Chapter 1 #3
But that seemed doubtful. She didn’t think it was paranoia that gave her the feeling that eyes were staring at her from all around the room, just waiting for something to happen.
And she knew that something would not be particularly pleasant for her.
They all blamed her for making Donald miserable when she filed for divorce.
She was, of course, not the monster they all thought her to be.
But then neither was she the saint that Don had constantly proclaimed her to be.
She sighed. The room was quiet save for a few whispers exchanged as the attorney looked through his papers and cleared his throat.
Anticipation hung in the air like the blade of a guillotine.
Roxanne didn’t know what the assembled friends and relatives were more eager to hear—the reading of the will or her potential dressing down at the hands of her mother-in-law.
At last the attorney began and Penelope took her seat next to Roxanne.
“Relatives and friends, we are gathered to hear the last will and testament of the late Donald P. Boswell III. As you all know, the execution of the conditions of this will are pending the completion of the police investigation of Donald’s death and any implications of the results therein.
” Dillon looked directly at Roxanne. She felt heat rise in her and struggled to maintain her placid stare.
She scolded herself to shore up her mental armor.
That was only the first shot; the battle hadn’t even started.
“Very well then, being of sound mind…” The attorney droned on that way, inserting neither comments nor emotion into the legal jargon of the document.
The speech was punctuated only by the appropriately subdued reaction of each benefactor as they were named.
Until he stopped altogether and asked those already named to leave.
The servants, the cousins, the few friends, all left, confused in their mumblings as they went out the door.
Another man from the lawyer’s office ushered the last of them out and closed the door behind them.
The only people left in the room other than Roxanne were Penelope’s people.
There was Penelope, Penelope’s daughter Jane, her sister Louise and her husband, and her late husband’s brother, Donald’s uncle Jerome.
They sat silently, waiting. Roxanne had never been to a will reading.
She had no idea what to expect, but this seemed odd to her.
That only added to her growing discomfort.
“It was Donald’s wish that this part of the will where he bequeaths the bulk of the family fortune, left to him by his father, be read in semi-privacy.
” The man looked down at the papers and then up again.
“Donald came to me several months ago to alter the will that had been drawn up just prior to his marriage to Ms. Roxanne Monet. As all of you were familiar with the contents of the will at that time, let me point out the major difference.” He stopped again and Roxanne could feel cold stares in her direction.
She heard the other members of their small party shifted in their seats.
Roxanne stared ahead and dared not guess what Donald had done to the will.
His mother had insisted that Donald have a prenuptial agreement before marrying Roxanne, and had dictated the terms of the previous will.
Roxanne cooperated without a fuss, relieved at the time that she couldn’t rightly be accused of being completely mercenary.
Of course she was so accused, nevertheless.
Now she didn’t move. She held her chin up and forced thought from her mind by trying to concentrate on the brick in the fireplace directly above the attorney’s head.
But she thought of Donald instead. He’d been an adoring husband and she wanted that, needed it at first. But she couldn’t give him the same in return.
He deserved so much better than she could give him and now he would never have it.
She bowed her head and blinked her eyes.
There would be no escaping the guilty mistake of her marriage now.
She instinctively put a hand over her eyes.
There were no tears, only that twisting knife feeling in her gut.
Crying wouldn’t do any good anyway. There was nothing she could do for him anymore. Donald was dead.
She steeled herself and looked up again.
The attorney cleared his throat. “Whereas in the prior will, Ms. Roxanne Monet was to be bequeathed nothing, it has been amended. Ms. Monet is now bequeathed all remaining cash, stocks, bonds, real estate, and other material items such that were in the deceased’s possession at the time of his death.
In other words, the remainder of the estate in its entirety goes to Roxanne Monet. ”
“NO! This can’t be!” Penelope bolted up out of her seat and stood in front of Roxanne. Murmurs of shock ran through the small group. Roxanne’s heart must have skipped a beat because she felt slightly dizzy for a split second, but that was all she had time for.
