Chapter 9
Rachel Alden’s engagement letter had arrived by email at eight the night before.
Emma spent the first hour the next morning going over her documents.
At quarter to nine, she tucked her legal pad and all documents into her bag and drove into Old Town.
Alden & Petit occupied a converted Victorian on Whitehead Street painted the color of soft yellow butter.
A pineapple flag hung from the porch, and a small brass plaque beside the front door was the only thing that identified it as a law office.
A bicycle was chained to the railing, and Emma wondered which attorney had ridden it to work.
Emma parked down the block and walked back.
The young woman at the front desk introduced herself as Yolanda. She had a serious face and a warm handshake.
“Rachel will be out in a minute.”
Emma sat in one of the chairs near the window and looked around.
The reception area took up most of the front room of what had once been someone’s house.
Old hardwood floors creaked beneath Yolanda’s chair, and a ceiling fan turned slowly overhead.
Shelves of legal books covered one wall, while framed maps of old Key West hung on another.
The creaking floor reminded Emma of the cottage.
It seemed strange that so many things did now.
Rachel appeared a minute later wearing a blazer over a linen shell.
“Come on back.”
Rachel’s office was at the rear of the house, with one tall window overlooking a narrow side garden. A fig tree grew close to the glass, its branches nearly touching the building. Rachel’s desk was clear except for a legal pad, a pen and two folders.
She sat and motioned for Emma to take the chair across from her.
“Here is the retainer and engagement letter along with Jake’s letter.”
“Great, before we do anything else, I’ve got a copy of the will.”
Emma looked at the folder beneath Rachel’s hand.
For the last several days, everyone had been talking about the document as though Emma knew exactly what it contained. Samantha had found it. Maeve had explained what it might mean, and Rachel was already preparing to challenge what had happened in probate.
Emma had never actually seen it.
Rachel slid the folder across the desk.
“This is the copy recorded with Monroe County. I had Yolanda get it yesterday.”
Emma opened the folder.
Her grandmother’s name appeared near the top of the first page.
Gloria Kendrick.
Emma ran her eyes over the document, trying not to rush. The legal language meant very little to her, but Gloria’s name did. So did the date. She thought about where she’d been when her grandmother signed it and wondered whether Gloria had considered calling her afterward.
Rachel leaned forward and turned to a later page.
“Here.”
Emma followed her finger.
Twenty-Three Hibiscus Lane.
Her own name appeared beneath it.
Emma read the paragraph once and then again, even though the words didn’t change.
For days, the cottage had been something other people told her Gloria had left to her. Seeing it in front of her was different. Her grandmother had sat down with someone and signed her name to it.
She had wanted Emma to have the house.
Emma touched the edge of the page.
“Can I get a copy of this?”
“I already made one for you. That one’s yours.”
“Thank you.”
Rachel watched her close the folder before reaching for the second one.
“Now we deal with your uncle.”
The folder contained the affidavit Rachel had drafted from Emma’s notes.
It described twelve separate statements Arthur had made between May of the previous year and April of this one.
Each was dated when Emma had a date, and several included Arthur’s actual words because Emma had written them down at the time.
“I want you to read every line,” Rachel said. “If something isn’t true as written, we fix it. If it’s true but incomplete, we add what’s missing. Don’t sign anything until you’re comfortable with every word.”
Emma spent the next ten minutes reading the will.
Seeing Arthur’s statements gathered in one place was different from remembering them one at a time.
He had told her the estate was settled. He had described the cottage as nearly worthless and said repairs would cost more than the property could justify.
He had told her there was nothing she needed to do and nothing Gloria had left that required her attention.
Emma had known for several days that he’d lied to her. She hadn’t understood how often he had done it until Rachel put the lies in order.
She corrected two dates and asked Rachel to soften one adjective. Everything else stayed.
“It’s accurate,” Emma said.
“Good. Yolanda’s a notary. I’ll bring her in.”
Yolanda returned with a stamp and a small book. She watched Emma sign in three places, then stamped, signed and dated the affidavit before taking the executed original with her.
When the door closed, Rachel sat back in her chair.
“I have news for you.”
Emma put down her pen.
“Tell me.”
“I took the notice of pending claim to the courthouse yesterday morning. Judge Ellsworth signed off on the motion to intervene at four. As of nine o’clock this morning, the pending sale of Twenty-Three Hibiscus Lane is formally halted.”
