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Before I left, I briefly considered whether I should bypass the override on the main residence’s alarm I’d set when I arrived, then thought better of it. If Press knew I was here, he might try to talk me into returning to Napa, something I could not bring myself to do. It had shattered me when I was there for my mother’s burial. I’d only been able to remain for as long as necessary before telling my father I had to leave. While he understood, Press had not—something I could not care less about.
As far as he was concerned, his house was as vacant as it always was when he wasn’t in residence and fully armed against intruders. Technology, and the ability to render it useless, was a wonderful thing.
“Wouldyou like to look at what you’ve received before or after breakfast?” I asked when Sam opened her door and glared at me.
“Stop hanging up on me. When the call ends, say goodbye. And don’t do it just so you can get the last word.” She turned her back to me and stalked over to the bar where, I now realized, I’d left my wine glass last night.
I followed. “Apologies,” I muttered, picking it up to wash it.
Sam pulled a thick document from an envelope that sat on the counter. Looking up from the glass I was drying, I noticed the first page appeared to be a letter from a law office.
“May I?” I asked, wiping my hands on the same cloth I’d used for the glass—a habit of mine Sam detested. Rather than apologize again, I lay the towel on the counter when she set the document in front of me.
I skimmed the first page, then detached it and read the opposite side. “This says you’ve inherited property.”
She nodded.
“In New York, of all places. Who is this woman?” I ran my finger down the page to locate the name. “Cena Covert?”
“I have no idea.”
My eyes scrunched. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never heard of her.”
“Do you have family in New York?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Are you certain?”
Sam put her hands on her hips. “Yes, I’m certain.”
“There must be some connection. This says, ‘I bequeath Samantha Marquez, who resides at—’”
“I know my address, Beau. Get to the next part.” Sam walked over and picked up her cat. There was a certain way she held the animal when she was worried. I wondered if she even realized. She motioned for me to keep reading.
“Right. It goes on to say, ‘The property at 22 Ostrander Road, East Aurora, New York, including all land, residences, outbuildings, and commercial enterprises it entails.’”
In the next paragraph, the document stated the woman Sam said she didn’t know had also left her personal effects, a bank account containing over five hundred grand, and an investment portfolio.
“Wait. There’s more,” I said, reading the second page. “This also says there’s a winery and vineyards on the estate.”
Sam nodded. “It’s got to be a scam, right? Like, I’m being punked right now?”
“Possibly,” I muttered, leafing through the rest of the document. “Quite an elaborate ruse, though.”
“It can’t be real.”
I raised both brows. “It appears it is. One other thing. It’s left in trust to you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Typically, it’s done so no one can challenge the will.”
“Who would do something like this?”
I walked over to her, grabbed Wanda, and set her on the floor, then pulled Sam into an embrace. “From what I’ve read, this makes you a relatively wealthy young woman, Samantha.”
