Death Changes Everything (16 page)

“Of course.”

“I think what Della meant to say is that each man had discussed the contents. What may or may not have been in their actual wills, or changes that may have been made in those wills since the last time they discussed the contents, may not have been widely known,” offered Jake.

“Isn’t he wonderful, the way he speaks?” asked Della, smiling warmly at Jake.

“Has your family discussed how Steven’s death alters the disposition of your late husband’s estate?”

Della looked puzzled and turned to Jake. “Why would Steven’s death change anything in Roger’s will?”

“Roger didn’t want to put a condition in his will addressing the possibility that one of his children would die before him. You know how he was about that kind of thing, Della. I spoke with Roger about it when I was out there, but he hadn’t had time to change the will before he died.”

“I don’t understand. Are you saying Maddie and the children have been disinherited?”

“They will, of course, inherit whatever Steven had. That just won’t include any of what Steven would have inherited from Roger.” Jake looked uncomfortable as Della digested this piece of news.

“I had no idea,” she said at last.

“I’m sure Steven provided well for Maddie and the kids,” Jake assured her.

“But what happens to what should have been Steven’s share?”

“Roger’s share in Hill Energy will go to Ryan, that hasn’t changed. The rest of the estate, after your lifetime interest in it, will go to Pam.”

Della looked relieved. “I’ll speak to her. I’m sure Roger would have made arrangements for Maddie and the children had he lived. Pam will want to honor his wishes.”

Matt thought it was unlikely Pam would part with a penny to assist her brother’s widow or his children, but it was not his place to point that out to her. “I’d like to ask about the burglary of your home.”

“You mustn’t pay any attention to what Pam said about Steven stealing from us while we were gone. Steven had our complete trust or we wouldn’t have asked him to look after the house while we were gone.”

“I wondered why you would ask Steven, who is so busy, instead of Pam.”

“Pam’s busy, too. Men always think a stay-at-home mother isn’t doing anything, but let me tell you, it’s harder work raising seven children than running a company.”

“My apologies. Have you noticed anything else missing since you’ve been home?”

“No, nothing. Roger would have let you know if he’d noticed anything.”

“Your son gave us a list of items that were in the safe. The list refers to paperwork but it doesn’t say what kind of paperwork.”

“Our wills, Roger’s and mine. Our passports too, ordinarily, but of course we had them with us.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hill. I appreciate you seeing me on short notice.”

Jake walked Matt to his car. As they passed his truck, he pulled out an envelope and handed it to Matt. “Roger’s will. I was on my way to file it with probate court when Maddie called. I don’t see why you should have to wait for the Clerk to run you a copy. I was going to drop it off for you.”

“How successful do you think Winters would be in challenging this will?”

“Not at all. He’d have to prove Roger wasn’t capable of making his own decisions or that someone named in the will exerted undue influence on him. Neither condition would apply.”

“And those are the only terms under which a challenge would be successful?”

“He could produce a will more recent than this. He’d have to prove the new will is valid.”

“Morty has a vivid imagination.”

“Not a bad thing in a detective. Helps us ask questions we might not otherwise have thought of.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Matt started down the driveway, but turned and came back.

“Forget something?”

“I’m sorry. About what I said yesterday.”

“Apology accepted. You were just trying to do your job.”

“Mistakes get people killed, Jake. I need you to be more careful.”

“So, you want me back on the team?”

“Yeah.”

“Danning talk to you?”

Matt looked away and clenched his hand. “Does everybody have to know my business?”

“Sorry. You were pretty set on me being off the case yesterday.”

Matt leaned his back against Jake’s truck. “I still feel that way.”

“I know.”

The two men stood for a few minutes, saying nothing. Matt pushed away from the truck. “But my wings have been clipped. I’ve been benched for the duration.” He looked up at Jake, who stood nearly six inches taller.

“I’ll try not to get myself killed, how’s that?”

Matt glared at him. “Is Mrs. Hill really that out of touch or is she just not willing to air dirty laundry?”

“I knew Roger much better than Della. When I wrote her will, Roger told me what to say. I typed it up and brought it out to the house for her to sign.”

“Controlling.”

“That he was. Don’t get me wrong, he was a good man, but everything had to be his way. My dad warned me about that when I took over for him.” Jake looked closely at Matt. “Buddy, you really do look like something Sparky threw up.”

“Gee thanks.”

“Tell me what you want done and I’ll do it. You go home. Get some sleep.”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed the muscles at the back of his neck. “Find Valerie Smith, I guess.”

“Actually, now that I’m back on the team, I can tell you that Emma and Grace are working on that.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“Probably not. I’ll try to find Winters, then I’ll see if they need some help knocking on doors.”

“That’ll make Morty happy.”

“Go home.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

***

“Do you think we should be doing this? Matt told us to stand down.” Emma held open the door of her SUV and Grace climbed out, clipboard in hand. With no brochures or bumper stickers, Grace had decided they would gather voter input. Grace had prepared questions and prepared to take notes.

“Are you certain Matthew isn’t home?” She asked, ignoring Emma’s question.

“Kristy said he went to work, but she’s expecting him back for lunch. She’s going to try to keep him at her place this afternoon, but she’ll call to warn us if he’s on his way here. She thinks we should be safe at least until one-thirty. I hate asking her to be our lookout.”

“I heard you on the phone, practically begging Kristy to say no if she felt it would cause friction between her and Matthew. We’re not asking her to lie to him.”

“No, just keep something from him.”

