’ve just recently returned to Crystal Haven?”
“Yes, about a month ago.” I nodded and continued to stare at the closed file.
“Mmm, Ms. Twining was very pleased about that.” He opened a drawer and removed a set of keys.
“I don’t plan to stay. What am I going to do with a house?”
“You’ll have to decide whether you want to live in it or not.”
He dropped the keys into my palm.
*
I walked from Worthington’s office to the marina. I needed to clear my head and make a plan. Why had she left everything to me? What had she been thinking? She knew I wasn’t staying in town.
The letter from Tish was folded and stuffed in my bag. I sat on a bench facing the water and pulled it out.
The envelope was light purple and had my name scribbled on it. On the back flap she had scrawled “I’m sorry.” I ripped open the top and pulled out a piece of yellowed, folded notebook paper, and as I opened it, another, smaller purple note fell out onto my lap. But I wasn’t paying attention to the purple note. The notebook paper wasn’t from Tish; it was from Mac.
Dear Clyde,
I have to get away from Crystal Haven. I can’t keep living my life based on messages and dreams. I don’t think it’s what you want, either. I’m not going to pressure you and I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m going to Saginaw to take the job there. If you want to try a life together without all that mumbo-jumbo, meet me there.
Mac
There was no date, but I didn’t need one. It wasn’t his most romantic missive, but it would have changed everything. For weeks and then months after he left, I waited to hear from him. I had eventually accepted that our final argument about Dean Roberts had been Mac’s last straw. He must have thought I had chosen Crystal Haven over him. Mac was not the kind of guy to track anyone down. He assumed I had made my choice and left it at that. But why did Tish have the letter?