Emma stared at her.
“The sale is stopped?”
“It is. Coastal Title has been notified and so has the buyer’s attorney. They have thirty days to respond, but I’d be surprised if they stay in this fight. They’re a rental LLC. There are easier properties to buy.”
Emma let out a breath.
“That fast?”
“In this case, yes. Samantha Larson did the right thing, the paperwork was clean and you moved quickly when she called. It doesn’t always happen this way, so enjoy this part.”
Emma looked down at the folder containing Gloria’s will.
Three days ago, she hadn’t known the cottage belonged to her. Now the document saying it did was sitting in her lap, and a judge had stopped Arthur from selling it.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but we’re not finished.”
“I know.”
“Your uncle will receive a courtesy letter from my office by the end of the day. He’ll know you have counsel, the sale has been stopped and we’re challenging the probate. I expect him to contact you.”
“I won’t answer.”
“Good. Calls, texts, emails, anything he sends goes to me.”
Emma nodded.
Rachel pulled her calendar closer.
“What are you doing with the rest of your day?”
Emma thought about Jake sitting on the porch yesterday and asking her to come back after she talked to the lawyer.
“I have a tenant to update.”
Rachel smiled slightly.
“Good. He’s earned it.”
She wrote something on the calendar.
“Be back here at nine tomorrow. Your uncle should have my letter by tonight, and I’d rather we be in the same room when he starts reacting to it.”
Emma slipped Gloria’s will into her bag.
For once, she didn’t mind the thought of Arthur reacting.
Emma sat in her rental car beneath the shade of a mahogany tree for a full minute before starting the engine.
The sale was stopped.
She had carried those words around as a hope since Samantha Larson called her office. Now they were a fact, and Emma said them quietly to herself once just to hear how they sounded.
The sale was stopped.
She rested her hands on the steering wheel.
She’d thought relief would come all at once, but instead it seemed to move through her slowly. The cottage was still tied up in a legal mess. Arthur had years of explaining to do, and Emma still didn’t know whether Gloria’s will would ultimately give her the house.
But no one was buying it today.
That was enough for now.
Back at Winslow’s, she changed out of her linen shirt and into a T-shirt and khaki shorts. She ate half a sandwich at a small table near the main house and texted Maeve.
The answer came within a minute.
Connie will take full credit for this. Let her. Good work.
Emma smiled and texted Priya next.
Priya responded with a string of green heart emojis. She only did that when she was too busy at the hospital to type but too pleased to say nothing.
Then Emma texted Marcy.
The response took a little longer.
Bradley asked how you’re doing. I almost fell out of my chair.
Emma read it twice.
Bradley had worked two offices away from her for nearly a year, and Emma couldn’t remember him ever asking Marcy how she was doing when Emma was actually in Chicago.
She typed, Tell him I’m fine, and put the phone facedown beside her plate.
Emma walked into Margarita Max’s wearing a smile from ear to ear.
Tess was at the register. She looked up and stopped what she was doing.
“What?”
“It’s stopped.”
“What’s stopped?”
“The sale. A judge signed the order yesterday afternoon, and it took effect at nine this morning. The cottage isn’t going anywhere.”
Tess put both hands flat on the bar.
“Leah!”
“I’m four feet away from you.”
“The sale’s stopped.”
Leah came around the end of the bar with a dish towel still over one shoulder and wrapped her arms around Emma.
Emma stiffened for half a second before hugging her back.
She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done that. Months, probably. Maybe longer.
Leah let her go.
“Four days,” she said. “You’ve been on this island four days.”
Connie came through the door from the back with her reading glasses pushed up on her head. She stopped when she saw them gathered together.
“Well?”
“It’s stopped, Connie.”
Connie took off her glasses, folded them and tucked them into her apron pocket. Then she gave one slow nod, as though the whole thing had gone exactly as she’d expected.
“I’m glad I sent you my niece.”
Tess turned toward her.
“You sent her a niece who isn’t allowed to practice law in Florida and still managed to get it done.”
“Maeve is awesome.”
Emma smiled, “So are all of you. I couldn’t have done this without your help. Thank you all so much.”
Connie disappeared beneath the bar looking almost embarrassed by the compliment.
From his usual stool at the far end, Lloyd spoke without turning around.
“Which house is it?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lloyd,” Leah said. “Drink your beer.”
Emma looked down the bar. Lloyd did exactly that.