Bouquet of Lies (10 page)

Thirteen

LACEY SHOOK HER head when Darla said, “I’ve been trying to figure out why Mother would kill Father and I decided she can’t be alive. It’s her spirit. She wanted him with her.”

Darla. The romantic. Even about murder
,
Lacey thought.
They sat in the back of the Bentley on the way to their father’s memorial service. Jake drove. Edward rode in the Cadillac, driven by Henry.

“You think Mother’s spirit whacked father with a poker?”

“Reverend Irene says it’s possible. She says Mother’s spirit is so strong she even fooled her.”

So Darla was still talking to her bogus spiritualist. Lacey caught Jake’s eye in the mirror.

Darla crossed her arms and put a bite in her voice. “Oh, I see. The two of you have been talking. Don’t ask me any more questions.”

Lacey addressed Jake. “You’ll sit with us.”

“I’ll sit in the back with my pop.”

“He can sit with us too.”

“He says it isn’t proper.”

“It is proper. Daddy liked him. He left him two hundred thousand dollars he liked him so much.”

“I know. We’ll be in the back.”

The church was packed. Mostly with Harper’s business associates. Everyone stared at Darla and Lacey as they walked down the aisle.

So these are the daughters Harper never talked about. Yes, everyone. Have a good look.

She saw a friendly face when they passed Courtney, who surreptitiously wiggled her fingers to say hello.

Then she spotted Dan’s uncle. Uncle Detective. According to TV shows, killers liked to stalk the memorials of their victims. No doubt Uncle D was hoping the perpetrator would give himself—or herself—away.

She didn’t see Dan. Hadn’t since their kiss in the kitchen. All week she’d been busy making arrangements and she’d had to cancel their official date. That hadn’t bothered him at all. Without skipping a beat he said, “Probably best with my uncle investigating your case.”

What?
He
arranged for that, the dope. So now they weren’t supposed to see each other? Why?

A flattering 18 X 24 photo of Harper propped on an easel marked center stage. Surrounding it were more flowers than Lacey had ever seen outside of an arboretum.

She and Darla scooted into the front pew and sat a few feet away from Edward. He had been on his best behavior all week. He still drank. Like now. She could smell the whiskey. But when he spoke he was civil. He had even bid her good morning once or twice. Odd behavior for him.

As expected, Darla had kept to her room. The day after the murder she allowed Lacey to comfort her, mostly in long silences. But as the week wore on, she grew more independent.
I’m not a baby. I don’t need you.
Even now, she wasn’t being clingy. Lacey grabbed Darla’s hand and Darla gave her a funny look.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

“I’m not,” Lacey replied.

Darla allowed her to keep her hand.

The church radiated peace and tradition, with stained glass windows, a large organ, and an elaborate wooden pulpit. A huge gold cross adorned the back wall.

A vague memory of having been here before rose in Lacey’s mind. She had attended services with Great Grandmama Harriet. Instead of sending her to Sunday school, Harriet preferred to keep Lacey with her. Then once Harriet died, no more church. Lacey made arrangements for Harper’s service here because it was where Harriet’s had been.

She glanced to her left and right. Three family members in attendance. Now that was sad. She had no distant cousins that she knew of. And no one had squirmed out of the woodwork to lay claim to part of the inheritance. Great Grandmama Harriet had started things off with crystal clarity. Except for Edward’s yearly dollar stipend, her money, her property, everything she owned had gone to her great granddaughters and Harper. Upon Harper’s death, it was all Darla and Lacey’s. As far as Lacey knew, Edward never contested his mother’s will. Probably because Harper supported him in style.

Quite naturally Lacey always assumed Edward would die first, and then Harper sometime in a far distant future she had never even fathomed. She had never given a second thought to what would happen with Harper’s fortune. Never.

On Thursday they had met with Harper’s lawyer, a man named Henderson, a man in a dark suit who was bald on top and had salt and pepper whiskers below. He called the meeting right away because he was going out of town and as the executor, he wanted to make certain everything was unambiguous. His client’s wishes were to be carried out to the letter.

He gave the good news to Henry whose chin began to quiver in stunned silence while Edward’s jaw churned in impatient flabbergast. “What about me?” Edward snapped.

“We’ll get to you,” Henderson said and turned to Lacey and Darla. “Harper divided most of what he owned between the two of you. I’ll give everyone a copy of the will which spells out his assets. You’ll be glad to know that Bouquet Industries carried an insurance policy to fund a purchase plan.”

“What does that mean?” Edward asked.

“It means the company has the funds to purchase back the stock left to Lacey and Darla.”

“And none to me?” Edward grumbled.

Henderson ignored him. “However, you should know this. It was not necessarily his wish that you sell. He did leave a majority of the stock to you, Lacey. In fact, he left only a few shares to Darla. His company has a capable team of executives who can run the operations nicely if you stay out of the way until such time as you, Lacey, are adequately prepared to take the helm.”

“Take the helm? What are you talking about?”

“I’m sure this comes as a surprise. Your father had a great deal of faith in you.”

Lacey’s mouth opened.

Edward rapped his cane. “Bullshit! He thought she was a fool.”

Leave it to Edward to put things succinctly. Faith in me? Ha!