“You little bitch!” The older woman slapped Roxanne’s face with a gloved hand. Roxanne did not flinch, but narrowed her eyes at the woman, refusing to budge.
“You can’t hide behind Donald’s protection any longer. I was right all along about you. You’re nothing but a fortune-hunting slut! And now you think you’ve finally got what you wanted—all the money. Well you’re wrong!
“You put him up to this change in the will and I’ll prove it! It will never stand. I will challenge it immediately.” Penelope turned to her astounded family.
“We will contest this will. She’ll never get away with it.” She turned back to Roxanne and sneered.
“I’ll see you penniless and friendless. And then I’ll see you thrown in jail for the murder of my son!” There were gasps. The attorney’s mouth hung open.
Roxanne couldn’t help feeling a shade paler at the last accusation, before she quickly reset her jaw to a rigid line and stood. Penelope turned and waved her hand at the lawyer signaling that the reading was finished and she stormed toward the door.
“Wait just a minute.” Roxanne’s voice was quiet, but Penelope stopped with a jolt all the same.
When the older woman turned back to look at her, Roxanne could tell that her well-controlled smile and demeanor maddened the woman.
It was surprisingly easy to stand there and take the full wrath of Penelope Boswell after all.
Somewhere deep down inside, Roxanne knew it didn’t matter what any of the Boswells thought anymore.
“You can have your precious estate. I want no part of it—or you. As far as this new will is concerned, I’m just as surprised—and displeased—as you.
“As for murder, I won’t even justify that ridiculous insinuation with a defense.
” Roxanne turned to the lawyer. “I don’t want any of it.
Draw up the appropriate papers and I’ll sign them.
” She turned on her heel and with her chin up, she sauntered past Penelope Boswell to leave the room the way she’d come in.
No one said a word. They only watched. When Roxanne reached the door she turned to Penelope once again.
She lifted her right hand and yanked a monstrous emerald and platinum ring from it.
She flung the family heirloom in the direction of her ex-mother-in-law so that it landed on the floor in front of her.
“You may have that too.”
A collective gasp was elicited from the small party.
“Don’t mistakenly think that this exonerates you in any way.
I won’t ever forgive you for killing my son.
You will pay for it.” Penelope spoke in a quiet, controlled voice.
Her narrow eyes aimed like lasers straight through Roxanne.
Disconcerted in spite of her outward poise, Roxanne walked out without taking another breath until she got outside.
“And that’s the story.” She patted Dr. Oki on the hand because he looked so distraught after listening to her.
As the party swirled around her and she found herself staring into her now empty wine glass she felt compelled to somehow cheer her two good friends. They stood staring sympathetically at her. And she hated sympathy.
“Hey, you guys aren’t doing your part here. Go mingle and spread good cheer and raise more funds; after all this is a fund-raising event.” She looked at them and Laura’s frown was comical.
“No offense Rox, but this group isn’t the easiest to mingle with. The sports set?” Laura grimaced.
“You know very well why we chose to focus on this industry. Professional athletes have the two vital ingredients necessary to a successful fund-raising campaign for Children’s Mercy Hospital. They have children and they have money.”
“I know, and this is only the beginning. It’s September. What will I do this winter?” Laura said.
Roxanne was chairperson of the hospital’s voluntary fund-raising group and she needed Laura’s support to help keep the hospital and their staff involved in hosting the many events they would be sponsoring.
Roxanne no longer had the resources to do much on her own.
Ever since she’d gotten involved in fund-raising for the hospital years ago after her mother died, it meant everything to her.
Dr. Oki and Laura and the research staff felt like family to her.
It gave her something really meaningful to do that working as a TV talk show hostess did not—or rather it didn’t when she actually was a TV talk show hostess.
“I know. Call me an intellectual snob if you will, but these people are only interested in sports. You’d be better off if I were a twelve-year-old boy,” Laura said.
“I had an interesting conversation with Brian Dennis,” Roxanne pointed out. Laura looked at her with skepticism and a wave of her hand.
“No offense, but I know how your conversations go, and he wouldn’t need a brain to be responsive to you,” Laura said.