Fool Me Once(36)

“Hello, Maya.”

“Caroline.”

More exchanged cheek kisses.

“Heather is waiting for us in the library,” Caroline said. “Neil is already there.”

Judith’s expression turned grim. “Come, let’s go then.”

Judith stood between Caroline and Maya, letting them both take her by the arms. They walked in silence through the grand foyer and past the ballroom. There was a portrait of Joseph T. Burkett Sr. above the fireplace. Judith stopped and stared at him for a moment.

“Joe looked so much like his father,” Judith said.

“He did,” Maya agreed.

“Another thing we have in common,” Judith said with a hint of a smile. “Same taste in men, I suppose.”

“Yep, tall, dark, and handsome,” Maya said. “I’m not sure that makes us stand out.”

Judith liked that. “So true.”

Caroline opened the double doors, and they all entered the library. Maybe it was because Maya had just seen little girls dressing up, or maybe it was because she had recently watched Beauty and the Beast with Lily, but the library reminded Maya of the Beast’s. The room was two stories high with built-in bookshelves of dark oak from floor to ceiling. The carpets were Oriental and ornate. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. There were two rolling ladders set on cast-iron rails. A large antique globe opened to reveal a crystal decanter of cognac. Neil, Joe’s surviving brother, was already having at it.

“Hey, Maya.”

More cheek kissing, though sloppier. Everything with Neil was sloppy. He was one of those pear-shaped guys who looked sloppy no matter how meticulously tailored a suit he wore.

“Want one?”

He gestured to the decanter.

“No, thanks,” Maya said.

“You sure?”

Judith’s lips were pursed. “It’s nine in the morning, Neil.”

“But five P.M. someplace. Isn’t that what they always say?” He laughed. No one joined him. “Besides it’s not every day you get to hear the reading of your brother’s will.”

Judith looked away. Neil was the baby, the youngest of the four Burkett children. Joe was firstborn, followed a year later by Andrew, who had “died at sea”—that was how the family always put it—and then came Caroline and finally Neil. Oddly enough, it was Neil who ran the family empire now. Joseph Sr., never one for sentimentality when it came to money, had placed him in charge over his older siblings.

Joe had shrugged it off. “Neil is ruthless,” he’d told her once. “Dad always liked ruthless.”

“Maybe we should all sit,” Caroline suggested.

Maya looked at the chairs—the opulent burgundy chairs—and flashed back to her dream. For a moment, she could see Joe in that tuxedo, legs crossed, cuffs creased, looking off, unreachable.

“Where’s Heather?” Judith asked.

“I’m right here.”

They all turned to the voice in the doorway. Heather Howell had been the family attorney for the past decade. Before that, Heather’s father, Charles Howell III, worked for the Burketts. Before that, her grandfather Charles Howell II held the post.

No word on the first Charles Howell.

“Fine,” Judith said. “Let’s get this started.”

It was an odd thing with Judith, how easily she slipped from warm maternal figure to professional shrink to, as she was right now, starchy old-world matriarch complete with a British-tinged accent.

They began to take their seats, but Heather Howell stayed standing. Judith looked back at her. “Is there a problem?”

“I’m afraid there is.”

Heather was one of those attorneys who exude confidence and competence. You wanted her on your side. The first time Maya had met Heather Howell had been immediately after Joe’s marriage proposal. Heather had called her into this very room and slapped down a prenup agreement. In a no-nonsense yet not unfriendly tone, she had told Maya, “Signing this document is nonnegotiable.”

Now, for the first time, Heather Howell looked a little lost or at least out of her comfort zone.

“Heather?” Judith said.

Heather Howell turned to her.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m afraid we will have to postpone the reading of the Last Will and Testament.”

Judith looked at Caroline. Nothing. She looked at Maya. Maya just stood there. Judith turned back to Heather. “Do you care to explain why?”

“There are certain protocols we have to follow.”

“What kind of protocols?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, Judith.”

Judith did not like that reply. “Do I look like I’m in the mood to be patronized?”

“No, you don’t.”

“So why can’t we read Joe’s will?”

“It isn’t that we can’t read it,” Heather said, weighing each word before allowing it to leave her mouth.

“But?”

“But there has been a delay.”

“And again I ask: Why?”

“It’s paperwork really,” Heather said.

“What do you mean?”

“We, uh, we don’t have an official death certificate.”