“Yes,” she said defiantly. “We—our relationship—was the real reason Reid hadn’t signed the new will. He didn’t want to leave anything to her. He wanted it to go to me.”
I blinked repeatedly, as if it would make everything clear. “To you?”
“Not everything. He promised ten percent.”
My eyes opened wider. That was the amount he’d told me was for Daphne.
She sweetened her tone. “He wasn’t going to leave you or the Marshes out. Reid would never do that.”
This was unexpected, too much, more than I wanted to handle at the moment. I straightened my neck. “You’re right, Bre.”
“I am?”
“Yes.” I motioned toward the open doors to Dad’s office. “Clean it out.” My tone became colder, nearing freezing. “All of it. Everything and anything that incriminates you or Dad. Take it home. Burn it. I don’t care what you do with it. I want it all gone by tomorrow.”
“I-I” —she was crying again— “I can’t believe he’s really gone.”
My sympathy was reserved for those people who deserved it. While I didn’t always consider Daphne as a part of that group, I never thought of Bre Stanton in that way.
“Please don’t attend the service next Tuesday.”
“What?” She opened her eyes. “I have to be there. I must get the chance to tell him goodbye.”
“You’re uninvited,” I said as I turned and left Bre alone with her own mess.
It wasn’t until I was in the rental car that I screamed. No words, only a bloodcurdling scream coming from deep in my chest. I grimaced as I pounded the steering wheel with the butt of my hands. My throat was raw as I spoke to no one. “Dad, what the actual fuck? What other secrets did you have? What other bombshells are going to surface?”
Turning on the car, I connected my telephone and adjusted the seat and mirrors. The evening sky was beginning to darken. Crimsons and purples erupted like an old lava lamp over the horizon as I made my way out of the football center’s parking lot. The Coopers’ security guard was still in place.
“Good night, Ms. Hubbard.”
“Good night.” I rolled up the window, observing that there were fewer news vans and reporters than there had been this morning.
I called Aunt Rachel.
She answered on the third ring. “Vee, is everything okay?”
A scoff came from my lips. “No, but that’s not why I’m calling.” Earlier today we discussed traveling to Las Vegas. “I’ve decided we can take the Gulfstream to Las Vegas on Saturday morning.”
“Oh, honey. Darin and I talked about it. We planned to take it on Friday just like Reid had planned. It is Vegas after all. We thought we deserved some fun.”
“The family plane is not flying twice. I have too much to do here to leave on Friday.” I would think she did too. “If you and Uncle Darin want to go on Friday, book a commercial flight. The Hubbard plane is flying Saturday morning.” I didn’t wait for a response as I disconnected the call.
I spoke to the car. “Call Tony Witkoff.” Tony was the Coopers’ head pilot.
“Calling Tony Witkoff,” the car said.
“Ms. Hubbard,” Tony said upon answering. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m calling to let you know I’ve decided to fly to Las Vegas on Saturday morning. I can be at the airport by nine. From what Coach Tilson told me, that will be around the time the team is leaving.”
“I spoke to Robert” —another pilot— “and he said the team will be leaving at ten.”
“That will work. We’ll get there first.”
“Ms. Hubbard?”
“Yes?” I answered.
