Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(31)

Helena sat back in her seat. “Have you read the instructions for the land inheritance yet?”

Maryse stared at Helena as if she’d lost her mind. “Are you kidding me? I just got it yesterday. Do you really think even if I had absolutely nothing else to do at all that I would rush home, break open a bottle of bubbly, and read the Encyclopedia Inherita? Jeez, Helena, I appreciate you leaving me the land and all, more than you’ll ever know, but it’s not the only thing I have going on.”

Helena pursed her lips and stared silently at the dashboard. “I know you’ve had a lot thrown at you here lately, and you’re not going to want to hear this, but I think it’s really important that you understand all the rules. It’s been so long since I’ve gone over them, but I keep thinking there’s something I ought to remember.”

“And that’s why I’m on my way to meet with Wheeler. He should know everything about your inheritance, right?”

Helena shook her head, deep in thought. “Maybe. I hope so.”

Maryse pulled in front of the café and parked the car. “Well, he better, because I bet that book is longer than the Bible and just as hard to interpret. I’m not trying to slack off on my responsibilities, Helena. I want to make sure I maintain control of the preserve, but there’s no way I can finish something like that and even hope to understand it without some serious time and probably a translator.”

Helena sighed. “You’re probably right. That document is as old as the land and so is the language it was written in.”

“Finally, we agree,” Maryse said and hopped out of the car. “I’ll get the basics from Wheeler and fill in the blanks as time and brainpower allow.” She pushed the car door shut and walked a good five steps down the sidewalk when she heard Helena yelling.

“Damn it, Maryse,” the ghost shouted from inside the car. “You know I can’t open the door. I could suffocate in here.”

Maryse walked back to the car and opened the passenger door to allow the angry specter out. She wasn’t even in the mood to argue the suffocation comment and that whole “you’re already dead” thing. She shook her head as Helena climbed out of the car. “You have got to learn how to walk through walls, Helena. I am not going to squire a ghost around town. Do you have any idea how weird this would look if someone was watching?”

“About as weird as you talking to a car door,” Helena shot back, then huffed up the sidewalk to stand next to the café door.

Maryse steeled herself for her appointment, now complete with a ghost, and let them both into the café.

Wheeler was already there, perched in a booth in the corner and looking as out of place as a Coors Light distributor at a Southern Baptist convention. Maryse crossed the café, signaling to the waitress for a cup of coffee, and took a seat across from Wheeler, intentionally sitting too close to the edge to allow Helena to sit next to her. Helena glared, then took a seat next to Wheeler, who shivered for a moment, then looked across the café.

“Must be a draft in here,” Wheeler said.

“Probably,” Maryse agreed as the waitress slid a cup of steaming coffee in front of her for the second time that day. “I’m not trying to rush you or anything, Mr. Wheeler, and I really appreciate you coming all the way down here to talk to me, but if you don’t mind, could we go ahead and get started? I have a very busy day and not enough daylight to get everything done.”

Wheeler nodded. “Absolutely. This shouldn’t take too much time. The basics for the land ownership are very straightforward.”

“Really? Then why the enormous book?”

“The book is as old as dirt and written in circles. Plus, there are a lot of rules that simply don’t apply anymore. Things to do with rice farming and possible exceptions for owning herds of cattle. Things you would never consider in the first place.”

“Okay. Then give me the skinny.”

Wheeler looked at her for a moment, probably not having a clue what “the skinny” was exactly, but finally decided she must mean the rules. “Well, the first item is one I covered briefly yesterday—you can’t leave Mudbug for a period of one week, starting yesterday. If you take even a step outside the city limits and anyone has proof, the land will revert to the secondary heir.”

“And who is that?”

“Hank. There is really no other option.”

Maryse nodded, not really surprised. “And why this rule at all? I have to tell you, Wheeler, it sounds kinda weird.”

Wheeler cleared his throat. “I agree that it probably sounds a little strange in this day and age, but back when the rules were written, health care wasn’t what it is today and the country was at war. If a son inherited the land and was called off to war before he could decide on an heir and draw up the paperwork, his death might leave the estate in limbo indefinitely. And the state wasn’t exactly diligent in ensuring the proper family maintained their estates. A lot of property was simply stolen by the state or passed on to political supporters.”

“I see. So the one-week period is supposed to give me time to select an heir and have the paperwork drawn up so that the land can’t hang in limbo with the state deciding how to settle it.”

“Exactly. Selecting an heir is one of the first things I need you to address. Since you don’t have children, you’re not limited by the trust in any way as to who you chose, except that it has to be an individual and not a corporation.” Wheeler paused for a moment. “You know, now that I think about it, you’re the first person outside of the bloodline to inherit the land. Amazing it was held that way for so long.”