AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He stormed down the stairs, anger oozing from every pore. This was the man Hunter had depended on for help in the investigation into Smith’s shady business practices? The Ranger was a drug addict and an alcoholic. He wasn’t even sure he could trust any information Steele came up with.
At least Hunter was out of jail and into his custody. Jesse’s biggest problem would be keeping his nephew busy enough that he didn’t attempt to see Emily, or try any investigation on his own. Obviously no one was going to talk to the accused murderer about the victim.
I have to depend on a drug addict to find and interview potential witnesses? Wonderful.
Jesse had just finished up a sandwich and cup of coffee when Jeremy arrived. He’d cleaned himself up all right, but his eyes were still bloodshot and he seemed confused when he entered the café. After a minute he spotted Jesse waving at him and made his way to the table.
“Sorry about that.”
Unsure exactly what Jeremy was referring to, Jesse just shrugged and pointed to the chair across from him. “You want something to eat?”
“No. Just some coffee.” He looked around until he caught the eye of a waitress and waved her over. “Coffee. Black.”
The man looked as though he could use a good meal, but Jesse wasn’t about to start babysitting their investigator.
Once Jeremy’s coffee arrived and Jesse’s cup refilled, he leaned on his forearms and regarded the man. “I have no idea how fond you are of your drugs, but if you’re going to continue to work for me and Hunter, you need to straighten yourself out.”
Steele didn’t reply, but watched him carefully over the rim of his coffee cup.
“I’d like to see what you have so far on Smith’s business practices. Hunter swears you’re top in your field, and I trust him. I will tell you, however, that I don’t trust you. Or anyone who’s controlled by a drug.”
“I’m in control, not the drug.”
“Yes. I’ve heard that before.” He took a sip of coffee. “In any event I’ll continue with your assistance as long as you’re coming up with results.” Jesse nodded to the file Jeremy had placed on the table. “That your notes?”
Jeremy pulled out the pages of notes, and they discussed them for over an hour. A little more satisfied with the job the Ranger was doing, Jesse left with instructions for Jeremy to dig deeper. With the shenanigans the deceased had been pulling, there had to be others who would have wanted the man dead.
Emily fidgeted in her chair as Louis’s attorney, Mr. DeMarco, polished his spectacles, then settled them on his nose. He fiddled with the papers in front of him, and then adjusting his eyeglasses one more time, smiled up at her and Mr. Sanders.
They’d returned from the funeral hours ago, along with twenty or so friends and business associates. Emily’s nerves had been stretched to the limit as time after time her hand was gripped and condolences offered.
Whiskey and coffee was served, platters of sandwiches, and plates of cakes. Knowing she had the will reading to still go through, she’d thought the crowd would never leave.
Mr. DeMarco’s words pulled her back to the library and the task she now faced. “I am ready to read the Last Will and Testament of the late Mr. Louis Smith.” He paused as if expecting trumpets from on high to echo in the room.
Emily held back a snort. She would expect more like the gnashing of teeth from the bowels of hell.
Mr. Sanders was in a worse state than she was. He continued to mop his forehead with a handkerchief, and looked as if he wanted to clear his stomach of his breakfast. Her fear returned of being penniless once more. Hopefully, there was still a goodly portion of her inheritance left.
The lawyer cleared his throat and began to read. “I, Louis Smith, being of sound mind and body do hereby . . .”
Fifteen minutes later it was over. Sanders leapt up and pumped the lawyer’s hand, his previous anxiety gone. He smiled broadly at her and left the room.
Louis had left him his half of the business.
Emily was too numb to speak. Everything she owned was gone. Except the clothes on her back. Since the house had been bequeathed to a woman she had never heard of, she wasn’t even sure if the clothing in her closet belonged to her. Certainly not her grandmama’s lovely, delicate pink and blue china tea set. No, that was gone, too. Along with the paintings on the walls that came from her parents. The specially-made furniture in her sitting room. Gone. All of it gone.
“. . . the mansion at 3642 Broadway, Galveston, Texas is hereby bequeathed to Miss Constanza D’Lia of Galveston, Texas with all its contents and furniture.”
She shook her head, realizing Mr. DeMarco was speaking to her. “Mrs. Smith?”
“Yes?”
“I want you to know I strongly advised your late husband not to do this. But he assured me that you had an inheritance from your parents and were quite well set, so you had no need of his money.”
She wanted to scream and cry and rip out her hair. Yes, she had an inheritance, but if any of it was left, it had just gone to this Miss D’Lia, along with everything else.
Oh God. How would she survive?
