The cousins glared at Wheeler and left the office, not bothering to take their envelopes. The nun thanked Wheeler and headed out wearing a dazed expression. It was no wonder. Her orphanage had just inherited the bank, and she’d probably heard more cussing in the past half hour than she had in the past forty years.
Wheeler watched as the nun closed the door behind her, then blew out a breath and slumped into his chair. “There are requirements of your inheritance that we need to discuss, Ms. Robicheaux, but I hope you don’t mind if we go through them tomorrow. This entire exchange has exhausted me, and I have another appointment after this one.”
“I understand. I’m feeling kind of tired myself.”
Wheeler reached behind his desk and brought up a huge document bound in expensive leather. “This is all the instructions and restrictions that accompany the land inheritance. This land has been in Helena’s family for well over a hundred years, so a lot of the old rules were established long before my time and yours. You need to review this document in its entirety as soon as possible.”
He pushed the document across the desk to Maryse, and she lifted it, momentarily surprised by the weight.
“If you have no objection, I can meet you in Mudbug first thing tomorrow so we can go over the most relevant points. I’ll give you a call this evening to arrange a place to meet. In the meantime, the only thing you need to know is that you can’t leave town.”
Maryse stared at him. “What do you mean I can’t leave town?”
“It’s one of the restrictions of the original estate. You must remain in Mudbug for a probationary period of one week. That’s why I’m going to meet you there tomorrow. Once the probationary period is over, you’re free to go anywhere, of course.” He reached into his desk and handed Maryse an envelope. “There’s a set of documents inside that detail Helena’s agreement with the state for the lease of the preserve. The annual payment from the state is due next week, which means you’ll be receiving a check for fifty thousand dollars.”
Fifty thousand dollars a year! Maryse sucked in a breath and stared at Wheeler in surprise. “You’re kidding me.”
Wheeler smiled. “Not in the least, Ms. Robicheaux. Helena left you her most prized possession. It wasn’t an easy decision for her. You should feel honored.”
Maryse shook her head, the strangeness of the past two days washing over her. “But why?”
“One day, the land will be worth quite a bit of money…to developers and others. Helena was afraid that if it fell into the wrong hands, it would be immediately leased out to a chemical company or the like and the town she grew up in and loved would cease to exist. She held firm on the belief that you wouldn’t allow that to happen, regardless of the money involved.”
Maryse began to understand. If a chemical company leased the land, they’d close off the bayou, inserting sludge ponds for their runoff and new manufacturing facilities for their products where there was once marsh. The tides would shift, and with the tides, the shrimp, fish, and all other bayou commodities that Mudbug residents made a living off of would disappear. If those commodities ceased to exist, so would Mudbug.
Helena had given her a great gift, but how could she have been so sure that Maryse wouldn’t sell out? Had Helena really had that much faith in her integrity, or was the only other choice so bad that she gambled on the second?
Maryse thanked Wheeler, lugged the giant leather book onto one hip, and made her way out of the building. As she stepped outside, she scanned the parking area for her truck before remembering it was sinking in the middle of the bayou.
Great. She yanked her cell phone from her pocket and pressed in 411. She was just about to hit the Talk button when Wheeler’s receptionist rushed outside and let out a breath of relief.
“Oh, thank goodness, you’re still here,” the receptionist said. “I completely forgot to give you this.” She handed Maryse a rental car agreement and a set of keys. “A very nice young man dropped these off while you were in the reading. He said to tell you not to worry about your truck. He arranged to have it towed to a friend at the dealership.”
“He what?” Maryse asked, no doubt in her mind who the nice young man was.
The receptionist smiled at Maryse. “You’re so lucky to have such a gentleman looking out for you. It’s the red Honda Accord parked across the street.” She gave Maryse a wave and walked back into the office.
“Gentleman my ass,” Maryse said, even though no one was around to hear. She had no idea what kind of game Luc LeJeune was playing, but it was about to come to an end.