Chapter 1
PRESENT TIME
“ I ’m sorry for your loss.”
Sophie stared dispassionately at the lawyer as he expressed his condolences.
“I’m sure your father’s death has come as a shock.”
Not really , she thought sarcastically. The only surprise to her was that Marty hadn’t been killed years ago.
“Law enforcement believe your father’s murder was meant to serve as a message to his accomplices.”
Of that, Sophie had no doubt. Marty had had a habit of surrounding himself with other crooks.
“Mr. Keates, let me save us both some time. I stopped caring about Marty when I was four years old and had to run to a neighbor’s house to call for help after he nearly beat my mother to death. The happiest day of my life was when she left him. If you called me in here to make arrangements for his body, he can rot in the morgue, as far as I’m concerned.”
Mr. Keates seemed at a loss for words
Sophie reached for her purse. “If that’s all, I’ll let you get back to more important work. I’m going to take my mother to a celebratory lunch and tell her the happy news.”
“No—” Mr. Keates cleared his throat, reaching for an envelope on his desk. “I mean, there is another matter to discuss. Your father left you this letter, and there is the matter of what he left you in his will.”
She didn’t reach for the letter. “I don’t want a dime of his money, and you can put that letter in the shredder for me.”
Mr. Keates cleared his throat again. “There wasn’t any money. Mr. Meyer left you a restaurant.”
Son of a bitch knew she wouldn’t easily throw away a restaurant. The only trait she shared with her father was their love of restaurants.
Owning her own restaurant would be a dream come true. She had been saving money since graduating high school to achieve her goal and was still thousands of dollars away from reaching it.
Her eyes fell to her lap, where she was clenching her purse. “What kind of restaurant?”
Mr. Keates looked down at a folder on his desk. “The restaurant used to be a diner before Mr. Meyer purchased it. When he owned it, he only sold hamburgers and fries.”
Figures. The only meal she could ever remember him making her was hamburgers and fries.
Twisting the strap of her purse, she wanted to refuse the restaurant just as easily as she had any money. Only she couldn’t get the words to come out of her mouth.
She wanted a restaurant so badly. How many years would it take to earn enough money before she could purchase one on her own?
“Where’s the restaurant located?”
“Treepoint, Kentucky.”
When had Marty moved to Kentucky? The last time her mother had hired a detective to find him, he had been living in Tennessee. Where in the hell was Treepoint, anyway?
Ignoring the lawyer’s presence, she took out her cell phone and Googled Treepoint.
The town was small, really small. Would she even be able to make a living there?
“As I stated, there is no money that comes with your inheritance, but the business could present a good investment for you, or you could sell the property. Of course, you don’t have to decide what you want to do right now—think it over.” Mr. Keates picked up a thick yellow envelope, sliding the letter Marty had left her inside before he closed it and handed it to her.
Sophie stared at the envelope for a full minute before shaking her head.
The lawyer kept holding the envelope mid-air. “I understand, from your reaction to Mr. Meyer’s death, that you were estranged from your father. In my line of work, I’ve seen family members have to deal with their emotions toward the deceased and their inheritance before. Normally, they take the inheritance as payback for the hurt they feel they had to endure from the deceased. There have also been a few, like yourself, who refuse to take anything.
“My best advice to you is not to cut off your nose to spite your face. Mr. Meyers is dead. He’s not going to know if you accepted the inheritance or not. Your opportunity to pay him back for the way he treated your mother is gone. The only one who will be hurt will be you if you refuse. I don’t know your financial situation”—Mr. Keates’ gaze lowered to skim over the clothes she was wearing then returned to her eyes—“but I want you to think of your future instead of dwelling on the past before you make your decision.” He was right, much as she hated to admit it. She hated Marty so much she wanted to award the person who killed him a medal.
How many restraining orders had her mother taken out over the years since she found the courage to leave him? Her mother and stepfather had lived in fear that Marty would find them and one of his unscrupulous contacts would kill them. It was only when they constantly moved and Karter had gone no contact with his relatives that they had found a measure of peace.
