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Meanwhile, Thompson, aka Taylor, was waiting in his hotel room to get the call. Hours went by. Nothing. He called the messenger service, and the person who answered confirmed that the letter had been hand-delivered to Ms. Petrov.What was taking her so long?He knew he would get a major tongue-lashing from Arthur if he didn’t have any information soon. He was certain that Arthur was wearing out the carpet in his office, huffing and puffing.
During her break, Colette looked into her tote bag to get the letter and make the call. She dug around and couldn’t find it. Then she dumped the contents onto her desk. No letter. Then she remembered that she had left it stuck to the visor of her car. It would take too long to go to her car, so she decided to phone the law office instead. Perhaps they could give her Mr. Taylor’s cell-phone number. She still had the main number in her contact list. Things had been hectic since Mr. Randolph’s passing and her swift dismissal. Then there was the packing. Through the transition, it hadn’t occurred to her to delete phone numbers she no longer had any reason to use. At that moment, she was grateful.
She pressed the green “call” dot on her phone. As the phone rang on the other end, she thought about how upset she was that Arthur and Rowena hadn’t had a proper funeral for Randolph. They were going to plan a memorial sometime in the future. It was obvious to Colette she was not going to be invited, and knowing Rowena, the memorial service would be by invitation only.
She snapped out of her reverie when the receptionist answered. “Dunbar, Wilson and Chase. How may I direct your call?”
“Hello. This is Colette Petrov.”
“Hello, Colette. How are you?” The receptionist remembered that Colette had worked for Randolph Millstone for three years and phoned often to speak to Clive.
“I’m very well, thank you. May I speak to Jacob Taylor?”
“I’m sorry. Who did you ask for?” the receptionist queried.
“Jacob Taylor?” Colette hesitated.
“There’s no Jacob Taylor here, Colette. Are you sure you have the right number?”
“I’m sure. The card said Dunbar, Wilson and Chase, but I left it in my car, and I still had your office number in my contact list. What about Mr. Dunbar? Is he available?”
“No, I’m sorry, he’s away on business; and then he’s going to take a short vacation. Can I take a message for you?”
Colette gave the phone an odd look.No Jacob Taylor?“No, that’s all right. I’ll try again next week. Thank you. Bye.”
“Bye, Colette.”
Colette had a bad feeling about this. Yesterday, someone had said they found her employee badge which wasn’t missing, and now a letter from someone who doesn’t exist. Her fight-or-flight instinct was firing off signals. Again. The first time was when she had been dismissed from her position with Millstone Enterprises. Arthur and Rowena had made it abundantly clear that Colette should disappear as soon as possible.
Now she was wondering if it was time to disappear again.
Chapter Thirteen
Boston, Massachusetts
Millstone Manor
If someone had taken Arthur’s blood pressure at that moment, they would have called the paramedics. He was shrieking at the top of his lungs. “What do you mean you haven’t made contact?” He snapped his fingers at Rowena to pour him another scotch.
Rowena stretched her long legs and sashayed to the console where Arthur kept his single-malt scotches, bourbons, and cognac. He held up three fingers indicating how much liquor to pour. The equivalent of three fingers wrapped around the glass. Rowena laughed to herself.If he means his, I’ll have to use four of mine.
Arthur could barely control his rage. “You are supposed to find out if she signed it, does she know what was in it, and where it might be! It shouldn’t be this hard! You had better speak to her in person by tomorrow, or I’ll be on my way out there and you’ll be on your way out. Do I make myself clear?”
Rowena handed him the tumbler of scotch. Maybe that would calm him down. Rowena couldn’t understand why Arthur was so exasperated of late. Yes, several months before Randolph died, he had told Arthur to “start making other plans.” What Randolph meant was that they were going to have to move out of the mansion into a place of their own, for one. The other, Rowena suspected, was that Arthur might find himself no longer a part of Millstone Enterprises. If Randolph decided to cut Arthur out of his will, or at least to leave him something much smaller than the family fortune, something both she and Arthur feared he might do, Arthur would be left up the proverbial creek without a paddle.
Rowena knew that Randolph had been aware of Arthur’s past gambling problems and that they were possibly becoming a problem once more. Perhaps Randolph had been planning to put Arthur on a tight leash. Rowena figured that Arthur was probably seriously in debt. Just how seriously was the question. Judging from how Arthur was behaving, he probably owed a staggering amount, requiring that he inherit more than a token amount if he were to avoid serious repercussions. One thing she knew for certain, the people Arthur was dealing with were not nice people.
On more than one occasion, Rowena walked into Arthur’s study as he was writing out checks to himself. One evening, before he got home from the office, she went through the drawers of his desk and found the checkbook. Rowena was surprised he hadn’t locked it away. Perhaps he thought no one would be rummaging around in his desk or he had simply forgotten to lock it. Lately, he had been hitting the booze in large quantities, so it wasn’t totally surprising that he might have forgotten. But there it was for her to get a good peek. It appeared he was siphoning off money in dribs and drabs. Checks for a few thousand dollars every other week or so. Nothing that would set off any alarms. Heck, a few thousand dollars would just about cover one day of Rowena’s purchases. But now things seemed to be escalating to disturbing heights.
Rowena watched Arthur guzzle the scotch. That’s when she started putting it together. She figured Arthur had gotten deep into debt and that Randolph had found out. Randolph had bailed him out once. But he had warned him that it was the first, last, and only time it would happen. For a while it appeared that Arthur had kicked his habit, but Rowena was sure that appearances were deceptive, especially after she got a glimpse of the checkbook.
No one else realized that he had gone back to gambling. It seems that after placing a few small bets, he started winning. The more he won, the more he gambled, until he started to lose. Then the more he lost, the more he gambled. She couldn’t comprehend how much he might owe, but his behavior screameda lot.
Arthur slammed down the phone again. “I don’t know what I pay him for.”
“He was supposed to confirm where she lived.” Rowena almost felt sorry for Thompson. Almost.
“Well, now he needs to confirm whether or not she signed the will.”
