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“It has been a ride, hasn’t it? Unbelievable. I keep pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“Well, if you’re dreaming, we’re all in the same dream,” Ken laughed. “But I’ve got a question…I asked the other night but didn’t get an answer. How are we going to keep up the momentum?”

Jace pushed his hat back and smiled at him. “That’s something I want to talk to you about, my friend.”

Everyone at the table laughed. “Be careful. When he calls you ‘my friend’ in that tone of voice, you’re in trouble.”

Jace explained his idea of hiring Ken to be his scout for entertainment, since he knew everyone in six counties.

Ken looked serious and told him he would consider it. “It might even allow me to talk to other good lookin’ women since Maggie won’t give me the time of day,” he declared as he winked at her.

She just shook her head. “I need to talk to you for a minute, Jace, when you’re done with your conversation.”

“That sounds serious. You better go.”

Jace walked to the bar and looked questioningly at her. “Does this have to do with Larry and his availability to work?”

“He’s fine. Had a touch of the flu, I guess but he’ll be back this evening. That’s not what I want to talk to you about. Come to the office with me.”

“Watch out, Jace. She’s still after you.” That was followed by raucous laughter.

“So, what’s up?”

She placed the magazine on his desk and pointed to the picture. “She look familiar to you?”

He picked it up and frowned. “Camille? But she said her name was Emily. What is this?” he asked as he looked at the front cover.

“It’s a women’s magazine, Jace. For middle-aged women, precisely. She not only is the senior editor, she owns the damned thing. She wasn’t vacationing here…she was working. That work included dating younger men and writing about the experiences. I think this article is about you and I must confess, if it’s true, I am very jealous. And…I think this one describes Collier.”

***

Camille arrived at the offices she had been directed to on the third floor. She was ushered into a tastefully furnished suite, had a chair pulled out for her and was offered a beverage.

“Ms. Camille Desmond?” the man questioned.

She nodded and showed him her identification. She was surprised there were no other people in the room. Either Barbara didn’t have anything left to bequeath to someone or they didn’t care. She really didn’t care either, knowing she would inherit nothing, which was fine with her. She wanted nothing but the message she received stipulated she would need to accept Barbara’s ashes and they would not send them to her. So here she was.

“The first order of business is your mother’s ashes.” He indicated a simple walnut box.

“I don’t mean to be rude by interrupting but are you certain you have the correct container? Barbara would never lower her standards enough to have her remains placed in a wooden box, of all things.”

“I assure you this is the correct container. We are extremely judicious in our proceedings and have worked with this reputable crematorium for many years.”

/> Camille shrugged. She didn’t understand but also didn’t care.

He cleared his throat and proceeded. “Your mother specified that the box not be mailed to you but rather, that you were to come to Paris to retrieve it.”

“The next order of business this morning is the will. Since you are the only individual named in the will, there should be no contesting and we can finish this in an expedient manner.”

She tapped her foot incessantly while he droned on about the legality of certain things and then cleared his throat again.

“You have inherited the property in Montana, the stocks and bonds and a snow globe.”

She raised her hand to stop him. “Back up just a bit…a snow globe? Did you say I inherited a snow globe?”

He looked at her over the top of his spectacles. “Yes, that’s what it says. A snow globe. May I continue?”

Camille nodded and tried desperately to pay attention but her train of thought got off at the station when he said snow globe.

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