Chapter Seven
Maryse made a mad run to her cabin, hoping to get in and out before anyone could discover her—namely Helena. She’d showered and changed the Band-Aids on her scrapes the night before at the hotel, so all she really needed was a fresh set of clothes. But her hopes were dashed as soon as she opened the door. A very irritated Helena Henry sat on her couch, staring at the wall in front of her.
“Where the hell were you last night?” Helena started bitching before she could even get the door closed. “I had to crawl through an open window to get in here, and the damned thing closed after me. I’ve been stuck in here all night with no way to get out. Do you have any idea how boring it is when you can’t read a book or turn on the television? I spent hours reading the labels on cleaning supplies that happened to be turned in the right direction.”
Maryse’s head began to pound, and she walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water and one of Dr. Christopher’s little pills. Mildred’s aspirin weren’t going to do the trick at all.
Helena rose from the couch and trotted after her. “And why in the world does your kitchen look like the cabinets spit up their contents?” She waved one arm over the counters, cluttered with utensils, pantry items, and cleaners. “Your housekeeping is an atrocity.”
Maryse tossed one of the pills in her mouth and took a huge gulp of water, wishing she had the nerve and the time to take two of them and just go to sleep right where she stood. “We don’t all have the luxury of ten thousand square feet of space to store our stuff, Helena, and I’m not even going to get into the cost of hiring a maid. It so happens that I’m installing some extra shelves in the cabinets and building a pantry in the corner, which is why all my stuff is on the counters. If I’d have realized I was going to have uninvited guests, I would have worked quicker. I’m sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities with my less-than-stellar housekeeping.”
“Hmmpf. Got a mouth on you this morning, don’t you? Who pissed in your corn flakes?”
Maryse stared at her. “You. You pissed in my corn flakes. You almost got me arrested yesterday, Helena, and Lord only knows what Harold’s plotting to do to me now that I inherited the land.”
Helena waved a hand in dismissal. “You weren’t even close to being arrested. And Harold’s too big of a pansy to do anything to you. He’s all talk and no action—believe me, I ought to know.” Helena looked over the contents of the counters again. “Shelves, huh? Well, at least that explains the power tools on the counter. I was really starting to wonder what you ate in here. Still, place like this out in the middle of nowhere, you ought to at least leave a radio or the television or something turned on when you’re gone.”
Maryse considered Helena’s night dilemma and smiled. After all, Helena had bored everyone to tears for years in Mudbug running her yap. It seemed only fair that she be the one bored for a change. “It may surprise you to know, Helena, that I’m an adult and sometimes I don’t sleep at home. Since I have nothing of value to steal, my cat spends his nights prowling the bayou, and the mosquitoes aren’t as picky about their entertainment as you, I really see no reason to leave appliances running while I’m gone.”
Helena glared but didn’t bother to ask where Maryse had spent the night. “Well, since you’ve decided to show up today, we need to have a talk. Things might be a bit worse than I originally thought, and I need you to check up on something for me at the library.”
Maryse shook her head. “I don’t have time for any of your shenanigans today. I’m two days behind at my job, I have a meeting with Wheeler this morning to discuss the ‘rules’ that come with this land inheritance, and I have a whole list of personal things to take care of on top of everything else.” Maryse walked into her bedroom and yanked some clean clothes out of the closet, Helena trailing behind her.
“You know how to use a computer, right?” Helena asked. “One of those women down at the beauty salon said you can find the answers to anything on the Internet. I figured we could find out about all this ghost stuff. You know, I’d really be a lot more help if I could touch things.”
“God forbid,” Maryse said and pulled on a clean T-shirt and jeans. “You’ve been too much help already. What I need is for you to ascend or rise or whatever and let me deal with the fallout by myself.”
“But this is important,” Helena griped. “You can think up new names for stinkweed some other time.”
Maryse grabbed her keys and left the cabin, Helena close behind. “Sorry, Helena,” she said as she walked to the dock and stepped into her boat. “I know my job may seem like nothing to you, but it’s important to me, and I’d like to keep it. Besides, since naming stinkweed is what has paid your son’s debts all these years, you don’t really have any room to complain.”
