Too Far Under (32 page)

My curiosity and my desire to help were
strong. I did want to meet with them, but I was very worried about
violating Derrick and Judith’s strict instructions not to see
Angelica again—especially at my office. I made what seemed at the
time like a smart compromise, but was actually a rash decision. I
said I would meet them at my house.

They showed up at 1:30, both looking worried
and tired. I welcomed them into my kitchen, where I had laid out
some muffins and fruit that I had picked up on my way home. Once
Lacey and I were settled with coffee and Angelica with some
lemonade, I asked Lacey to tell me as much as she could remember of
what Glenna had said about the new will.

She closed her eyes briefly in thought, then
began. “Apparently Grandad left his house and all its contents to
Glenna. When she was cleaning out his office on Friday, she found
several boxes stuffed with legal papers. For some reason, she
decided to look through them before she took them to the lawyer
handling Grandad’s estate. And she found Mom’s new will in one of
the boxes.”

“Amazing! Did she say whether she already
knew your Mom had made a new will or whether finding it was a big
shock?”

Lacey grimaced. “She said she didn’t know
anything about it. But I have no idea whether or not that’s true.
She can be cagey.”

“Did she have any idea why your grandfather
had kept the new will secret and told everyone your mom didn’t make
a new will?”

“She said she didn’t know. But she said
Grandad was much more forgetful than any of us knew—had big
problems finding things around the house, forgot people’s names and
how he knew them, and sometimes got lost driving right here in
Boulder. He was good at covering up so other people didn’t notice.
She said she urged him to get an evaluation of his memory, but he
refused. She also said she tried to get him to cut down on his
drinking because he was much more forgetful when he was drinking.
But he said drinking as much as he wanted was one of the pleasures
he’d earned after working hard all his life.”

“So Glenna thinks Vernon forgot your mom made
a new will?”

“Right. The new will is dated in June of this
year—only a couple of months before Mom died. So you’d think he
would have remembered. But Glenna said his forgetfulness had been
getting much worse this spring and summer, and he forgot recent
things more than longer-ago ones.”

I could actually believe that Vernon Evers
could have forgotten having drawn up his own daughter’s new will.
Having lived with Gramma’s Alzheimer’s for years, I knew quite a
bit about short-term memory loss and how people who have it can be
much worse than they seem. And when they start to notice their
forgetfulness, they learn ways to cover up. It sounded very
believable to me that a powerful man like Vernon Evers wouldn’t
want anyone to know how forgetful he was. Glenna knew what he was
like day-to-day a lot better than we did. If she thought he’d
forgotten making Mirabel’s new will, it was likely she was
right.

“We’ll probably never know why he didn’t
bring out the new will,” I said. “But whatever his reason was,
Glenna doesn’t seem to have any reason to lie about it. What I
don’t understand is why after she found the will she decided to
give it to you instead of your Dad and told you not to say anything
about it to anyone except Angelica.”

“She said Dad and Shane had been accusing
Grandad of not remembering and he was furious about that. Grandad
was mad at Dad anyway for moving Judith into our house, and he was
disgusted with Shane’s lifestyle—thought he was a slacker. They
knew Grandad was angry with them and they weren’t getting along
with him. Glenna figured that if she told them about the will,
they’d be saying they were right all along about his memory. She
accepts they’ll have to know about the will soon, but she said
they’ve never liked her and they treat her like a whore. She
detests them both and she didn’t want to deal with them or have to
discuss Grandad’s memory problems at his funeral. So she gave it to
me and asked me not to tell anyone until after the funeral.”

Angelica had been quietly eating a pear and a
raspberry muffin while Lacey was talking. I wanted to get her into
the conversation, so I asked, “Angelica, what do you think is
harmful in the new will?”

“One thing is that in this will, Dad gets
most of the money. He talked her into that. I know because I heard
their arguments. Mom told him she had written him out of her will
except for what she had to give him under Colorado law And she told
him she was thinking of getting a divorce. Dad kept begging her to
reconsider, told her he had given up Judith. After a while she
believed him and told him she would stay with him and that she had
made a new will. But he was lying. He never gave up Judith and he
never planned to.”

