Chapter Twenty
By Thursday, the dust had settled in Cloverdell.
The reading of the last will and testament of Irma Winchell was scheduled for two o’clock in the afternoon, and half the population of the county arrived at Oliver Cameron’s home to hear what they might have inherited from the woman who had influenced so many.
Since there were too many beneficiaries to fit into the house or the barn or the offices of Cameron Law Firm, Spence and his security team had set up a temporary stage and seating area on the north lawn, not far from where Julio and Youngblood had been arrested.
Bethany, Erin and Mollie sat in the front row.
For the first time in days, Mollie felt like she was properly dressed in a simple sleeveless linen shift.
A brand-new purchase. Her gunshot wound had required surgery to remove fragments of bullet from the muscle tissue.
No bones were broken but she wore a sling to immobilize her left arm and chest. Word of her skill with a handgun had spread, giving her the sort of notoriety usually reserved for flamboyant Erin or exotic Madison.
Her twin had been arrested by the FBI on a wide variety of charges, but Oliver Cameron agreed to represent her; he had gotten her out on bail and hoped for a settlement she could live with.
Special Agent Jamison escorted her to the reading.
He hadn’t required her to wear handcuffs but kept a close eye on her.
When she took her seat next to Mollie, Madison stared into her twin sister’s blue eyes. For once, she wasn’t wearing too much makeup which was a good thing because tears streaked down her cheeks. “I have a lot to atone for,” she said.
Mollie nodded. “You do.”
“Can you and Dad ever forgive me?”
“We love you and support you. No matter what.”
But it was going to take a while to build trust. Though Madison swore she never committed real crimes, she had faked her death and stayed with Julio. There were penalties to be paid. Not to mention people she might have swindled and her participation in the Peligro Cartel business.
Spence joined them. After giving a curt nod to Madison, he took Mollie’s hand and led her through the crowd.
Several of the local LEOs—Salem police, SWAT and airport cops—greeted them.
As did the FBI, Homeland Security and all the other alphabet agencies.
Mollie noticed an unusually intense scrutiny.
She whispered to Spence, “A lot of these people think I’m the infamous Princesa from the Peligro Cartel.”
“Clearly, they haven’t met your sister.”
Special Agent Jamison stepped up beside Mollie. “Are all these people expecting to receive a bonanza?”
“It’s possible. Great-Aunt Irma wasn’t predictable.”
“Your dad thinks Madison is ready to end her life of crime, but Grandpa Cameron is going to have a difficult job coming up with a settlement. Law enforcement does not look kindly on people who set off explosions in forestland.”
“Madison didn’t do that,” Mollie said.
“But she was involved.”
Fortunately, the fire department had managed to contain the blaze and keep it from spreading. The destruction had been contained.
Jamison continued, “The case against Julio is going to involve serious jail time. His two men who were arrested at the reception at Bethany’s house finally flipped.
They’re happy to talk in exchange for lesser sentences.
And Youngblood has put out feelers for a deal of his own, claiming that his association with Julio was meant as an undercover operation. ”
A tidal wave of excitement surged through the crowd as Grandpa Cameron stepped up on the stage and took the microphone. After a brief remembrance of Irma, he read the main body of the will, outlining the three major beneficiaries: Bethany, Erin and Mollie.
“And now for the rest of you.” Oliver Cameron cleared his throat and started reading detailed gifts of cash and property.
After an hour, he took a break. Mollie and Spence decided to skip the rest of the afternoon.
They went to their favorite place to be alone.
The Rainy Day Art Gallery in downtown Salem. Closed for the day today.
Among the losses when the safe house burned were the two paintings by Selma Firebird. She’d agreed to provide Mollie with two similar works for display. The smaller one, showing a huntress in the forest, hung against a back wall in a secluded corner of the gallery.
Molly sat on a soft, well-worn hand-woven rug in front of the painting. Spence sat behind her providing a backrest. He stroked her bare arm and kissed her shoulder. Quietly, he said, “Thank you, Great-Aunt Irma.”
“For what?”
“For giving me the most valuable treasure in her collection.”
She turned her head toward him. “And what might that be?”
“It’s you, Mollie.”
From the moment he stepped into her life in Denver and rescued her from the gunmen, he had changed her life in ways she never imagined. She’d found love—an unexpected warmth and gentleness she hadn’t been seeking. If she’d dreamed of Spence, she wouldn’t have believed he was possible.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I’m here for you. As long as you want me.”
“Renovating this gallery is going to take some serious effort,” she said. “I’ll need somebody strong.”
“I’m your man.”
He certainly was. She felt like she’d lost part of her family when Madison betrayed her, but she’d gained a whole new connection with Spence and the Camerons. She intended to take root here and grow strong with him.
* * * * *