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“Anyone can contest a Will, but I can’t see where there’d be any grounds for it in this case. Everything is set up exactly as you instructed. Joel Morgan will be executor should anything happen to you, controlling your trust for Noah until he’s of age. If anything happens to Noah between now and said age, the funds in their entirety will be dispersed equally to your nephews and the charities specified.”
“Can you do anything about Noah’s trust yet?”
“No. He’s not of legal age, and Robert is still his legal guardian.”
“Any chance you can get Noah’s custody transferred to me before I turn twenty-five?”
“Not without revealing your whereabouts. And I have to warn you, Kendra, the fact that you took your brother across state lines before you had legal custody can be grounds for Robert to contest your guardianship.”
“I took Noah to protect him,” she argued.
“Speaking strictly as your lawyer, in the eyes of the State, you’ve kidnapped him.”
Kendra closed her eyes against that truth. Surely doing something wrong for the sake of the greater good would be considered? Tension shortened her breath, but she forced air into her lungs. No sense worrying about that now; the consequences would be faced when the time came.
Maybe Robert wouldn’t even fight her after she had access to her trust fund and legal custody of Noah. He wouldn’t have the resources for the legal battle she’d wage. Not to mention, the fact that he hadn’t reported Noah missing proved he didn’t have Noah’s best interests at heart.
If anything happened before her birthday, the letter she’d written documenting her suspicions—the sealed letter she planned to add to her Will tomorrow—would be delivered to Joel. She only prayed he would fight Robert for Noah in her place.
“Have you obtained the copy of my father’s Will yet?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject.
Michael sighed. “Like I originally explained, I’ve been working with associates in three states to create a paper maze that’s hard to trace, but, unfortunately, without formal confirmation of who’s requesting it, the lawyers in New York are fighting the release—just like we knew they would. It’s going to take more time.”
“Robert and his damn lawyers,” she muttered.
“Your father died two years ago, why do you need a copy of his Will now?”
She leaned back in her chair and wiped a hand over her face. “I overheard Robert on the phone with one of his gambling buddies, saying that he’d take care of everything after my birthday. The only thing significant about my birthday is that I gain custody of Noah and control of my trust fund. When I asked to see a copy of my father’s Will again, to see the pages missing from my original copy, the lawyers stopped returning my phone calls—on Robert’s orders, I’m sure.” She drew in a breath. “That’s when Robert…um…well, let’s just say I got the feeling he didn’t want me around, so I took Noah and we left.”
It was as close as she’d get to saying what was going on.
“And you think your brother’s actions have something to do with your father’s Will or your trust fund?”
“There’s something important in those missing pages,” she whispered. “I know it.”
“All right then, I’ll keep working on getting a copy,” Michael assured her.
“Thank you.” Kendra hung up and buried her face in her hands. Less than two weeks before her birthday. Ten more days and hopefully this whole nightmare would be over. She took a few deep breaths before pushing to her feet to head to her room. Realistically, she knew turning twenty-five wouldn’t magically make everything perfect, but once she had access to her money and the court placed Noah in her custody, Robert would have no legal leg to stand on. She’d have the law on her side and there would be nothing he could do—
Kendra’s step faltered just inside her room. Colton reclined on her bed, his boots propped on the bedspread and crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his chest.
“W-what are you doing in here?”
“Who’s Robert?”
Oh my God! How’d he find out about Robert? Her initial panic buckled under a wave of anger when she realized he must have eavesdropped on her conversation a few minutes ago. God, how had she not heard him come in? She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind but he shook his head, swung his legs off the bed and sat up. “Don’t bother with the ‘none of your business’ line.”
She crossed her arms in silent refusal to tell him a single damn thing.
He gave an unconcerned shrug. “Then it’s going to be a long night, because I’m not leaving until you answer my questions.”
Her eyes narrowed, then she stalked to the dresser, pulled out a pair of pajamas and proceeded to lock herself in the bathroom. Jerk thought he could strong arm her? Fine. She’d just go watch TV until he grew tired of his stupid interrogation tactic. She changed, washed her face, combed her hair, and stepped back into the room.
Frustration whipped through her to find him leaning against the door instead of reclining on the bed. White teeth flashed in a self-satisfied grin before his gaze took a leisurely trip down the length of her and back up. A frisson of awareness set her whole body on edge and she fought the knee-weakening sensation.
“I suggest you either get out or let me leave,” she warned in a tight voice.
He didn’t move a single muscle. Didn’t even blink. She ground her molars together in impotent frustration. What leverage did she even have to force his hand? Not a damn thing.