“I guess that’s what your grandfather
thought, too,” I said. “But this will is a legal document. Even if
your mother made a mistake, we can’t keep it a secret now that we
have it.”

“That’s what I think, too,” Lacey said. “Plus
in the new will Mom disinherited the Scientologists. If we don’t
turn it in, they’ll get money Mom didn’t want them to have.”

Angelica put her hand on Lacey’s arm and
spoke slowly and clearly. “But if we do turn it in, Judith will get
money Mom didn’t want her to have. We may not like the
Scientologists, but they did help Mom when she needed help, which
is more than Dad did. And all Judith ever did was hurt her.”
Angelica paused, staring into space. Then she said, “There’s also
Faye Whitton to think about.”

“What about Faye?” I asked

“She said some very bad things in the will
about Faye and the way she manages the West End Gallery. Mom said
Faye had been warned but she hadn’t changed so Mom was no longer
leaving her the gallery. I think they weren’t getting along lately,
but I don’t think Faye deserved that.

I turned to Lacey. “What’s that about?”

“Mom said in the will that …”

“All of you sit right where you are and put
that will at the end of the table,” a loud male voice demanded.
Brian stood in the kitchen doorway pointing a gun at us.

I jumped up and confronted him, trying to
sound confident, despite my pounding heart. “Brian, what are you
doing? How did you get in?”

“You left the front door open,” he sneered,
“so I just walked in. Get back in your chair, Cleo. I’m here for
the will.” Keeping the gun carefully trained on us with his right
hand, he walked up to the table, used his left hand to push me down
into my chair and then to grab the will.

Lacey had begun to cry, but Angelica sat
stoically, observing him. Sweat trickled down my chest. What had I
done? Not only had I allowed Angelica to come to my house against
Derrick and Judith’s orders, I had gotten her into a
life-threatening situation. I had to take charge.

“How did you know about the will?” I
demanded.

“Don’t be naïve, Cleo. Do you think we leave
this sort of thing to chance? I’ve had your cell phone tapped for
weeks.”

Huh? “How did you get hold of my cell
phone?”

“I didn’t have to do anything to your cell
phone. I have software installed on my phone that lets me see who
you call and who calls you. I can listen in to all your
conversations. Most of them are pretty boring, but I hit the
jackpot today.”

Brian never took his eyes off us as he put
the will in his pocket, reached down into a bag he had dropped on
the floor next to his feet, and pulled out several long pieces of
rope and tossed them on the table. “Stand up, Cleo,” he barked. I
stood. He motioned at Lacey and said, “Put your arms together and
hold them out in front of you.” She complied. “Okay, Cleo, take one
of those pieces of rope and wrap them tightly around her arms
several times and then tie it so she can’t get loose.”

My gut was churning and I felt dizzy with
fear, but I stayed put. Did not pick up the rope. He couldn’t be
serious about shooting us. If I refused to cooperate, maybe he’d
take the will and leave. “Brian, you don’t have to do this. You
have the will. Isn’t that enough?”

He took a half step in my direction. “Shut
up, Cleo and do what I say or I’ll shoot you in the foot.” He
pointed his gun at my right foot. Looks like his new level of
spiritual awareness doesn’t stop him from inflicting pain and
suffering.

“Okay, you don’t have to get violent. I’ll do
what you say.” I reached for a piece of rope, walked over to
Lacey’s chair and bound her arms together. She sobbed and twitched,
but didn’t say anything. Brian watched closely to make sure I was
tying her arms tight.

“Now the kid,” he said pointing at Angelica.
I picked up another piece of rope and turned to Angelica. I touched
her shoulder softly to reassure her before I tied her arms. She sat
quietly gazing intently at Brian the whole time.

Brian matched her stare. “What are you
looking at?” he demanded.

“Your aura,” she said. “It’s a muddy forest
green. That’s a sign of jealousy, resentment, insecurity, low
self-esteem, and feeling like you’re a victim.”

