Chapter 16 #2
I took a few deep, shaky breaths through my nose, gathering myself to try to explain to Ricky. “You know how I’m Autistic, right?”
“Yes, Oliver, I do,” he said evenly, still rubbing my hand between his.
“So …” I wasn’t sure how to put this. “There are a lot of ways I’ve tried to learn how to be … less Autistic, I guess? Or, to adapt, maybe, to thinking more like a neurotypical person? But, sometimes, when I’m not feeling too sharp, I forget some of those adaptations.”
Ricky gazed thoughtfully straight ahead, nodding slowly.
“Hmm. Kind of like code switching, but for how you think. That sounds awfully challenging, Oliver, like a lot of pressure to carry. I feel like if it was me, I’d get overwhelmed by that pressure and forget all the time—but I also feel like maybe I’d wonder why I put that pressure on myself in the first place. It seems like you shouldn’t have to.”
“Maybe not, in an ideal world,” I shrugged. “But it’s what people expect. If I don’t do it, they don’t know how to interact with me. Or I make assumptions or mental leaps I shouldn’t. Which is what I did this time.”
“Okay, I think I understand what you were saying. I said that Lis was Cecilia’s heir, which is true, right? And since that’s true, you assumed I had arrived at that conclusion based on the same information that you have.”
“Yes,” I admitted red-facedly.
“The information you’re going to share with me now?”
“Yes. Ugh, I feel so dumb!”
“Oliver, please stop beating yourself up,” Ricky said, putting his head back on my shoulder.
“I was just so—they asked me to keep it confidential, you know? But then it seemed like you knew, but of course you didn’t know, and I should have told you, but I always take things so seriously or literally or—” My irritation and agitation were threatening again to spiral out of control.
“Oliver.” Ricky’s voice was firm, but with a note of pleading.
“You’ve been distracted. Drea put this dumb pressure on us with this whole ‘romance’ thing, and we’ve both been a little freaked out about it.
People have been dropping like flies here.
You had every right to be distracted; it’s okay to not do everything perfectly. God knows I’ve been a mess.”
Now I was distracted again. “You have?”
“Obviously. Look at me! But that doesn’t matter right now. Tell me about the will.”
“The will. Right. Okay. Well, first of all, Lis is gay.”
“Right,” Ricky nodded. “We established that when we were chasing her wife.”
“I told you that Cecilia was a homophobe, didn’t I?”
“I think you did mention it.” Ricky’s voice betrayed only a tiny hint of impatience.
“Denise said Cecilia liked us, though, did I tell you that?”
“How could she not,” Ricky said drily. “We are a delightful combination.”
“Anyway, Cecilia and Lis had a big falling out when Lis came out. They were estranged for a long time, and had only recently started to reconcile. I got the impression that the estrangement had mostly come from Cecilia’s side, and the reconciliation was mostly coming from Lis’s side.”
“Because Lis wanted to get in good with her mom to keep her claim on those millions,” Ricky said insistently.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Cecilia had cut Lis out of the will, and I think Lis knew that. She had made Richard her sole heir.”
“But then, what if Richard died before Cecilia?”
“In that case, there was a secondary heir,” I said. “Wiley.”
Ricky’s eyes went wide. “Wiley?”
I nodded slowly. “And I get the impression he knew about it, too. When the lawyer, Benson, told Wiley and Lis about the reading of Cecilia’s will tomorrow, I got the distinct impression that they both expected that it would be good news for Wiley, not Lis.”
“But the new will that you witnessed?”
“It disinherited Wiley and reinstated Lis as the sole heir. Cecilia’s dislike of Tawny seemed to outweigh her homophobia.
So, as you correctly assumed, Lis is the primary beneficiary of Cecilia’s will.
But as far as everyone in the family knew, it would be Richard, or, after he died, Wiley.
Denise and Lis were talking about trying to get back into Cecilia’s will when we saw them at the park—Denise told me so, she was embarrassed about it—but they had no guarantee of that happening, and probably no way of knowing that it had happened in the very short time between Richard’s and Cecilia’s deaths.
Killing Cecilia, if indeed she was killed, especially so quickly after Richard, would have been a very risky move for Lis. ”
Ricky rubbed his chin. “Whereas … if I’m Wiley and Richard drops dead—maybe I helped him, maybe I got lucky—I suddenly have a golden opportunity to inherit and might want to make sure that happens before the reconciliation with Lis gets her back into the will.”
“We can’t place him anywhere near the spa around the time of Cecilia’s death,” I pointed out.
“Can we place him much of anywhere? He seems elusive. Where was he the night Richard died, after everybody left the lounge? Where was he during Cecilia’s massage? How is Wiley spending his time here?”
I pondered this. “How can we find out?”
Ricky waved at his bandaged ankle. “I’m not sure we can, unless we invite him over for cocktails, and if we did, I’m not sure he’d come. But maybe you can wander around a little, see if you bump into him. In fact, I wonder …”
Ricky reached over to the room phone on the bedside table, punching the button for the front desk.
“Hello? Hi, Erik, this is Ricky. Yes, but you don’t have to call me that.
Anyway, I’m wondering if the bar in the lounge is open if we wanted something?
What do you have that’s good for a sprained ankle?
Mmm, yes, I think a milkshake would be good medicine.
Okay, thanks, Erik, Oliver might be up soon. ”
His eyebrow shot up as he turned back to me.
“We know one way Wiley’s been spending his time.
Someone was playing the piano in the lounge.
That will almost certainly be him. I think my ankle is acting up, and the only thing that’ll make it better is a nice, frosty milkshake.
You choose the flavor—you’ll be the one drinking it anyway. ”