Trouble in Mudbug (15 page)

Maryse stared at Helena as if she’d lost her mind. “Are you kidding me? I just got it yesterday. Do you really think even if I had absolutely nothing else to do at all that I would rush home, break open a bottle of bubbly, and read the Encyclopedia Inherita? Jeez, Helena, I appreciate you leaving me the land and all, more than you’ll ever know, but it’s not the only thing I have going on.”

Helena pursed her lips and stared silently at the dashboard. “I know you’ve had a lot thrown at you here lately, and you’re not going to want to hear this, but I think it’s really important that you understand all the rules. It’s been so long since I’ve gone over them, but I keep thinking there’s something I ought to remember.”

“And that’s why I’m on my way to meet with Wheeler. He should know everything about your inheritance, right?”

Helena shook her head, deep in thought. “Maybe. I hope so.”

Maryse pulled in front of the café and parked the car. “Well, he better, because I bet that book is longer than the Bible and just as hard to interpret. I’m not trying to slack off on my responsibilities, Helena. I want to make sure I maintain control of the preserve, but there’s no way I can finish something like that and even hope to understand it without some serious time and probably a translator.”

Helena sighed. “You’re probably right. That document is as old as the land and so is the language it was written in.”

“Finally, we agree,” Maryse said and hopped out of the car. “I’ll get the basics from Wheeler and fill in the blanks as time and brainpower allow.” She pushed the car door shut and walked a good five steps down the sidewalk when she heard Helena yelling.

“Damn it, Maryse,” the ghost shouted from inside the car. “You know I can’t open the door. I could suffocate in here.”

Maryse walked back to the car and opened the passenger door to allow the angry specter out. She wasn’t even in the mood to argue the suffocation comment and that whole “you’re already dead” thing. She shook her head as Helena climbed out of the car. “You have got to learn how to walk through walls, Helena. I am not going to squire a ghost around town. Do you have any idea how weird this would look if someone was watching?”

“About as weird as you talking to a car door,” Helena shot back, then huffed up the sidewalk to stand next to the café door.

Maryse steeled herself for her appointment, now complete with a ghost, and let them both into the café.

Wheeler was already there, perched in a booth in the corner and looking as out of place as a Coors Light distributor at a Southern Baptist convention. Maryse crossed the café, signaling to the waitress for a cup of coffee, and took a seat across from Wheeler, intentionally sitting too close to the edge to allow Helena to sit next to her. Helena glared, then took a seat next to Wheeler, who shivered for a moment, then looked across the café.

“Must be a draft in here,” Wheeler said.

“Probably,” Maryse agreed as the waitress slid a cup of steaming coffee in front of her for the second time that day. “I’m not trying to rush you or anything, Mr. Wheeler, and I really appreciate you coming all the way down here to talk to me, but if you don’t mind, could we go ahead and get started? I have a very busy day and not enough daylight to get everything done.”

Wheeler nodded. “Absolutely. This shouldn’t take too much time. The basics for the land ownership are very straightforward.”

“Really? Then why the enormous book?”

“The book is as old as dirt and written in circles. Plus, there are a lot of rules that simply don’t apply anymore. Things to do with rice farming and possible exceptions for owning herds of cattle. Things you would never consider in the first place.”

“Okay. Then give me the skinny.”

Wheeler looked at her for a moment, probably not having a clue what “the skinny” was exactly, but finally decided she must mean the rules. “Well, the first item is one I covered briefly yesterday—you can’t leave Mudbug for a period of one week, starting yesterday. If you take even a step outside the city limits and anyone has proof, the land will revert to the secondary heir.”

“And who is that?”

“Hank. There is really no other option.”

Maryse nodded, not really surprised. “And why this rule at all? I have to tell you, Wheeler, it sounds kinda weird.”

Wheeler cleared his throat. “I agree that it probably sounds a little strange in this day and age, but back when the rules were written, health care wasn’t what it is today and the country was at war. If a son inherited the land and was called off to war before he could decide on an heir and draw up the paperwork, his death might leave the estate in limbo indefinitely. And the state wasn’t exactly diligent in ensuring the proper family maintained their estates. A lot of property was simply stolen by the state or passed on to political supporters.”

“I see. So the one-week period is supposed to give me time to select an heir and have the paperwork drawn up so that the land can’t hang in limbo with the state deciding how to settle it.”

“Exactly. Selecting an heir is one of the first things I need you to address. Since you don’t have children, you’re not limited by the trust in any way as to who you chose, except that it has to be an individual and not a corporation.” Wheeler paused for a moment. “You know, now that I think about it, you’re the first person outside of the bloodline to inherit the land. Amazing it was held that way for so long.”

“That is rather odd,” Maryse agreed. “Why hasn’t anyone sold it before now? Surely there have been offers, and I’m willing to bet that in a hundred years someone needed the money, even if Helena didn’t.”

“The land is held by the trust, not really the individual. The person who inherits gets limited control of the land and is the beneficiary of any income received off the land.”

“And the trust doesn’t allow for the sale of the land.” Maryse felt the light bulb come on. “So then why would it matter who inherited at all?”

