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“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to take the box over to Mr. Fortnum and see what he has to say.”

“I think that’s a good move.”

“Good luck finding a gift.”

“Thank you. Good luck with Mr. Fortnum.”

As soon as I get off the phone with Trenda, I call Dex. It goes to voicemail. I don’t have Lydia’s number, and Clint is part of Mason’s team and they’re out of the country. Gray should have it.

“Hi, Simon. Am I going to see you at the wedding?”

“Absolutely. Hey, I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I need to talk to Lydia Archer; do you know how to get to her? I can’t get ahold of Dex.”

“Dex is on the obstacle course right now. I don’t know Lydia’s number, but I can pull Dex off the course and call you back.”

“That would be great.”

Now I have to put on some music that will truly soothe me, so I put on the Foo Fighters and wait for Dex’s call. It comes through in twenty minutes.

“Hey Simon, you called?”

“Yeah. Got a call from Trenda. She got a letter from Horace Grant. It says that if Harris Development loses this lawsuit, that the claimants could end up bankrupting Harris Development and go after the heirs for their money. Sounds like Junior has a motive now for wanting as much money as possible.

“Whoa there, Simon. Remember, even if it’s divided into thirds instead of quarters, he would still lose it if they go after their inheritance money,” Dex says.

“Yeah but, if they end up not losing everything, he has a cushion with Bella’s portion.”

“You’re right. I’ll update the Nashville police.”

“How’s the ring hunt going?”

“Terrible.”

“Don’t forget to pick-up a gift for Nic and Cami.”

“I keep forgetting that. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“This is a lot of information, Trenda. It seems like the claimants have a good case that their houses are being contaminated with ammonia and methane gas buildup. This would account for the health problems they’re experiencing. The fact that Harris Development built on this land could go one of two ways. Were they unaware, and therefore they’re not liable, or were they aware of the potential problems and they built anyway?”

I sit down hard in one of the chairs in front of Mr. Fortnum’s desk.

“He knew. Brantley knew.”

“My dear, can you explain yourself?”

“When I was living with Brantley, somebody delivered a file to him, but he wasn’t home. It was a thick file, and when I went to put it on his desk, some of the papers spilled out. One was something that was a gas probe test with big bold letters, not suitable for build, written on it. I can’t remember the other one but it had the word shallow in it. It had big red letters that said fail.”

“So your boyfriend knew about this problem ahead of time. That puts a whole new light on this case. But now we just have your word on this.”

I thought back to the guy who gave me the files. He was icky, actually he made me feel icky. “Mr. Fortnum, a man came to the door and gave them to me to give to Brantley. I remember he was rude.”