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“No, there’s more,” Jackson said. “Now that Chet is gone, I can tell you about the terms of his will. It’s pretty simple, really: he had a fifty-thousand-dollar insurance policy, which increased to a hundred thousand in the event of being killed in the line of duty, which he was. He instructed that his debts be paid and that the remaining cash in his accounts, along with the insurance, should be divided between Hank Doherty and Jane Grey. He left his house and his personal possessions to Hank. Hank, of course, predeceased him, and in that event, Ham, Hank’s share of the estate goes to you.”

“To me?” Ham asked incredulously.

“He didn’t have anybody else, just you and Hank. It’s what he wanted.”

“I think that’s wonderful,” Holly said. “That will make your retirement more comfortable.” She turned to Jackson. “What did he have in the way of debt?”

“He had mortgage insurance, which pays off that balance, so the house is free and clear, except for a home improvement loan of about ten thousand dollars. Apart from that, there’s a few thousand in credit card debt and his monthly bills to close out, and that’s it. On the asset side, he had some money in mutual funds—thirty or forty thousand, I think.”

“I don’t believe it,” Ham said.

“Well,” Holly replied, “your housing problem is solved.”

“I don’t see why you can’t move into the house today, Ham,” Jackson said. “It’s very nicely furnished. All you’ll need is some groceries. There’s a small boat, too, tied up at Chet’s dock. And if you decide you don’t want to live in the house, there’s a ready buyer waiting in the wings.”

“It’s a nice place, Ham,” Holly said. “You’ll like it.”

“I expect I will,” Ham said sadly.

CHAPTER

29

H olly and Jackson led the way, followed by Ham and Daisy in Ham’s truck. She thought the place very pretty in the afternoon light; the property was nicely planted, something she hadn’t noticed in the dark. Everybody got out and walked around the house with Ham. The boat was there, tied to the little dock. It was a seventeen-foot Boston Whaler with a forty-horsepower outboard engine, ideal for skimming up and down the quiet waters of the Indian River. Jackson unlocked the house and they went inside.

“Hey, this is nice,” Ham said. “Chet made himself real comfortable.” He walked over and looked at the guns and the fishing rods in their racks. “Nice gear, too.”

“There’s only one bedroom,” Holly said. “Over there.” She pointed.

Ham walked through the place. “It’s just wonderful,” he said, and his voice cracked.

“Jackson,” Holly said, “why don’t you and I start getting Ham’s stuff off his truck?” They went outside, leaving

Ham alone. “I’m so glad Chet did this,” she said. “Ham’s in there crying right now, and I haven’t seen him do that since Mom died.”

“Let’s unload all this stuff from the truck,” Jackson said, “and give him a minute.” He got up onto the pickup, folded back the tarp and started handing Holly boxes. A few minutes later, Ham came out, seemingly recovered, and helped them carry things in. They began emptying boxes.

Holly went to the chest of drawers in the bedroom and started packing Chet’s things into some of the empty boxes. That done, she began helping with the other things. When she came to Ham’s shotgun, she unzipped the sheepskin case and set the weapon in an empty slot in Chet’s gun rack. While doing that, something caught her eye. There were three pistols in the rack: an army .45 automatic, a .38 police special and a smaller revolver. It was the smaller gun that got her attention: there was a trace of talcum powder clinging to it.

She went into the kitchen and came back with a pair of dishwashing gloves and a zippered plastic bag. She put on the gloves and gingerly lifted the revolver off the rack by its trigger guard. It was a Colt .32.

“What have you got there?” Jackson asked.

“Jackson, do you remember this pistol being here last night when we were searching the place?”

“I didn’t pay much attention to the guns,” he said.

“Neither did I, and I searched the rack for a piece of paper tucked away.”

“Why does the pistol interest you?”

“Because I think it belongs to your client, Sammy.”

Jackson looked closely at the weapon. “So when they searched the house, they not only took something, they left something.”

“Looks that way.”

“What a weird thing to do.”

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