*****
Thursday morning arrived with clear skies and the promise of another beautiful day.Cadie showered and dressed, then went down to breakfast.She wasn't sure how long the meeting would take, or what would be involved.Once she figured that out, she could book a return flight to New Orleans and let Genevieve know when she'd be back.After a second cup of coffee, Cadie went to her room to freshen up before leaving.
The attorney's office was in the historic district, housed in a building that looked like it had been standing since before the Civil War.Cadie arrived fifteen minutes early and sat in her car for a moment, looking at the ornate façade.Whatever happened in the next hour would determine what came after.She could sell the property immediately and return to New Orleans, or she could explore what it might mean to own a piece of her family's history.
She locked the car and walked into the building.
The receptionist was expecting her and showed her to a conference room, where she waited only a few minutes before the attorney arrived.He was in his fifties, with silver hair and a kind face that seemed well suited to delivering both good news and bad.
"Ms.Ladd, I'm Thomas Hartwell.Thank you for coming so quickly."He shook her hand and gestured for her to sit at the polished conference table.
"Of course.I was sorry to hear about my aunt."
"She was a remarkable woman.I had the privilege of knowing her for many years."Hartwell opened a folder and spread several documents on the table between them."I'll walk you through the estate, but the essential point is simple.Your aunt named you as her sole beneficiary."
Cadie tried to absorb that news.
"The primary asset is Stratton House, a historic building that has served as a music conservatory for decades.Your aunt and her late husband owned it for many years.After his death, she continued running it until her health declined.The building has been mostly closed this past year."
Hartwell slid a photograph across the table.The building was beautiful, three stories of ornate architecture that was from Charleston's antebellum period, meaning before the Civil War.The structure's tall windows suggested large interior spaces, and a brass plaque near the entrance identified Stratton House Conservatory.
"It needs restoration work," he said, "but the structure is sound.The building is historically significant and well known in Charleston's music community.Your aunt was dedicated to preserving it."
"I remember visiting," Cadie said."I walked through the building when I came for my father's funeral.There was a grand piano in the main hall."
"It's still there.Your aunt wanted very much for the conservatory to continue serving the community."Hartwell paused."Which brings me to some additional instructions she left."
Cadie looked at him."What kind of instructions?"
"In her final months, your aunt voiced some concerns to me.There was nothing specific, but she felt that something was off.She was quite insistent that upon her death, certain steps should be taken."
"I thought she died of natural causes."
"The death certificate lists heart failure, which at her age seemed natural.But your aunt's instructions were very clear.She wanted an investigator hired to look into the circumstances of her death."
Cadie stared at him."She hired a private investigator?"
"Exactly that.Since the will has been read and you're here, the investigation can proceed."
A chill ran down Cadie's spine."Did she say why she had concerns?"
"She didn't specify.She simply said she felt odd, that things did not seem quite right.She trusted her instincts and voiced her concerns.Yet she couldn't offer details, and no action was taken before her death."
"But you think the death certificate is correct, right?"
"I have no reason to think otherwise," Hartwell said."The death appeared to be heart failure in an elderly woman with a history of cardiac issues.But your aunt was adamant about this, and I am honor-bound to follow her wishes."
Cadie tried to process this information.Her aunt had felt something was wrong but could not say what.That suggested either legitimate concern or perhaps the confusion that sometimes came with advanced age.But the fact that she'd had the presence of mind to leave instructions argued against confusion.
"When will the investigator start?"
"I will let him know that the will has been read.He can begin right away."Hartwell reached across his desk for a business card."Your aunt specifically requested this particular investigator.She knew him when he was younger and trusted him."
He handed the card to Cadie.She looked down at the simple white card with black lettering:Barrett Anson, Private Investigator, with a phone number and email address.
"Barrett Anson?"Cadie said.
Hartwell looked at her with interest."You know him?"
