The Final Victim(27)

Why?

Who the heck knows?

She just can't seem to help herself. Lately, whenever she's talking to her mother, she opens her mouth and harsh, spiteful things fall out of it To her surprise, her mother doesn't have an angry retort. This time, anyway.

"I know Oakgate isn't home, Lianna," Mom says, sounding almost sympathetic. "It really won't be much longer till we come back to Savannah. I promise."

Lianna is tempted to point out that the new house in Savannah isn't home, either. Not to her. No place feels like home to her anymore.

Poor, poor child of divorce, she tells herself-mockingly, yet the words sting.

Struck by a sudden, fierce longing for her father, she wishes she had told Mom earlier that before he left the funeral reception last week, he promised to visit next weekend… and that Lianna wants to stay with him while he's here. He always stays at the same place: the Shark's Tooth Inn on the southernmost tip of the island.

She figures he won't mind having her stay there, too. Especially since that will mean he won't have to keep dealing with Mom and her rules.

Now isn't the time for Lianna to bring it up to her mother, but she will, first chance she gets.

Right, and Mom will have that tight-lipped expression she gets every time Lianna brings up her dad.

Why does Mom hate him so much? Why can't she see that her nasty attitude keeps her ex-husband away, not just from her-which is how she wants it-but from his daughter as well?

It isn't fair.

I need him. He's my dad.

Lianna turns to look out the car window at the dense, graying sky beyond the rooftops. Raindrops threaten to fall any second now, as do her own tears.

"Listen, go have fun with your friend," her mother tells her unexpectedly, and leans over to peck her on the cheek.

Lianna doesn't mean to brush away the kiss as if it was a pesky fly.

But she does. She can't help herself.

The instant hurt in Mom's expression sends Lianna scrambling for the door handle.

As luck would have it, Tyler happened to be recuperating in the hospital from a car accident when Gilbert Remington changed his will last winter. His grandnephew, Jameson, a new partner in the firm, handled it in his absence.

By the time Tyler realized what had happened, the new will was completed and signed.

At that point, it wasn't necessarily Tyler's place to question a client's decision to all but disinherit two of his three heirs. He did so anyway, in part because Gilbert was a close friend; but mostly because Gilbert was always adamant that his estate be divided equally among the remaining Remingtons, regardless of his feelings for them.

Something drastic must have happened to change his mind. Tyler couldn't deny being curious about a possible rift in Savannah's most prominent family.

So he picked up the phone and called.

He fully expected Gilbert to brush him off in his usual brusque manner, but his friend seemed oddly subdued as they exchanged initial niceties that day.

When Tyler brought up the will, he drawled, "I knew I'd be hearing from you about it, Tyler. If you didn't croak, that is."

Ah, that zinger was more like the cantankerous old SOB.

"No, I'm alive and well-for the time being, anyway, according to my doctor. And thank you for the fruit basket." A personal note, let alone a visit, would have been nicer, but Gilbert never was the warm-fuzzy type. 1 don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon," Tyler went on, "and I'm sure you don't either, Gilbert."

No reply.

"But when you do… I see that you're essentially leaving everything to-"

"Don't question me, Tyler. You didn't give me grief when I eliminated Xavy's wife after he passed away."

"No," Tyler told him, "but that was different, Gilbert."

"How?"

"This involves your own flesh and blood."

It was no secret that Gilbert wasn't particularly fond of his daughter-in-law Susan. He never did take kindly to 'Yankees," and he merely tolerated her from the moment his son brought her home.

Not that he ever had much use for his other daughter-I in-law, a fragile, petulant Southern belle who grew up on Achoco Island. He'd probably have gone to the trouble to write out Connie June as well, if she hadn't already been terminally ill at that point.

In fact, Tyler recalls that at the time he was touched I by Gilbert's concern over her health, particularly toward the end. Gilbert flew in specialists to treat her and when that failed, hired the best private hospice nurses his money could buy. He arranged for fresh flower arrangements to be delivered daily to her bedside, and ordered in bulk any foods she could manage to keep down.

As Tyler saw it then, the overly solicitous behavior was most likely in deference to Connie June's daughter.

Either that, or in his twilight years the old man was starting to soften… a suggestion he'd have taken as an accusation, not a compliment, should Tyler ever have brought it up.

Which he wouldn't.

Even if he hadn't eventually learned the real, and shocking, reason for Gilbert's solicitous behavior toward Connie June, the final change Gilbert made to his will would certainly have ultimately proven he wasn't softening with age.

Rather, it would seem to indicate the opposite. "You know it's my job as your attorney to ensure that you were of sound mind and body when you made these latest changes," Tyler told Gilbert.