Chapter Twenty #2
Her phone vibrated. She didn’t have time to look at it. She slipped it back into her purse.
“Thank you all for coming in today,” Mr. Price said.
“As the attorney who wrote up Anne Berry’s will, I would like to clarify a few things.
She was of sound mind when she wrote her final wishes.
It was drawn up quite a few years ago, but I can assure you that she gave it due care.
And she was in no way coerced. I would testify to those things in court. ”
Anger rolled off Roger as the attorney spoke. “It doesn’t matter. We have papers that say Billie Jean is the correct heir to the estate.”
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Price held up the papers Holly had given him earlier. “I’ve had a chance to look those over.”
“They’re legit. Signed by a judge and everything,” Billie Jean said.
“I see that. Did you know that judge retired last week? One day before he supposedly signed this document.”
“What?” Roger jumped to his feet. He leaned over the big oak desk. His voice was more like a snarl. “They’re real.”
Mr. Price didn’t flinch. He picked up the phone. “Shall we call the judge now?”
Roger backed down. “It doesn’t matter. Billie Jean was the woman’s daughter. She should get everything.”
“Sit down,” Mr. Price said in a firm tone, as though he were speaking to an unruly four-year-old. He put down the phone. “Sit down, now.”
Roger hesitated but then did as he was told.
Mr. Price pulled out another set of papers from his desk drawer. He put on his reading glasses and adjusted them on his nose. Then he scanned the document until he came to the right place.
“This is a personal letter that Anne put with her will.” He glanced at Holly. “You didn’t know about it because there was never a need for it until now.” He cleared his throat and began to read.
“Billie Jean, if you’re reading this letter, it means you came back to see how much money you can get from my estate.
You never had time for me in life, but now you think you are owed something.
You are not. But just so you can’t claim that I forgot you or overlooked you.
Here is one hundred dollars.” Mr. Price reached into an envelope.
He placed a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill on the desktop and slid it toward Billie Jean.
Holly couldn’t help but think about how much it must have hurt her grandmother to write this letter. Gran had a big heart. It was why she had all of Holly’s friends call her Gran, even though they were of no relation.
Gran was loving, but she was also a realist. She didn’t hang her hopes on rainbows and unicorns. She tried to relay that to Holly, but she still clung to her Christmas wish of reuniting her family. She realized now how foolish she’d been.
Mr. Price cleared his throat. “I attempted to send you this letter and the money, but after an exhaustive search, we were unable to locate a permanent address for you.”
Holly waited for them to give the attorney the address to that big white house that she’d seen the picture of at their lunch at the Peppermint Courtyard.
When neither of them spoke up, realization dawned on Holly.
The picture they’d shown her wasn’t their home.
It was all made up, just like most of everything else they’d told her.
They were nothing more than con artists.
Mr. Price leaned back in his chair. “You can waste your time and money contesting the will, but you should know that I will defend it vigorously just as my client would have wanted. And if you continue to harass Holly, I will bring you up on fraud charges.”
Roger muttered something under his breath as he stood up. Then he turned to Billie Jean. “Let’s go. We have places to be.”
And that was it. They walked away without another word to either of them. As they exited the building, Holly could feel the weight on her shoulders lifting.
Still, she didn’t want to get too excited. She looked at Mr. Price. “Is this it? Is it over?”
He nodded. “I did a little digging, and neither one of them has any money to take you to court. And even if they did. They would lose.”
Mr. Price stood and stepped out from behind his desk. “You don’t have to worry. Go enjoy your holiday.”
Tears rushed to her eyes as she stood. She blinked repeatedly. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done. It means so much. How much do I owe you?”
Mr. Price waved away her offer. “Nothing. Consider it a Christmas gift.”
It didn’t feel right not to pay him anything after the way she’d interrupted his holiday. “Are you sure? I feel like I need to do something to repay you for all you’ve done.”
He was quiet for a moment, and then he smiled. “I know. After the holidays, my wife and I will stop by your shop, and my wife can pick out one of your beautiful baskets of soaps. She’s always going on about them. Would that work?”
It wasn’t what she had in mind, and it didn’t seem like nearly enough, but she nodded her head. “Yes, it will work.”
And then because he wouldn’t let her pay him, she threw her arms around the older man and hugged him. “Thank you for saving the only life I’ve ever known.”
When she pulled back, he said, “Don’t hesitate to contact me if they bother you again. I will bring them up on fraud charges.”
By the time she left the attorney’s office, she felt so much better. She reached for her phone to call Colin and tell him the good news. Then she realized she couldn’t do that—not after the way she’d ended things between them. Her good mood deflated like a balloon with a slow leak.