Deception (Infidelity #3)(34)

“Yes, Adelaide, coffee, one cream?”

“Thank you.”





I POINTED TO the clause. It was the last amendment, the last codicil added to my father’s legal last will and testament. On the top of the typed page was a date with my father’s initials and those of Ralph Porter.

“What does this date mean?” I asked.

My shoes were now neatly stowed in the corner of the small room. The hem of my silk blouse hung loosely from my skirt. The table was completely covered in papers, including the wrappers of the sandwiches we’d ordered hours ago. The only thing missing from my long morning and afternoon was wine. And while my body craved it, my mind was happy to be alert and awake.

Stephen was just as comfortable. His jacket and tie were gone and his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. The blinds on the two windows were closed in an attempt to keep the late afternoon sun at bay. Nevertheless, the temperature of the small room had risen, despite our attempts at manipulating the thermostat.

“It’s the date this codicil was approved by your father.”

I stared as my chest tightened.

“Why?” he asked. “Is it significant?”

My head bobbed, though I couldn’t form the words. “I-it’s the day he died.”

The young man beside me sucked in a breath. “Th-that…” He stammered, “can’t be right. Maybe it’s a typo?”

“It could be right. He died during the evening, a heart attack after he fell asleep.” They say that a quick and painless death is like being kissed by an angel. I always wondered how he warranted a kiss. Maybe this codicil was it?

Stephen’s head moved side to side. “Whoa, that’s just… weird… coincidental.”

Frankly, it seemed suddenly too coincidental.

I pushed further thoughts of my father’s death from my mind. “Okay, tell me again about this amendment.”

He took a drink from the water bottle. “In effect, it qualifies the provisions in Article XII. The article that deals with the marriage…” His words softened as if he had a difficult time believing that such a thing would be mandated from the afterlife. “…of your daughter, Alexandria Charles Montague Collins, to Edward Bryce Carmichael Spencer.”

“Qualifies?”

“Basically it’s saying that any manipulation by any of the interested parties alters the provisions.”

“If someone involved in this agreement does anything to persuade the outcome—” I tried to paraphrase.

“Sorry, ma’am, it specifically states that if anyone does anything to dissuade, to interfere with the natural progression of, or to stop the planned arrangement, then that person null and voids his or her assets or any claim to said assets.”

“What about this?” I asked as I pointed.

“In the event that the marriage doesn’t go as planned, Montague Corporation will remain a viable entity; however, the current board of trustees will be dissolved, and the entire corporate structure will become a publicly traded company.”

“But the original article stated it would be sold and the proceeds would go to Fitzgerald Investments?”

“Adelaide, that’s what a codicil does, it allows people to change their minds.”

“What about the assets?”

Stephen shook his head. “If the marriage doesn’t occur, or either person marries someone else, your father’s last will and testament will enter probate again where all interested parties must make a case for their rights. Assuming that the earlier mentioned interference isn’t an issue, theoretically, the estate will be equally divided amongst the living heirs.”

“This has been present for fifteen years and it’s the first time I’m seeing it? Why is that?”

“I don’t have an answer for you. I can tell you that after the addition of the codicil and apparently your father’s death, there was an attempt to revoke the codicil, to make it null and void. The presiding judge refused to remove it.”

I didn’t need to ask who had made that attempt.

I removed my phone from my purse and turned on my camera. Page by page, I photographed Article XII as well as the codicils. When I was done, I said, “Stephen, thank you. Let me help you put this all back in the box. Would it be possible to forget to log what we saw into that catalog?”

He shook his head.

“I understand. Then could it simply say that we explored the contents of the documents with no specifics?”

His expression blossomed. “That space for content is too small to describe all that we did.”

“And who’s made aware of that catalog?” I asked.

“Only people who seek the information. It isn’t automatically given to anyone.” He shrugged. “If it were, you’d be on that list.”

That was true.

“Thank you again,” I said. “I’d be happy to buy you a drink. You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am, and after today, I’d like a drink.”

“Me too, Stephen. I feel like celebrating.”





“TELL ME WHERE you are,” Alton’s booming voice demanded.

I wasn’t born yesterday. If my GPS worked for Nox, it also worked for Alton. “Let me talk to my mother, or I’m hanging up.”