“Well, the original trust documents were prepared long before anyone considered the possibility that companies and individuals might enter into long-term leases, essentially giving the same benefits to the lessee as buying. Helena felt you wouldn’t entertain those sort of offers, so she selected you.”

“Lucky me,” Maryse said, and smiled. “So you need me to select an heir, and it can be anyone I want, unless I have kids at some point and then things have to change. Is that the gist of it?”

“That’s correct. If you have no objection, I’ll be happy to draw up that paperwork for you as soon as you give me a name.”

Maryse pulled a pen from her pocket and proceeded to write Sabine’s name on a napkin. She pushed the napkin across the table to Wheeler. “I know it’s not very official, but I figure you just need the name, right?”

Wheeler folded the napkin and placed it in his suit pocket. “That will do. I’ll draw the papers up and make sure to get them signed and filed before the end of the one-week period. From that point forward, if anything were to happen to you, the land will be safe and secure in the hands you’ve selected.”

Maryse straightened in her seat and stared at Wheeler. “From that point forward?” She narrowed her eyes. “So God forbid, something happens to me in the next week, what happens to the land?”

“It passes to the next heir—Hank.”

“That’s it,” Helena shouted and jumped up from her booth. “That’s the part I couldn’t remember that I thought was important.”

Maryse stared at Wheeler in dismay. “You’re telling me I have to outlive Helena by a week or the land goes to Hank, no questions asked?”

Wheeler nodded.

“Unbelievable. And it never occurred to anyone that this rule might leave the first to inherit with a much shorter life span than originally intended?”

Wheeler shook his head. “I don’t think they were thinking in those terms. It was simply a different world back then. And while I understand your concern, I really don’t think you have a lot to worry about. Certainly, it’s possible the land could be worth a good bit of money to developers at some point, but that’s not the case at the moment. The state is the only interested party as things stand right now. Ten, twenty years down the road, things could change, especially if New Orleans continues to push its boundaries, but what you’re suggesting is an awfully big risk for a payoff that might not even happen in a person’s lifetime.”

“But you said the land was Helena’s most valuable asset.”

Wheeler nodded. “Sentimentally, it was, and as I said, long-term the land will probably be worth more than any of us can imagine.”

“I guess you’re right,” Maryse said, but one look at the pensive Helena, and Maryse wondered if there was something that Wheeler didn’t know. Something that Maryse didn’t want to know. “Is there anything else?”

Wheeler pulled some documents from a folder on the table. “I need some signatures for the paperwork for the state to ensure they make the check out to you rather than Helena, and there’s a couple other documents needing signature…mostly just legal posturing, but required nonetheless.”

Maryse pulled the stack of paperwork over toward her and spent the next fifteen minutes signing her name as Wheeler pointed out the correct spots. Finally, she passed the last document back to Wheeler, who placed them all neatly back in his folder. “Well,” Maryse said, “if that’s everything, I guess I’ll be on my way.”

Wheeler nodded and rose from the booth. As Maryse rose, he extended his hand. “Thank you for meeting me this morning, Ms. Robicheaux. I’ll call as soon as I have those papers ready for your signature. I can meet you here again if that’s convenient.”

“That’s fine,” Maryse said, and shook Wheeler’s hand. “Just let me know.” She turned from the booth and left the cafe, Helena trailing behind her. Maryse loitered a bit on the sidewalk, waiting for Wheeler to leave. She needed to talk to Helena and wasn’t about to give the ghost a ride again. Hanging out with Helena all day simply wasn’t on her list of things to do. Finally, Wheeler made it to his ancient Cadillac and pulled away.

Maryse glanced inside the café to make sure no one was looking and turned her back to the huge picture glass. “Okay, Helena, spill it,” she said. “You’ve got this pained look on your face, and I have the bad feeling that you’re about to say something else I’m not going to like.”

Helena lowered her eyes and shuffled her feet. “I’m just concerned about the one-week clause. That’s all.”

Maryse stared at her. “Why? You heard Wheeler. It’d be too risky for Hank or Harold to try anything when the land isn’t really worth much right now.”

Helena bit her lower lip and raised her head to Maryse. “You remember that envelope I had you look for in my safe? The one that was missing?”

Maryse nodded. “How could I forget?”

“Well, it had some documents from a survey of the land.”

Maryse closed her eyes in frustration. “So what did it say, Helena? Where are you going with this?”

Helena clenched her hands together and stared at Maryse. “It might have said that the preserve was full of oil.”

“What!” Maryse cried, then glanced around making sure no one had seen her yelling into empty space. “Oil? Exactly how much oil might that letter have said was in the preserve?”

“It might have said there was billions of dollars worth…”

Maryse stared at Helena, horrified. “Billions, as in I don’t even know how many zeros, billions?” Maryse felt a flush rise to her face. “Jesus Christ, Helena! You heard Harold threaten me at Wheeler’s office. He probably took that letter before the will reading. He expected Hank to inherit the land. That’s why he’s so mad.”

“Now, let’s not get excited.”

“Excited? Are you crazy? You’ve made me a moving target. One without a lot of places to hide given that I can’t leave Mudbug. Do you really think Harold wouldn’t take a shot at me over billions of dollars? He may be lazy, but he’s not that lazy.”