Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(32)

“That is rather odd,” Maryse agreed. “Why hasn’t anyone sold it before now? Surely there have been offers, and I’m willing to bet that in a hundred years someone needed the money, even if Helena didn’t.”

“The land is held by the trust, not really the individual. The person who inherits gets limited control of the land and is the beneficiary of any income received off the land.”

“And the trust doesn’t allow for the sale of the land.” Maryse felt the light bulb come on. “So then why would it matter who inherited at all?”

“Well, the original trust documents were prepared long before anyone considered the possibility that companies and individuals might enter into long-term leases, essentially giving the same benefits to the lessee as buying. Helena felt you wouldn’t entertain those sort of offers, so she selected you.”

“Lucky me,” Maryse said, and smiled. “So you need me to select an heir, and it can be anyone I want, unless I have kids at some point and then things have to change. Is that the gist of it?”

“That’s correct. If you have no objection, I’ll be happy to draw up that paperwork for you as soon as you give me a name.”

Maryse pulled a pen from her pocket and proceeded to write Sabine’s name on a napkin. She pushed the napkin across the table to Wheeler. “I know it’s not very official, but I figure you just need the name, right?”

Wheeler folded the napkin and placed it in his suit pocket. “That will do. I’ll draw the papers up and make sure to get them signed and filed before the end of the one-week period. From that point forward, if anything were to happen to you, the land will be safe and secure in the hands you’ve selected.”

Maryse straightened in her seat and stared at Wheeler. “From that point forward?” She narrowed her eyes. “So God forbid, something happens to me in the next week, what happens to the land?”

“It passes to the next heir—Hank.”

“That’s it,” Helena shouted and jumped up from her booth. “That’s the part I couldn’t remember that I thought was important.”

Maryse stared at Wheeler in dismay. “You’re telling me I have to outlive Helena by a week or the land goes to Hank, no questions asked?”

Wheeler nodded.

“Unbelievable. And it never occurred to anyone that this rule might leave the first to inherit with a much shorter life span than originally intended?”

Wheeler shook his head. “I don’t think they were thinking in those terms. It was simply a different world back then. And while I understand your concern, I really don’t think you have a lot to worry about. Certainly, it’s possible the land could be worth a good bit of money to developers at some point, but that’s not the case at the moment. The state is the only interested party as things stand right now. Ten, twenty years down the road, things could change, especially if New Orleans continues to push its boundaries, but what you’re suggesting is an awfully big risk for a payoff that might not even happen in a person’s lifetime.”

“But you said the land was Helena’s most valuable asset.”

Wheeler nodded. “Sentimentally, it was, and as I said, long-term the land will probably be worth more than any of us can imagine.”

“I guess you’re right,” Maryse said, but one look at the pensive Helena, and Maryse wondered if there was something that Wheeler didn’t know. Something that Maryse didn’t want to know. “Is there anything else?”

Wheeler pulled some documents from a folder on the table. “I need some signatures for the paperwork for the state to ensure they make the check out to you rather than Helena, and there’s a couple other documents needing signature…mostly just legal posturing, but required nonetheless.”

Maryse pulled the stack of paperwork over toward her and spent the next fifteen minutes signing her name as Wheeler pointed out the correct spots. Finally, she passed the last document back to Wheeler, who placed them all neatly back in his folder. “Well,” Maryse said, “if that’s everything, I guess I’ll be on my way.”

Wheeler nodded and rose from the booth. As Maryse rose, he extended his hand. “Thank you for meeting me this morning, Ms. Robicheaux. I’ll call as soon as I have those papers ready for your signature. I can meet you here again if that’s convenient.”

“That’s fine,” Maryse said, and shook Wheeler’s hand. “Just let me know.” She turned from the booth and left the cafe, Helena trailing behind her. Maryse loitered a bit on the sidewalk, waiting for Wheeler to leave. She needed to talk to Helena and wasn’t about to give the ghost a ride again. Hanging out with Helena all day simply wasn’t on her list of things to do. Finally, Wheeler made it to his ancient Cadillac and pulled away.

Maryse glanced inside the café to make sure no one was looking and turned her back to the huge picture glass. “Okay, Helena, spill it,” she said. “You’ve got this pained look on your face, and I have the bad feeling that you’re about to say something else I’m not going to like.”

Helena lowered her eyes and shuffled her feet. “I’m just concerned about the one-week clause. That’s all.”

Maryse stared at her. “Why? You heard Wheeler. It’d be too risky for Hank or Harold to try anything when the land isn’t really worth much right now.”