Promise Not To Tell(48)

It was an order, not a request. Wary but determined, Xavier trailed after him. Cabot closed the door, took off his windbreaker and hung it on the hook. Xavier stared, fascinated, at the holstered gun.

He’s just a kid, Cabot thought. What happened in the past was not his fault.

“Have a seat,” he said.

Xavier lowered himself into a chair. He clutched his phone in one hand as if it were a protective amulet.

Cabot sat down behind the desk.

“Why did you come to see me?” he asked, doing his level best to keep the anger out of the words. It wasn’t easy.

“Figured I’d warn you,” Xavier said.

“About?”

“Burleigh.”

“The lawyer for your grandfather’s estate?”

“He was your grandfather, too,” Xavier said quickly.

“Biologically.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened back when your mom and dad took off, but everyone says that Granddad was really pissed.”

“I’ve heard that.”

“I know your mom joined some kind of cult for a while after your dad was killed,” Xavier said. “I know Aunt Jacqueline died in a fire and that you went into the foster care system. But that’s all I knew until recently because no one ever talked much about you.”

“I gather that changed after the old man died.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what was going on for a while, but I knew it had something to do with Granddad’s estate and you. Then I heard my dad talking to that lawyer, Burleigh.”

“And you found out that I was mentioned in the will, is that it?”

Xavier gave a disdainful snort. For the first time he seemed to feel as if he was on more solid ground.

“You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?” he asked.

“Not yet, but I assume you’re about to enlighten me.”

“I’m not sure of all the details, but from what I overheard, I think Burleigh is planning to screw you out of whatever you’re supposed to inherit.”

“Burleigh’s the lawyer who is handling the estate,” Cabot pointed out. “That means he’s not a beneficiary. What would he get out of the deal?”

Xavier frowned while he processed that. Then he shrugged. “I dunno. Best guess is that Dad is paying him off to screw you.”

“Why would your father do that?”

“Probably because his new girlfriend wants him to get you out of the picture so she can get more for herself. Guess I forgot to mention that Dad’s divorcing Mom so that he can marry Lizzie.”

“Lizzie?”

“Her real name’s Elizabeth but Mom calls her Lizzie, mostly because she knows it irritates Dad. Lizzie is just a few years older than me.”

“Sounds like this situation is somewhat complicated.”

“Got news for you. The whole family is complicated. If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one getting screwed. Mom made the mistake of signing a prenup.”

“I see.” Cabot folded his arms on top of his desk. “I appreciate the warning, Xavier, but I have to tell you that discovering that someone wants to make sure I don’t benefit from old man Kennington’s estate does not come as the biggest surprise of the year. If it makes you feel any better, I do plan to have my own lawyer look at whatever Burleigh wants me to sign.”

“Okay. Just thought I’d tell you.” Xavier surveyed the office with intense curiosity. “You’re a real private investigator?”

“As far as I know.”

“You’re wearing a gun.”

“I’m working a case at the moment, one that involves a death that occurred under suspicious circumstances.”

“A murder case.” Xavier nodded wisely. “So that’s why you’ve got the gun. That lady out there, Ms. Troy, is she your girlfriend?”

“She’s my client,” Cabot said. He stressed the word client.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Xavier, just how and when do you plan to go home?”

“I dunno. I’ve never been to Seattle. Thought I’d stay awhile.”

“Is that right? And just where will you be staying while you’re in town?”

“I dunno. I’ll figure it out.”

The phone rang in the outer office. Cabot ignored it but he got a bad feeling about the identity of the caller.

“That’s probably Mom,” Xavier said.

There was a single knock on the door. Anson opened it without waiting for an invitation.

“Mrs. Melissa Kennington would like to speak to you,” Anson said as if the call were perfectly routine.

“Shit,” Cabot said. “What am I supposed to say?”

“Beats me,” Anson said. He closed the door.

Cabot eyed the phone. He had gone his whole life without hearing from the Kenningtons, and now they were popping up every five minutes.

He steeled himself and picked up the phone. “Cabot Sutter.”

“This is Melissa Kennington.” The voice was crisp and authoritative but it was infused with anxiety. “I understand my son is there with you.”

“Yes, he is. I believe he was just leaving.”

Xavier looked alarmed.