This guy is pointing a gun at us and she’s
making derogatory comments about his aura? “Angelica, I don’t think
he really wants to hear this right now,” I said, hoping she’d take
the suggestion and let it go.

Brian clenched his jaw, but didn’t answer her
or respond in any way. Instead he turned to me. “Back to your
chair, Cleo,” he said, pointing to where I had been sitting across
the table. I walked over there and sat. Brian put his gun in his
pocket, picked up a piece of rope and headed toward me. I knew the
drill and could see no point in resisting. I held out my arms. I
did try to leave a gap between my arms, but he wrapped the rope so
tightly that it not only pulled them together, it burned my skin. I
didn’t flinch. No way was I going to give him the satisfaction.

He checked and tightened the rope on both
Lacey’s and Angelica’s arms. Then he returned to the head of the
table, took the will and the gun out of his pocket, put it on the
table in front of him, and sat down. “I’m going to read this will,”
he said. “You can all watch my aura or whatever. Just sit quietly
and don’t bother me.”

As he read his face flushed, his nostrils
flared, and his arms and shoulders tensed. As I watched his anger
build, I desperately tried to figure out how we could possibly
escape. Maybe if we all tipped over our chairs at once, he’d be so
distracted one of us could kick him while one of us scooted her
chair to where a knife would be within reach. But that would take
planning and coordinating our actions, which there was no way to
do. And realistically our arms were tied too tightly to grab a
knife and use it. Maybe if we all screamed at once, someone would
hear us, but my house is thick stone and not really close to any
other houses, so that wasn’t likely to work. Plus, he’d probably
shoot us if we screamed.

He looked up at me as if he could hear my
thoughts. “You can stop worrying,” he said. “I’m not planning to
shoot you. My interest is in preserving the Church of Scientology’s
inheritance by destroying this will.” He snatched up the will and
ripped it in half. Then he stomped over to my gas stove, lit a
burner and touched the will to the flame. With a flourish, he
tossed the burning document into the sink and smirked as it turned
to ashes.

“No! Stop! You can’t do that!” Lacey
screamed. “That’s a legal document. Destroying it is a crime.”

What was she thinking screaming at him like
that? Just because he said he wasn’t going to shoot us didn’t mean
he wouldn’t. And he clearly wasn’t concerned about committing a
crime.

But now that he had destroyed the will, his
anger had turned to gloating. “How are you going to prove I
destroyed anything—or even that there was a new will?” he sneered.
“No one has seen it but you three—a strange kid and a couple of
women who talk to spirits—and Glenna Corn, a seductress who preys
on old men. I doubt any of you would convince the police. Even
Cleo’s annoying boyfriend thinks you three are deluded.”

I hated to admit it, but he might be right.
It would be hard to prove what he had done. Brian always was an
accomplished liar who knew how to cover his tracks.

Angelica glowered at him. “You are caught in
a tide of evil,” she said. “You act in darkness, which prevents
your spiritual growth. Evil opposes the life force, kills human
life or the human spirit. I believe you killed my mother so the
Scientologists could get her money.”

Brain gave her a surprised look. Then he
launched into a lecture. “You know nothing about human life or the
human spirit or spiritual growth,” he said, patronizingly. “Humans
are immortal spiritual entities who have fallen into a degraded
state as a result of past-life experiences. Through Scientology we
become free of our past-life traumas and recover past-life memory,
leading to a higher state of spiritual awareness. Your mother
understood that. But then she filled her body with toxic
substances, left Scientology, and went back on her promises to us.
She had to be stopped. As far as the church goes, I could have
killed your mother with no spiritual consequences. A Scientologist
can ethically trick, lie to, or destroy a critic or former member
who is considered a suppressive person.”

This sounded like a load of bullshit to me. I
knew I should keep my mouth shut, but somehow I heard myself
speaking out. “The police and the courts don’t care about
Scientology rules,” I said. “You can’t just kill someone and have
no consequences.”

“But I didn’t kill her,” Brian said. “She is
responsible for her own death. She died because the toxic
substances in her body dulled her awareness and blocked her mental
alertness so that she slipped under the water and drowned.”