Helena stepped into the boat before Maryse could shove away from the pier and plopped down on the bench up front. “Fine, I’ll just wait until this evening.”
Maryse shook her head, wondering where in the world she was going to hide this evening. It had just become a top priority.
At the dock, Helena took one look at the rental car and looked back at Maryse. “What’s with the car?”
Maryse opened the car door and started to get in, but Helena rushed in before her, crawling over the center console like a child. Maryse stared at the big pink butt glaring at her from the center of the car and sighed. Not a sight you ever wanted to see in life, much less this early in the morning and with a head injury.
There was a moment of concern, when Maryse thought Helena wasn’t actually going to make it all the way to the other side, but finally the ghost twisted around and plopped into the passenger seat. Maryse slid into the driver’s seat and tore out of the parking lot.
“Did you sell your truck?” Helena asked.
“No. I didn’t sell my truck. I had a wreck yesterday.”
Helena sat upright and turned in her seat to stare at Maryse. “What happened?”
Maryse shrugged. “I don’t know. The brakes just failed for some reason, and I took a dip in the bayou. The truck’s probably totaled.”
Helena’s eyes grew wider and looked Maryse up and down. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just banged up a little and pissed off that I’ll have to buy a new vehicle when the other one was still in great shape.” She studied Helena for a moment. “Why this concern all of a sudden?”
Helena sat back in her seat. “Have you read the instructions for the land inheritance yet?”
Maryse stared at Helena as if she’d lost her mind. “Are you kidding me? I just got it yesterday. Do you really think even if I had absolutely nothing else to do at all that I would rush home, break open a bottle of bubbly, and read the Encyclopedia Inherita? Jeez, Helena, I appreciate you leaving me the land and all, more than you’ll ever know, but it’s not the only thing I have going on.”
Helena pursed her lips and stared silently at the dashboard. “I know you’ve had a lot thrown at you here lately, and you’re not going to want to hear this, but I think it’s really important that you understand all the rules. It’s been so long since I’ve gone over them, but I keep thinking there’s something I ought to remember.”
“And that’s why I’m on my way to meet with Wheeler. He should know everything about your inheritance, right?”
Helena shook her head, deep in thought. “Maybe. I hope so.”
Maryse pulled in front of the café and parked the car. “Well, he better, because I bet that book is longer than the Bible and just as hard to interpret. I’m not trying to slack off on my responsibilities, Helena. I want to make sure I maintain control of the preserve, but there’s no way I can finish something like that and even hope to understand it without some serious time and probably a translator.”
Helena sighed. “You’re probably right. That document is as old as the land and so is the language it was written in.”
“Finally, we agree,” Maryse said and hopped out of the car. “I’ll get the basics from Wheeler and fill in the blanks as time and brainpower allow.” She pushed the car door shut and walked a good five steps down the sidewalk when she heard Helena yelling.
“Damn it, Maryse,” the ghost shouted from inside the car. “You know I can’t open the door. I could suffocate in here.”
Maryse walked back to the car and opened the passenger door to allow the angry specter out. She wasn’t even in the mood to argue the suffocation comment and that whole “you’re already dead” thing. She shook her head as Helena climbed out of the car. “You have got to learn how to walk through walls, Helena. I am not going to squire a ghost around town. Do you have any idea how weird this would look if someone was watching?”
“About as weird as you talking to a car door,” Helena shot back, then huffed up the sidewalk to stand next to the café door.
Maryse steeled herself for her appointment, now complete with a ghost, and let them both into the café.
Wheeler was already there, perched in a booth in the corner and looking as out of place as a Coors Light distributor at a Southern Baptist convention. Maryse crossed the café, signaling to the waitress for a cup of coffee, and took a seat across from Wheeler, intentionally sitting too close to the edge to allow Helena to sit next to her. Helena glared, then took a seat next to Wheeler, who shivered for a moment, then looked across the café.
“Must be a draft in here,” Wheeler said.