“This is not about your assessment of things.” Henderson’s expression shut Edward up. Henderson looked at Lacey. “Your father and I had many a discussion about you. He considered you quite capable, but lost. He said he wanted to talk to you about your future, but you weren’t mature enough to listen.”

He wanted to talk?

“He said if you ever got your shit together, his words not mine, there was no telling what you might accomplish. He saw a great deal of himself and his grandmother in you.”

He thought about me? He talked about me? Good news travels slow.

“So here’s what I’m getting to. There is a caveat which you and Darla need to be aware of. You must start business school within a year of your father’s death or the money he left you as well as your shares of stock go to Darla. You must stay in school and you must graduate with nothing lower than a three point seven average.”

“Business school,” Lacey mumbled, her mind swimming. “Three point seven?”

“There are many colleges with fine programs. I can help you with that,” Henderson said.

Everyone was quiet until Darla spoke. “He thought of me as the weak one.”

“I’m afraid that’s true,” the lawyer said matter-of-factly as he adjusted his glasses. “I’m to serve as trustee of Harper’s assets left to you until you reach the age of twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five.” Darla frowned.

Edward guffawed. “Like that matters. You have the house. The money my mother rightfully should have left to me. And now it’s apparent my own son turned against me.” Edward looked like he might explode. 

Henderson took it in stride. “Harper naturally assumed you would pass first. But he was a man of foresight and did make a provision for you. Fifty thousand a year for the rest of your life.”

“Despicable. What a paltry sum!”

“And health care coverage.”

“With fifty thousand I can hire my own lawyer—”

“Contest it, you get nothing.” Henderson’s eyes were locked on Edward. “Believe me, it is all ironclad and proper. I drew it up and I know what I’m doing.”

Ironclad. Business school. I have to go to business school? Three point seven!
The thoughts tumbled over and over in Lacey’s mind until she suddenly caught the minister’s words.

“He was a man of vision.”

He sounds like Henderson.
She put a hand on her forehead. Her father had faith in her? How much did she have in herself?

It came time for people to speak and Edward made the first move. He hobbled toward the podium and fell. Three people rushed to his aid and he thanked them profusely. It all looked calculated to Lacey.

“You’ll forgive an old man with raging arthritis.” He offered a pitiful smile.

Raging alcoholism, maybe,
Lacey thought
. What’s going on, Edward?

“My son was a great man. I always knew he would be. I think it’s common knowledge I raised him on my own.”

Great Grandmama Harriet would beg to differ.

“And it was a pleasure. From the time he was small, he was industrious. Always thinking in terms of business. I hate to admit it, but I was never able to be the breadwinner for my family. Yes, for good reason. Because of my health.”

Health reasons?
Lacey almost laughed out loud. Someone in the back did burst out with a “Ha.” It sounded like Courtney.

“But the shame that comes with that can be unbearable. Admirably, it never bothered my son. He took the financial reins. He took care of me. A father and son could not have been closer.” Edward squeezed his eyes together in counterfeit grief and paused. “He was my son. He never expected to die first. So now it will be up to the daughters he raised, the daughters who lacked for nothing . . .”

Except parental affection.

“To care for a penniless grandfather. Harper.” He looked skyward. “I hope they make you proud, selfish creatures that they are.” He kissed two fingers and raised them as if offering the kiss to Harper.

Now she got it. Edward was polite all week because he was at their mercy. Funny. It never occurred to her to throw him out. That she could if she wanted to, made her smile for the first time since Harper’s death.

Business associates spoke next. They told funny anecdotes.

“He had the driest sense of humor. No matter what woman he was dating . . .”

Dating? Daddy had a love life? He certainly never brought anyone home.

“He always told the same joke. ‘I answered an ad in the personals. Buxom brunette. Five-foot-seven. One hundred twenty-five pounds. Successful in business. No children. Enjoys travel and pampering her man. Seeks similar qualities in a partner for as long as the good times last. Golfers need not apply.’” The church rippled with laughter. “So, of course, Mr. Sixteen Handicap answered the ad.” More laughter.

It seemed like everyone had something to say: “I remember the time . . .” “He was always . . .” “We had dinner together at least once a month . . .”

The stories kept coming and Lacey realized all these people knew her father better than she did.

Randy Barber stepped to the podium. Harper’s golden boy. What in the world did he have to say?

“My first day of work, I witnessed Harper Bouquet fire a guy. We were in a meeting and I was giving a presentation. Yes. My first day of work I was giving a presentation. That was Harper. He gave me an assignment the day he hired me and told me to come ready. I came ready. So I’m explaining a strategy I believed the company could use to overtake the competition, a competitor Bouquet had never bested, and I’m interrupted. Someone trying to impress the boss started offering obstructions to my plan. ‘You know,’ said Harper, ‘the one who says it can’t be done should never interrupt the one who’s doing it. That’s all I ever see you do. Go pack up your desk. See if you can handle that.’ Now, that may sound a bit theatrical. But here’s my point.”

Randy’s eyes focused on Darla.

“Have confidence. If there is something needed, know it can be accomplished. That’s what Harper believed and I believe it too.”

He walked away from the microphone, squeezed Edward’s hands first and spoke, “I’m sorry for your loss.” He came to Lacey and with deeply sincere eyes, squeezed her hands but said nothing. He went to Darla, took her hands and bent in close, but Lacey could still hear. “I know he believed in you. He told me so.”