“If you don’t mind my asking,” Jules said, “well, Devonshire Senior wrote a note to you that he included in his will and... Have you seen it?”
“No.” Mick had mentioned a note and she’d forgotten about it in the ensuing chaos.
Jules put down the coffee mug and took out his phone, scrolling through it before handing it to her.
On his phone’s screen was a photograph of a handwritten note. She zoomed in to read it and...
“Oh, my God, what an asshole,” Emily said. She scrolled back to the top of the note, but... “There’s no date on this.” She looked up at Jules.
He nodded as he sipped his coffee. “The will was revised to name you as heir around five years ago. The consensus is Milt the Senior wrote this at the same time.”
“Right after I went to see him,” Emily said. She read the note again.
Thanks for the new experience, Emily.
Oh, except this document I’ve just signed makes it the same old-same old, doesn’t it? Money. It’s always about more money.
“I told him who I was,” she told Jules. “He didn’t recognize my name, but he knew my mother’s, and he immediately assumed I was there to, I don’t know, extort him, I guess? I told him—emphatically—that I didn’t want his money, I just wanted to meet him. I really wanted to meet his son—God, how stupid was I? But he was right, wasn’t he? It’salwaysabout money.” She handed him back his phone, fighting the urge to dissolve into tears. “If Mick’s involved with Harper and the cop?—”
“Former cop,” Jules interjected.
“—it’s because of this money,” Emily said. “The twenty million that I didn’t ask for. God, I’m pretty sure Mick figured out he could keep his inheritance by marrying me.”
Except, as he’d pointed out earlier,she’dproposed to him. If marriage was something Mick wanted so badly, why hadn’t he jumped on top of her suggestion and immediately rushed her up to Vegas to the Golden Chapel or some other handy-dandy wedding venue? God, her head ached and her back was sore from where Mick had pushed her onto the sidewalk to save her life.
No doubt about it, hehadsaved her life.
It didn’t make sense. None of this did.
“I... really don’t think marrying you to get your inheritance was Mick’s goal,” Jules said, his brown eyes steady. “Imean, it’s true that he hasn’t exactly been honest about much of anything. He actually wore a disguise to the meeting we had with him at the lawyer’s office where he used his old name, but... Up until a few minutes ago, I was convinced that that was because he was hiding from Harper, not us. Now, since he left, I honestly don’t know. But one thing Idoknow from his financial records—and he was completely open about giving us access to everything, so that’s a point in his favor—he got a five million dollar pay-out—a gift, according to tax records, from Milt the Senior, and... He gave nearly half of it to you.”
Emily had to step back and lean against the kitchen counter. Her mouth had dropped open, so she closed it and said, “What? No! When? I’m sorry, what makes you think...?”
“And... you don’t know about this,” Jules said. “Okay. Well, you were probably—” he scrunched up his face “—sixteen-ish at the time? The check was in your grandfather’s name, as your custodian. It was for two million dollars. Are the records wrong? Did thatnotgo to you?”
“Two million,” Emily whispered as she realized... “He told me—my grandfather told me—that money was from my mother’s life insurance policy. That I was her beneficiary.” The two million dollars that had changed all of their lives, that had paid for her education, bought her little house, left her with the means to work for herself at a job that she loved... had come from Mick’s deal with his devil of a father...?
She replayed the conversation she’d had with Mick downtown, right before he’d saved her life. He’d told her that his father had named her in his will. And she’d heard him telling Jules and the cowboy, what was his name, Sam, that he’d gone to see her grandfather. He’d told her he’d been to herhouseseveraltimes—one of them being that afternoon she remembered meeting him in the driveway while she practiced her layups.
Mick had been also adamant about the fact that her grandfather had flatly refused to sue Milt Devonshire—to drag his battered family into court to relive the pain of her mother’s death. So why would he go back—if not to give her grandfather that enormous check?
Emily was so confused. “If he doesn’t want this inheritance,” she asked Jules, “whatdoeshe want?”
“And why did he leave,” Jules said. “Is it possible he started out working with Harper and Spencer? Then maybe became... attached...? To you? But see, if hewaspart of the fraud scam from the start, he wouldn’t have had to hide behind his old name at the meeting with Harper, so no. I’m not buying that.”
“There’s no way he would’ve worked with them,” Emily said. “I mean, I really don’t think so. I mean, yes, I know he’s a liar and maybe this is just another of his lies, but he told us they tried to kill him—back when he was seventeen. After he pled guilty. He said he went into his father’s office—that big library room at Devonshire Place—and there was a loaded gun on the desk. He thinks—and if he’s being honest, I hundred percent agree—that was an invitation for him to use it. On himself. To make everyone else’s life much easier, he said. But he didn’t.” Her voice shook as she told Jules, “He told me, right before he left, that he could fix this. That he’d make sure I was safe—which I thinkhethinks will happen if he’s dead. I think he’s going back to the hotel to confront them—the men who shot at us. I think... I’m afraid...” She had to stop and take a deep breath before she could say it, but then she didn’t have to because Jules said it for her.
“You think he’s ready, figuratively, to pick up that gun,” he said quietly, “and makeyourlife easier.”
Emily nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m still so mad at him,” she whispered. “But I don’t want him to die.”
“Okay,” Jules said, putting his mug down on the counter. “Then, let’s tell him that. I bet if you call him, he’ll pick up and no—you already told us you don’t have your phone.” He raised his voice. “Hobbit, I need you in the kitchen! Can we borrow your phone?”
“Of course, my liege!” Kevin shouted from the back of the house.
Jules smiled at Emily. “I want to leave my line open—I’ve got a team of operatives doing a little excavation work in the Devonshire Place gardens, which is a whole boatload of additional crazy that you’re not going to believe. I expect to hear from them soon, at which point—” His phone made a swooshing noise, and he glanced at it and laughed. “Well, okay, looks likesoonisnowso...”
Kevin—Hobbit—appeared, with Sam and Rod right behind him. “House is secure,” Sam reported.