“Then we’d better get moving so we can finish before Matthew comes home. That way, she’s got nothing to keep from him either.”

“Nobody’s going to be home on a work day.”

“You are such a sourpuss today, Emma. A little more enthusiasm would be appreciated.” They started with the apartments closest to Matt’s. Since Valerie had repeatedly parked in his space, it made sense that she would have been staying at one of the apartments nearby.

The complex had several buildings, with apartments clustered in groups of four, two upstairs and two down. Matt’s was downstairs on the right in his cluster and Grace marched up to his door and rang the bell.

“What are you doing?” whispered Emma, tugging on Grace’s arm in a vain attempt to pull her away.

“If by some chance Matthew is home, I would prefer to find out now, not by having him catch us knocking on these other doors.”

“What’ll you say if he answers?”

“That we came by to see how he was feeling.”

Emma giggled. “With a clipboard that says
Rand for CA.
That’ll go over well.”

“At least your mood has improved,” said Grace. “And since Matthew has not answered the doorbell, let’s get started.”

Grace rang the doorbell at the apartment directly across from Matt’s. The two women waited, one confidently and one less so, but no one answered. Grace rang again but no one came. She made a note on her clipboard and led Emma up the stairs.

“What are you writing?”

“I want to make sure we speak to everyone so I’m keeping track.”

“Good idea,” said Emma as she rang the bell. This time, they heard movement inside. The curtains parted and a man opened the window next to the door. He was wearing a dirty, white undershirt and his dark hair looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. “Whatever yer sellin’ I don’ want any.”

Grace smiled broadly at the man, who glared back at her. “Good morning! I’m sorry to disturb you. We aren’t selling anything. We’re here for the Jake Rand campaign, speaking with voters about the County Attorney race.”

The man looked them over and Emma felt her skin crawl. “I don’ wanna talk to no politicians neither.”

“I’m Emma Rand.” Emma tried to match Grace’s cheerful demeanor, but what she wanted to do was grab her hand and run away. “It’s my husband who is running for County Attorney.”

The man’s face disappeared from the window and Emma heard the sound of tobacco juice being spit into a tin can. Nauseated, she looked at Grace who was looking slightly green. They waited, but the man did not reappear.

“Should I ring the bell again?” whispered Emma.

“I think not.” Grace made a note on her clipboard and moved to the fourth apartment. Here the door was answered by a woman, with a toddler clutching her leg and looking up at them. If the woman spoke English, she decided not to demonstrate that skill when Emma told her why they were there. She just shook her head and shut the door.

“Well that was a bust,” said Emma as they walked back down the stairs. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“And maybe you’re giving up too soon. There are five other buildings. Let’s go.”

They rang the bells at the apartments in the buildings on either side of the one Matt lived in. Few doors opened. One woman gave them an earful about the abusive and corrupt legal system in Casper. Another ranted about politicians, and one simply yelled at them to go away.

They moved to the next row of buildings and worked methodically until in the building directly behind Matt’s, their patience was rewarded. A woman, who appeared to be close to Grace’s age, answered the door. When Emma explained why they were there, she was the first person who invited them to come inside.

“You two look tired to death,” she said as she led them to her small but comfortable living room. She insisted on making coffee for them and, when it was ready, she brought in two mugs and settled into her chair. “How long have you been at this?”

“Not very long,” Grace lied. “We want to make sure we speak with everyone we possibly can.”

“My, my. Such dedication. Well, I’m happy to help. What would you like to know?”

“As I told you, my husband is running for County Attorney.”

“You must be very proud.”

“I am, thank you. He’s a wonderful man. He really wants to know what voters like you would like to see in your next County Attorney.”

“Just about anyone would be better than the last one, dear.”

“That’s certainly true,” agreed Grace. “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask your name.”

“Cecily. CeCe to my friends.”

“Well, CeCe,” began Grace, stumbling over the nickname, “what quality do you think is most important in a County Attorney?”

“Honesty, but that’s a tall order for a politician.” She hooted at her joke. “You asked me, so I’ll tell you. I’d like to see them take people to trial instead of letting criminals off with a slap on the hand. That’s what we’re paying them to do, isn’t it?”

“My husband agrees that sometimes a case should be prosecuted, but sometimes justice is best served by a defendant pleading guilty. You can count on him to consider every case individually and make the decision he feels is best.”

Cecily studied Emma, then she took off her glasses, cleaned then with a tissue from the box on the table next to her chair. When she put them back on, she smiled. “I like you. You say what you mean, not what you think I want to hear. Is your hubby like that?’

“Oh believe me, Jake speaks his mind, regardless of what he thinks I want to hear.”

Cecily laughed, a great gully-washer of a laugh that proved infectious. When the three women finally stopped laughing, Grace asked Cecily if she were planning to vote in the primary in January.

“I’ve never missed an election in my life. When my Janie was born, I made Herbert stop on the way to the hospital so I could vote.” She laughed again, though not as raucously. “My water broke as I was handing in my ballot. You should have seen the looks I got, but John F. Kennedy got my vote that day. ‘Course, it didn’t matter. God Himself couldn’t get elected as a Democrat in Wyoming.”

Grace and Emma both laughed and Cecily smiled at them. “What’d you say your husband’s name was, dear?”

“Jake Rand.”

Cecily’s eyebrows flew up and her face flushed. “Is he here, too? Is he knocking on doors?”

“No, I’m sorry. He had to work today. He’s an attorney in private practice.”