Chapter 21
Traci sensed something warm beside her in the bed, a head on the pillow next to hers. She smiled, sleepily turning toward him, forgetting, again, for only a moment, that he was gone.
In the weeks and months following the plane crash, Hoke’s absence, the crushing loss, the overwhelming grief, was something that she carried everywhere, like a lead-weighted collar. Almost every morning, in those weeks, she would awaken to that moment of remembering, after she’d finally managed to fall asleep and forget that he was gone, that he wasn’t right beside her in this very bed, hogging the covers, spooning against her back, his warm breath tickling her neck.
Eventually, she remembered to stop forgetting. According to her therapist, that was progress, wasn’t it?
A wet nose burrowed into her neck, and then the licking started.
“Lola, no,” she mumbled, still half-asleep. But resistance was useless. She turned her head and stared into the dachshund’s dark, unblinking eyes. “Whyyyy?”
In answer, Lola licked her nose.
“Okay,” she said, yawning. “I get the message. Breakfast it is.”
She padded into the kitchen, started the coffee, and filled Lola’s water and food bowls.
While the coffee brewed and Lola ate, Traci checked the weather forecast for the upcoming weekend. The Beach Bash was only two days away, and she was praying for sunny, dry weather.
The weather odds for Saturday looked iffy: sunny in the morning, highs in the mid-eighties, with 30 percent chance of afternoon scattered showers.
“No lightning,” Traci prayed.
After she’d showered and dressed, she steered her golf cart in the direction of Gardenia Cottage. She needed to get a handle on what Ric was plotting.
Alberta seemed surprised to see her so soon after her last visit. “Something wrong?”
“I’m not sure,” Traci admitted. “I heard Ric was here earlier in the week, and that he brought a new lawyer.”
“He did,” Alberta said. “I never seen that man before. And he got Mr. Fred all riled up. His blood pressure spiked something scary. Brought a movie camera lady with him.”
“Did Ric tell you who the lawyer was, or what he was doing?”
Alberta pressed her lips together. “You know Mr. Ric don’t tell me nothing. I’m just the help to him. Somebody to wipe his daddy’s butt and dose his medicine.”
Traci nodded. “I’m not asking you to tattle, exactly, Alberta, but did you happen to hear anything that Ric and the lawyer were discussing with my father-in-law?”
“Oh, no. Mr. Ric told me to go ahead and take my lunch break. It was only eleven o’clock—and he knows I don’t go nowhere when I have lunch. I sit in the living room and watch my stories. But that day, he hands me a twenty-dollar bill and tells me lunch is on him.”
“He definitely didn’t want you to know what he was up to,” Traci said.
“When I got back from lunch, they were still in there, talking to Mr. Fred. Then, Mr. Ric said they need me to witness something. So I went on in there, and the lawyer handed me some papers to sign, and the video lady asked me to say my name. Made me repeat it twice.”
“What kind of paper? A will?”
“Maybe? Bunch of legal words.”
“Did you see Fred sign anything?”
“You’ve seen how bad he shakes, but they put a pen in his hand, and he managed to make some kind of a chicken scratch with Mr. Ric holding on to that paper they had.”
Traci drummed her fingers on the kitchen countertop. What was Ric up to?
“Won’t be long now,” Alberta muttered.
“What makes you say that?”
“I can just tell. He’s sleeping more, don’t hardly drink that liquid supplement. He’s skin and bones. New doctor told me he thinks maybe his organs are starting to shut down.”
“New doctor?” Traci said sharply. “What happened to Dr. Forney?”
“I guess maybe she retired or something. This new man is way younger, I’ll say that.”
“A new doctor and a new lawyer. He’s definitely scheming something,” Traci said.
Alberta walked her to the door, pausing to put her hand on Traci’s shoulder. “Been meaning to ask. How about you? Are you taking care of yourself? You know, I was about your age when my man Bennie passed. I was blessed, ’cause I had my two kids, but those were some lonely times. Especially early in the mornings. For the longest time, I’d wake up and expect him to be right there beside me.”
“You too?” Traci asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Alberta said softly. “When you got good husbands, like we had, I think the body remembers. And that’s not a bad thing, is it?”
Traci called Andy Plankenhorn as soon as she got back to her office. “I just came from Fred’s house. Alberta confirmed what I’d heard about Reeves Corbett, and the videographer.”
“Tell me exactly what she told you,” the older lawyer said.
“Ric didn’t want Alberta overhearing what they were saying to Fred, so he sent her out to get lunch. When she got back, they brought her in and filmed her witnessing him sign a document of some sort, while Ric held the paper. She said it was chicken scratch.”
“Interesting.”
“Have you heard anything new?” she asked.
“I checked into Reeves Corbett. I understand he’s Ric’s fraternity brother.”
“That can’t be good,” Traci said.
“Corbett went to a decent law school, but most of his experience is in real estate, which explains a lot. He knows about as much about trusts and estates as I know about criminal law.”
“Do you think Ric is rewriting Fred’s will? How will that affect me? Honestly, Andy, with the way things are going at the Saint, I just don’t think I can take one more worry.”
“I’m sorry this is causing you such anxiety, Traci dear,” Andy said, his deep, courtly Southern voice already soothing her jangled nerves. “We can’t know what might or might not be in Fred’s new will, but I can tell you that as I understand Hoke’s will, and his intentions, it would be impossible for Ric to outright strip you of your ownership rights in the Saint.”
“Thank God,” she said fervently.
“However…”
“Ughhhhh. I don’t want to hear ‘however.’”
“Nobody ever does. I can’t ethically discuss the terms of the will our firm drew up for Fred, but there are other tangible assets, the disposition of which could be affected by any new will. And that’s all I can say about that.”
“I don’t understand a word of what you just said. But it doesn’t sound good.”
Plankenhorn cleared his throat. “The good news here is that your brother-in-law and this Reeves Corbett appear to have bungled whatever it is they are attempting to do. Having a videographer there to film with Ric—who would most certainly be a beneficiary of any new will—present, and assisting his father in signing a new document, would probably be proof of undue influence. And, of course, if Fred is not fully mentally cognizant, well, that would raise further questions at probate.”
“Is this your way of telling me it’s not all bad news?” she asked.
“Well, er…”
“Never mind. Thank you, Andy. I think.”