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HE HAD THE NERVE TO laugh at her. Laugh!
Mr. Klein chuckled, then leaned forward in his chair and steepled his hands on the massive mahogany desk in front of him. “Abigail, you know I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about, right?”
“No. You don’t get to play the ignorance card. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she hissed. “You’re the one that made sure I got GG’s jewelry box with the letter inside. You had to have been the one to set up that meeting with the old guy. The last time I checked, people can’t make arrangements from the grave. And you’re also, conveniently, the one who can release my trust fund once I’ve complied with this little treasure hunt of secrets!”
Abby huffed; her breathing came in shallow, sharp puffs, despite her effort to calm herself down.
Mr. Klein’s expression sobered. “Okay, let’s clear some things up. First of all, I had no idea there was a letter inside the jewelry box.” When Abby opened her mouth to protest, he raised a hand to stop her. “But it doesn’t surprise me, seeing how she gave me other letters to deliver to you, and, ye
s, specifically requested I have Mr. Eeckhart meet you.”
Abby frowned at hearing the stranger’s name for the first time.
“Having said that, I know nothing about whatever secret you’re talking about. All I know is what she told me, which is that you will be tying up some loose ends for her after she passed, and there may come a point when you come to me for legal advice. She directed me to help you in any way I can, as my client. She paid me generously in advance in preparation for this.”
“And the trust fund?”
“It’s already in an account with your name on it. She said I’d know, without a doubt, when you finished.”
She glanced down at her hands and picked at the peeling blue polish on her nail, trying to brush aside the crushing wave of disappointment. GG should’ve known better. Since when was Abby motivated by money? She was determined to solve GG’s puzzle out of love—because it’s what she wanted. Well, that and her curiosity was killing her.
“Abigail, are you okay? What’s going on?” Mr. Klein asked. “You know, as my client, you can confide in me. By law, I can’t tell anyone what you disclose in this office. It would be just between us. Your grandmother paid me a hefty retainer upon her death to represent your family for any ensuing legal battles.”
Of course she did.
Wait a minute...
Abby’s hands tightened around the armrests of her chair. If Mr. Klein really did have to abide by confidentiality laws, that meant he couldn’t reveal anything her grandmother confided in him even to her, which meant it was possible he is the other person who knew about the secret. Maybe that’s why in her letter, she said the person who knew had been silenced. Because he’s bound by client-confidentiality laws?
“Did grandma ever give you anything?” Abby leaned forward in the chair, hope swelling in her chest like a seed. “I don’t know, like, any sort of documents or anything to hold on to? Maybe something she didn’t want anyone else to know?”
“Even if she did, again, by law I couldn’t tell you. I will say, we had a normal attorney-client relationship. She asked me questions on occasion and consulted me legally. She set up her will, your trust fund. The only thing out of the ordinary was the letters, and even that isn’t all that odd. I have more to give you and a timeline on which to send them. It’s not unusual for those we love to leave behind letters for us. They want to feel like they’re in some way still a part of our journey. Most of all, they worry we might not be okay and hope the letters might give their family some measure of comfort or guidance after they’re gone.”
“Can I have them now?” she asked.
“Abigail, I could lose my license. I must follow through with what I was paid to do and keep client files confidential, even if that means simply waiting until a certain date to send you something.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
He shrugged his broad shoulders, saying nothing.
Sighing, Abigail stood. She was getting nowhere fast, and she wondered if this was a part of grandma’s plan. Drive her crazy as a means to alleviate her grief. Because if Abigail was being honest, she’d barely had time to cry, much less take a deep breath since she received GG’s jewelry box. Already, only a couple days in, her mind had been on overdrive, trying to come up with a solution to an equation with far too many unknowns.
She rested her hands on the back of her chair, facing him. “Listen, I know my grandmother discovered some kind of secret about ten years ago. It’s my guess, that is exactly when she hired you. It’s the same reason she said I may come to you for legal advice.”
“Even if she did—”
“I know.” Abigail raised her hand to stop him. “You can’t tell me, but I can tell by the look on your face I’m exactly right.” Abigail began to pace the small office.
The repetition of her stride soothed her raw nerves. “Whatever she discovered has to do with those letters she gave you.” Pausing, she eyed his file cabinet. “But she said she didn’t have adequate proof. And now she’s left uncovering the truth to me. I won’t let her down. I can’t.”
Well aware her babbling sounded incoherent, she didn’t care. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears, ones she had yet to allow herself to shed. Reigning them in, she spoke over the lump in her throat. “The next letter you have, I need it. I need to get to the bottom of this.”
He sighed. “Abigail—”
“What if you happened to leave the letter out and went to the bathroom? And what if I just so happened to steal it? That wouldn’t be your fault, would it? You wouldn’t be violating anything.”
“Not if it were truly a mistake, and even then, I could be in trouble. That would be negligent.”