“Probably,” Maryse agreed as the waitress slid a cup of steaming coffee in front of her for the second time that day. “I’m not trying to rush you or anything, Mr. Wheeler, and I really appreciate you coming all the way down here to talk to me, but if you don’t mind, could we go ahead and get started? I have a very busy day and not enough daylight to get everything done.”
Wheeler nodded. “Absolutely. This shouldn’t take too much time. The basics for the land ownership are very straightforward.”
“Really? Then why the enormous book?”
“The book is as old as dirt and written in circles. Plus, there are a lot of rules that simply don’t apply anymore. Things to do with rice farming and possible exceptions for owning herds of cattle. Things you would never consider in the first place.”
“Okay. Then give me the skinny.”
Wheeler looked at her for a moment, probably not having a clue what “the skinny” was exactly, but finally decided she must mean the rules. “Well, the first item is one I covered briefly yesterday—you can’t leave Mudbug for a period of one week, starting yesterday. If you take even a step outside the city limits and anyone has proof, the land will revert to the secondary heir.”
“And who is that?”
“Hank. There is really no other option.”
Maryse nodded, not really surprised. “And why this rule at all? I have to tell you, Wheeler, it sounds kinda weird.”
Wheeler cleared his throat. “I agree that it probably sounds a little strange in this day and age, but back when the rules were written, health care wasn’t what it is today and the country was at war. If a son inherited the land and was called off to war before he could decide on an heir and draw up the paperwork, his death might leave the estate in limbo indefinitely. And the state wasn’t exactly diligent in ensuring the proper family maintained their estates. A lot of property was simply stolen by the state or passed on to political supporters.”
“I see. So the one-week period is supposed to give me time to select an heir and have the paperwork drawn up so that the land can’t hang in limbo with the state deciding how to settle it.”
“Exactly. Selecting an heir is one of the first things I need you to address. Since you don’t have children, you’re not limited by the trust in any way as to who you chose, except that it has to be an individual and not a corporation.” Wheeler paused for a moment. “You know, now that I think about it, you’re the first person outside of the bloodline to inherit the land. Amazing it was held that way for so long.”
“That is rather odd,” Maryse agreed. “Why hasn’t anyone sold it before now? Surely there have been offers, and I’m willing to bet that in a hundred years someone needed the money, even if Helena didn’t.”
“The land is held by the trust, not really the individual. The person who inherits gets limited control of the land and is the beneficiary of any income received off the land.”
“And the trust doesn’t allow for the sale of the land.” Maryse felt the light bulb come on. “So then why would it matter who inherited at all?”
“Well, the original trust documents were prepared long before anyone considered the possibility that companies and individuals might enter into long-term leases, essentially giving the same benefits to the lessee as buying. Helena felt you wouldn’t entertain those sort of offers, so she selected you.”
“Lucky me,” Maryse said, and smiled. “So you need me to select an heir, and it can be anyone I want, unless I have kids at some point and then things have to change. Is that the gist of it?”
“That’s correct. If you have no objection, I’ll be happy to draw up that paperwork for you as soon as you give me a name.”
Maryse pulled a pen from her pocket and proceeded to write Sabine’s name on a napkin. She pushed the napkin across the table to Wheeler. “I know it’s not very official, but I figure you just need the name, right?”
Wheeler folded the napkin and placed it in his suit pocket. “That will do. I’ll draw the papers up and make sure to get them signed and filed before the end of the one-week period. From that point forward, if anything were to happen to you, the land will be safe and secure in the hands you’ve selected.”
Maryse straightened in her seat and stared at Wheeler. “From that point forward?” She narrowed her eyes. “So God forbid, something happens to me in the next week, what happens to the land?”
“It passes to the next heir—Hank.”
“That’s it,” Helena shouted and jumped up from her booth. “That’s the part I couldn’t remember that I thought was important.”
Maryse stared at Wheeler in dismay. “You’re telling me I have to outlive Helena by a week or the land goes to Hank, no questions asked?”
Wheeler nodded.