45
Inheritance
ELOISE
Maeve leaves just as the sun breaks the horizon. After a stiff cup of coffee and a slice of toast, I shuffle down to the art studio to see if I have any cleaning to do. Maeve told me that Damien disposed of Tony’s body, but I am pleasantly surprised to find he’s done more than that. There isn’t a trace of blood left behind, not even on my mother’s sculpture, which has returned to its original shape and position. The entire studio is spotless and smells faintly of bleach. “Thank you, Damien,” I mutter. I’m not sure what I’d do if I had to clean it up myself. Just the thought gives me chills.
Hesitantly, I stride to the picture I’d painted of my family, then examine my brushes. He’s cleaned those, too, and returned them to the cup I keep them in. My palette knife is gone, though, the one I stabbed Tony with. I’m thankful for that too. No way would I have used it again after what happened, not to mention, it might carry Tony’sDNA. Shit, that’s two men dead in as many days in this house. A shiver runs through me.
Satisfied that there’s nothing left to do, I find myself standing at the foot of the narrow back stairway that leads to the attic. I’ve never been up there before. My stomach flutters with nerves to think of what I might find. Another part of me fears I won’t find anything. That would be the worst. It would mean my dream about my family wasn’t real. I desperately want it to be real.
The old wood creaks as I climb by the light of a single bare bulb above my head. The door isn’t locked, and I step through it expecting a dusty, neglected space crammed with the cast aside relics of my ancestors. What I find is a tidy room with sloping walls lined with shelves of books and baskets of trinkets and herbs. The floor is strange, painted matte black, like a chalkboard. At the room’s center is a worktable, and in the corner sits a plush red velvet chair next to a side table bearing a small reading lamp.
After a cursory inspection of the shelves, I find an entire wall of journals. Some bound in leather worn soft from use, others simple composition notebooks. My mother told me in my dream I could find what I need to know about my tattoo up here, but where do I start?
I run my finger along the spines until a dull thud calls my attention toward the chair. A large, purple bound book the size of the Oxford dictionary sits on the table next to the chair. I’m sure that wasn’t there before. I creep toward it, the hair on the back of my neck starting to rise. My breath catches when I see the cover. My tattoo is embossed in the leather, the gold foil key shape winking at me. Slowly, I reach for the book.
I jump when the sound of the doorbell ringing comes through the floorboards. Who could that be?I leave the book where it is and jog down two flights of steps to the main floor. A quick peek out my kitchen window gives me my answer. A man in a gray uniform stands on my stoop, a truck with an A+ Windows and Siding logo in my driveway. I hurry to the foyer and open the door.
“I’m Bob. Mrs. Maples sent me to fix your sidelight window.” He glances disapprovingly at my plastic wrap and duct tape situation.
“Thanks for coming so quickly. As you can see, this is not an ideal solution.”
“Nope. But I’ll get you fixed up.”
He hasn’t even made it to his truck for supplies when Marilyn Maples herself pulls up in her Lexus SUV, dressed in a sharp gray suit and carrying a briefcase. She waves at me from the drive and yells, “I hope this is a good time, Ms. Harcourt.”
I nod. Grams’s life insurance policy. She told me she’d left me something to help maintain the property, and Lord knows I’ll need it. It’s going to take me a while to get on full-time with the district, and although I’m painting again and have some ideas for commercial work, it will take at least a few years to build an arts business, even leveraging my mother’s name.
“Come on in. Would you like something to drink?”
Marilyn smooths her hair. “No, that’s all right. This shouldn’t take long. I have your check. I just need you to sign a few forms.”
We set up in the kitchen, and she hands me a stack of papers, rattling off what they are so quickly I barely glean that they are my legal acceptance of the payout of Grams’s life policy.
“We normally do this type of thing electronically these days, but your grandmother specifically requested I pay youby check. She told me you’re going through a messy divorce. I’ve been there myself. This way, you can decide exactly where you want to deposit this and when. Maybe wait until all your banking mess is straightened out.”
Will everything be straightened out now that Tony is dead? Does it even matter what I do with the check anymore? I try to look as normal as possible as I say, “Our court date is Friday. Everything should be finalized then.”
“Glad to hear it. Love can be better the second time around. Trust me on this.” She holds up her left hand and thumbs the massive diamond ring she’s wearing. “You’ll be okay. Your grandmother made sure of that.”
Gramshadmade sure of it. All the life lessons she taught me have made me who I am. “Right. Of course.”
“So, here you go. This should help you make a fresh start.” She pulls a check from a business-sized envelope and slides it across the table to me.
I read the amount and choke on my tongue. Through a fit of coughing, I try to wrap my head around what I’m seeing. “This is for a million dollars!”
Marilyn nods. “Nora loved you so much, Eloise. She took this out right after your parents died. Wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Again, I’m so sorry. She was one of my favorite people.”
She puts all the papers back in her attaché case and stands, holding out a hand to me. I shake it, still dazed by the amount of money in my hands. I had no idea Grams was leaving me this much. I wipe under my eyes as I picture her smile and know she’s laughing on that porch in the next world. She would have loved seeing me speechless.
I rise from the table and follow Marilyn to the door where Bob is just finishing up with my sidelight window. But before she leaves, she turns to me and holdsup a finger. “Oh, Eloise, if I can make a suggestion, you may want to spend some of that money on a security system for this place, given recent events.”
“I’m sure it was an isolated incident.” I gesture toward the new window. “Grams never had any problems with crime here.”
Marilyn places a hand on her throat. “I’m not talking about the window, dear. Haven’t you heard? There was a massacre just up the river from you last night.” She lowers her voice. “Three people dead in what appeared to be mob-related violence. The FBI is investigating, but whoever did the deed burned the bodies. They’re bringing in forensic scientists to determine the identities of the victims.”
I gulp. “Maybe I will invest in a security system.”
