Wrong answer. He clearly didn't wish to clarify his vision of a future, though billion meant he could afford whatever happened to him. She picked up her toast and walked toward the garage to get in the car. "Is it empty now?"
His booted steps sounded behind her. "Absolutely not. The interest alone keeps building the stockpile."
She squared her shoulders and turned around to glare at him. Then she saw how he slumped, and her heart softened. Today he had enough on his shoulders without her adding to it. "Then it doesn't matter what is in the will."
"It matters to me."
She almost ripped open the car door and listened to the exterior house door slam as John closed and locked it before getting into the driver's seat. "Why?"
He started the car, but his body was stiff. He swallowed, refused to look at her, and backed out of the garage to the driveway. "Today we go to my brother's house. It used to be mine, too."
The will reading might be a reason for the no last night—if it weighed on his mind. She uncurled her fists, realizing she was tense, and tried to relax. She stared out the window and reminded herself that she was not Cinderella. She had her own issues to deal with, like finding a new buyer for her farm goods, and calling her brother to talk about mom.
He turned onto the highway toward Star Island. "The home where you grew up has already transformed in your mind."
His grip on the car wheel tightened. They were heading to Peter's house unusually fast for Miami, but they'd missed rush hour. "Yeah. I wouldn't call the place a home. Most days it felt like a prison."
"Most people's prisons aren't nearly so nice, and Vicki is there now. There is a reason to be happy." Alice had so many questions for her old best friend, but John's hardness right now took up all of her emotional room. She tugged her dress to her knees. "You haven't even talked to Peter yet today, and you already have that guard up. If you walk in this way, you're liable to snap."
He turned off the highway. They were close to the mansion now. Silence filled the air until he parked in front of the house that looked the same. John said, "I don't trust him."
Happy times. She had to help him stay positive. "Okay. Then who cares what you get in the will, then? Peter is the only one left."
He removed his sunglasses and tossed them on the dashboard, turning to her with his blue eyes that sparkled with righteousness. "I don't care."
"Why are you here?"
He gulped and some of the tension left his body. "Curiosity. I'd lay odds that Dad left me nothing but a note of contempt."
She shook her head. "He wouldn't."
His brow wrinkled. "How can you be sure?"
He should know his father better than her. Mitch Morgan's reputation was well known. "He wanted to be remembered as a god amongst men. I can't imagine he'd cut you out of the will. What if somebody found out?"
The last time he spoke to his father, he had accused him of murdering his sister. His father's lie included a funeral and with that track record, anything was possible in the will reading today. He sat in his seat, like her words were bullets. "I don't want to think about it."
"Let it go. We should go inside." She opened her car door. A second later he did the same and stood up. He slammed his car door. As he walked over to her, she asked, "Where do you see your sister living, once this is over?"
She accepted his offered hand, receiving strength that empowered her to do almost anything. He didn't answer her question until they'd reached the door. "Not here."
He pressed the doorbell. She fixed her dress as the walls made her feel inferior and forbidden from the entrance. "Any ideas why Vicki wanted me here?"
He turned toward her. Their gazes met. "You'll have to ask her. Please remember every word she says to you about why she pretended to be dead."
Footsteps echoed from right outside the door. She lowered her voice, "Do you want me to spy on her?"
He answered fast. "No. I want to compare notes. If something happened to her, then I want to help her if I can."
A Hispanic older woman answered the door. Alice felt a chill as they walked inside. She kept his hand in hers. "Okay. I'm not going to worry about it, but I'm hoping Jennifer isn't there."
John's hand brushed against her shoulder. "Don't let the actress get to you."
She stared at his broad chest and let his words float into her heart. He was right. "I know I shouldn't."
"I saw you handle your mother. You can handle Jennifer."
She smiled. Other than the constant teasing and lying to her mother, John Morgan tried to take care of her and watch out for her. Perhaps once this was over, she'd get answers to her own questions. "After everything goes down here, can we relax and go out to dinner? I want to go to your favorite place growing up."
Laughter echoed from upstairs. Victoria was close. John gazed up the flight of stairs, but then returned his focus on her. He lowered his voice. "That's dangerous."
The tension in the car had been palatable and Alice hoped that with the right atmosphere, he'd relax and laugh again. John had to be wrong about being a target as the FBI never called. Soon she'd end this farce, but for now, she shrugged her shoulders. "You'll protect me."
High heels clicked on the stairs above them. "Anywhere I want to go?"
Vicki's bare legs in her floral sundress came into view. Alice placed her hand on his arm. "I want to see the world you grew up in and your favorite hang outs. So take me someplace that the House of Morgan frequented without me, Vicki's tag-along."
John smiled up at Vicki and then frowned as Peter, in his usual power suit, followed right behind their sister down the flight of stairs. He scooted closer to Alice. "Vicki never said that."
Alice squeezed his hand. "Your dad did."
Peter ushered Vicki and John down the hall, but John kept Alice's hand firm in his as she shied back. "Stay with me."
Peter walked ahead of them and into the lofted ceiling dining room. Alice whispered, "You are capable of handling your brother by yourself, but I'm here if you need me."
John's shoulders were tense, as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Standing at the end of the table, Peter beckoned them into the room. "Please sit."
Alice turned around to greet her friend. Vicki had been right behind them. She raised her hand to her chin and asked, "Where is Victoria?"
Peter sat in their father's chair, and opened a file like he was about to run a business meeting. Then he arranged his seat to ensure it was more like a throne and acted like their father. "She's coming."
John followed his brother's gestures, crossed his legs like he was the challenger in a boxing room, and took a seat beside him.
Two lawyers in black suits and carrying brief cases walked into the room from the kitchen door and sat opposite them. Peter's reflection shone in the polished wood and even his posture mimicked their father as he stretched in his chair. John raised his eyebrows and asked, "Why is this so formal?"
Peter refused to answer the question. Instead his gaze met Alice's as she sat beside John. Peter then asked, "Are you sure you wish Ms. Collins to be with you right now?"