At the thought of her mother and what she had gone through over the years, she reconsidered accepting the restaurant. Her mother’s health wasn’t the best, yet she was working every day at a job she hated just to keep a roof over her and Karter’s heads. Karter worked as well, but their constant moving had limited their job choices.
Resigning herself to the fact that she was going to accept her inheritance if she was ever going to further herself to get to the point where she could make a big difference in her parents’ lives, she reached out and took the envelope.
Mr. Keates’ sympathy shone out of his eyes. “It might not seem like it now, but you made the right decision.”
Sophie stared at the envelope. Then why did she feel like she had just sold her soul?
“While I do think you made the right decision, I want to give you a warning. The police found out while investigating your father’s death that he was involved in a counterfeit ring in Kentucky, spanning to Ohio, perhaps even further to other states. The investigation is ongoing. Perhaps it would be safer for you to sell the business rather than moving to Treepoint.”
“You think the police will be investigating me ?” Sophie gave the lawyer an unconcerned look. “Let them. I haven’t seen my father since I was eleven years old.”
“I’m not worried about the police. I’m more concerned, and so is the Sheriff in Treepoint, that if your father did have accomplices, they may assume you know where the counterfeit money came from.”
“I don’t.”
“I don’t believe you do,” he hastily assured her. “I just want to make you aware of the situation while you make your decision to keep or sell the restaurant.”
Holding the envelope, Sophie rose to her feet. “I appreciate the warning. I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “If I can be of any further assistance, please let me know.”
“I will.”
She left the lawyer’s office and made her way to the parking lot while calling her mom to make sure she was home before driving to her parents’ house.
As she pulled in in front of their rental home, she saw her stepfather’s car was there also.
After knocking on the door, she waited patiently for it to be opened. Then, after she gave her mother the hand signal in the camera that it was safe, her mother opened the door with a beaming smile.
“I thought you were working this morning?” her mother said, pulling her close for a hug.
“I don’t go in until two. I need to talk with you.”
“About what?” Her mother gave her a concerned glance as they sat down on the plain green couch.
“Yesterday, I received a letter from Marty’s lawyer.”
Her mother tensed, and Karter, who was stepping into the living room from the bedroom, stopped in his tracks, his face paling.
“Marty knows we’re in Arizona?”
“He must have, or the lawyer wouldn’t have been able to find me.”
Karter moved further into the living room to sit down on a chair facing the couch and buried his face in his hands in dejection.
“We don’t have enough money to move. We’re barely scraping by as it is. What are we going to do?”
“We don’t have to worry about Marty anymore.”
Karter raised his head. “Obviously, we do, if he mailed a letter to you.”
“Marty didn’t mail the letter to me—a lawyer did. I went to the lawyer’s office today. Marty’s dead.”
Her mother started sobbing, while Karter jerked to his feet to go back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Sophie knew why Karter had left—her stepfather didn’t want her to witness the same reaction her mother was having.
Sliding over the couch cushions, Sophie placed an arm over her mother’s shoulders. “He’s dead, Mom. You and Karter don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“Are you sure he’s dead? This could be another of his tricks.”
“He’s dead. I called the police department in Treepoint on the way here and talked to the sheriff. He is dead.”
Her mother cried harder. “Thank God,” she mumbled as she started rocking herself back and forth.
“It’s over, Mom. Marty can’t torment us anymore.”
“Thank you, God.”
Karter returned to sit down next to her mother on her other side, pulling her into his arms.
“It’s finally over,” she sobbed into his chest.
Sophie left them to go into the kitchen and found a full pot of coffee. She wanted to leave them so they could be by themselves but needed to discuss what else she had learned.
When she went back into the living room with three cups of steaming coffee, she told them, “That’s not all.”
Her parents turned their heads in her direction.
“He left a restaurant to me.”
“The one in Tennessee?”
“No, this one isin Treepoint, Kentucky.”
“Treepoint, Kentucky?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
Sophie debated telling her the whole truth about what Mr. Keates had told her then decided against doing so. Her mother would argue for her to sell it before she could go and check it out. She didn’t want to make the decision until she saw the restaurant.
“Nothing yet.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Her mother wiped her tears away with the palms of her hands.
“I’m going to Treepoint.”