“No, he didn’t.”
“Mr. Eads,” I asked, “what are you trying to tell me?”
“I’m letting you know, Vee, that when the dust settles, it will be clear to everyone that Reid left everything to you.”
I opened my eyes wider. “Everything?” Lifting my chin, I looked over the brick driveway, the fountain, and the expansive manicured lawn. “The house and property?”
Mr. Eads nodded. “Again, after your mother, he was skeptical. Recently, he realized that Daphne wasn’t Olivia. He wanted Daphne to be taken care of and the Marshes to have a stake in the Coopers.”
“What are you suggesting is done?”
“I think you should consider honoring his wishes. I’ll be happy to show you the drafted will.”
“The one Dad didn’t sign?”
“Well, yes.”
“Mr. Eads, first, I’ll put my father to rest. Next, I will do whatever is possible to keep the Coopers the successful franchise my father led. Dealing with his vast estate and desires will have to wait.”
“Daphne?”
“She won’t be evicted. I have no desire to live in this house ever again.”
“As your property, you will be responsible for taxes and maintenance.”
“I’m going to say this in a way that I hope you understand. My father is dead. I do not wish to deal with any of these matters in the immediate future. If you are unable to represent me and my best interests, I’ll seek my own counsel.”
“Vee, I’ve known you since you were a child. Of course I want what’s best for you. I also want what your father would want.”
“If Dad truly wanted his will changed after over twenty years, he would have done it. Good night.” I turned and walked to my car, my heels clipping the brick pavers.
Slamming my car door, I pushed the ignition button. The interior filled with music as I looked down at my phone. My temples throbbed at the long list of missed calls and text messages—Emma from college. I rolled my eyes at Preston’s name. Unwilling to tackle the feat, I tossed my phone into my bag.
My car contained a transponder to open and close the gate at the end of the long driveway. As I approached, I saw the crowd gathered outside the gate. A Fayette County Sheriff’s car was stationed outside. As the gate began to open, a deputy stepped onto the property.
I lowered the music and rolled down my window.
“Ma’am,” the deputy said, stepping closer.
“Thank you for being here. Do we need to contract private security?”
“Our orders are to watch Mr. Hubbard’s home until after the funeral.”
“Thank you,” I said again. “Do you know if the stadium, football center, or my condominium are being watched?”
The crowd beyond the gate was yelling questions.
“Those properties are within Lexington proper. They would be monitored by the Lexington Police Department.”
“I’ll find out,” I said. “Thank you. More people will be leaving shortly.”
He tipped his hat. “Sorry for your loss, ma’am.”
Nodding, I closed my window. The deputy stepped outside the gate, pushing the people away, and giving me a clear road to escape. I quickly called Uncle Darin and asked him to warn the others about the crowd of reporters.
About ten minutes from home, my phone rang. Fin’s name was on the dashboard screen. Hitting the green icon, I spoke, “I’m almost home.”
“Vee, I think you should come to my place.”
