Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Southern Sewing Circle 08 - Remnants of Murder (30 page)

• • •

She hung up the phone, rested her head against
her pillow, and waited for the jubilation she’d expected to feel at the news of Beau Montgomery’s arrest. Thanks to her shared suspicions, the medical examiner’s agreement that arsenic could, in fact, be administered via tea, and the chief’s eagerness to close the case, the hunt for Clyde’s killer was finally over, his perpetrator behind bars where he belonged, proclaiming his innocence like all good killers did.

For the first time in a very long time, Tori would finally be able to focus her complete attention on her upcoming wedding to Milo without the interruption of book festivals, holiday events, and murder investigations.

It was what she’d been waiting for ever since she agreed to help Dixie.

Yet now that it was there, she felt nothing. No elation. No sense of accomplishment. No nothing.

A ninety-one-year-old man, who was probably only a few years away from dying anyway, had been forced from his beloved home prematurely. And why? To push through a sale that could have been made just as easily when the man passed away by natural causes sometime in the not too distant future.

It made no sense. Beau Montgomery wasn’t struggling financially. He wasn’t rolling in money, but he wasn’t destitute, either.

And now, rather than enjoy the inheritance that would have been his in a few years anyway, he’d be behind bars—void of the land
and
the money.

“Stupid, stupid greed,” she said aloud, her words echoing off the walls of her bedroom as she reached for her cell phone and the lift she knew Milo’s voice would provide. But before she could punch in Milo’s number, the phone began to vibrate in her hand.

For a moment, she considered sending the unfamiliar number straight to voice mail, but gave in and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Is this Victoria?”

She tried to place the voice but to no avail. “Who’s calling?”

“This is Kate. Kate Loggins. Margaret Louise’s friend.”

Closing her eyes, she willed herself to find the last scrap of energy she could muster. “I take it you heard?”

A long sigh filled her ear. “I did. And I want to thank you. I hate knowing Clyde died like that. It was so senseless.”

She couldn’t agree more. “I’m so sorry, Kate. I know how close you were to Clyde.”

“I have my memories.” Then, after a long pause, Kate got to the point of her call. “I got a call from Clyde’s attorney about an hour ago and he asked if I’d come to his office tomorrow morning. He said it was important.”

She closed her eyes against the image of the tea Clyde had shared with his wife juxtaposed against the tea Beau had most likely used to murder his father.

“I was wondering if you’d come with me. You’re the one who found his killer.”

“It was a group effort,” she said woodenly. “In fact, if I’m honest, my friends put two and two together before I did.”

“Will you still come?” Kate asked. “I don’t want to go alone.”

Chapter 30

Tori reached across the empty space separating her
chair from Kate’s and squeezed the woman’s hand, the clamminess she felt there proof positive that she wasn’t alone in her disappointment.

She’d tried so hard to fall asleep during the night, to let the promise of justice ease her into some much-needed sleep, but to no avail. Clyde was still dead. His land would still be sold if for no other reason than Beau had signed and mailed the papers before his arrest.

Whether his hands would ever even touch the money from the sale remained to be seen, but the land his father had loved so much was now gone. That fact alone made any sense of justice hollow at best.

“Good morning, Kate.” Al Varnin strode into the room carrying a bulging folder in one hand and a pen in his other. “I’m glad you were able to make it this morning.”

Kate smiled but said nothing, obviously waiting for an explanation as to why she’d been summoned to the attorney’s office in Lawry.

“As you may or may not know, Clyde and I go way back. We knew each other when we were kids and I became his attorney pretty much the second I completed law school. Next to my parents, he was my first client.”

Tori glanced in Kate’s direction to gauge her reaction to the man’s buildup but saw nothing more than casual interest.

“I’m not sure why I’m here.”

“I’m getting to that.” Al reached inside the top drawer of his desk and extracted a sealed envelope. Leaning forward in his seat, he handed the envelope to Kate. “I think you might like to read this.”

Kate took the envelope and turned it right side up. “This is Clyde’s writing,” she whispered.

Al nodded. “Go ahead and open it.”

Tori watched as Kate slid her finger beneath the rim of the envelope and broke the seal, a folded piece of white linen stationary tucked neatly inside.

“Am I supposed to read this?” Kate asked, looking from Al to Tori and back again.

Once again, Al nodded.

With hands that suddenly trembled, Kate unfolded the piece of paper and began to read aloud, her voice breaking more and more with each passing sentence.

My dearest Kate,

Life has lots of twists and turns. Some twists we see, some turns we don’t. Some we set in motion, others are determined by fate.

Shortly before I married Deidre—the love of my life—I had a one-night stand with an extremely beautiful woman. The moment it was over, I knew I’d made a mistake. My actions, if known, would destroy a relationship that meant the world to me and rob me of the one person in my life who truly loved me.

Six years later, while attending church with my wife and young son, Beau, I saw that woman again. She was seated a few pews ahead of me with a little girl I guessed to be a year or two older than Beau.

One look at that child’s face and I knew she was mine. Her eyes were the same as my mother’s, her hair the same color as my son’s. One fleeting look between the little girl’s mother and me confirmed what I suspected.

Yet I couldn’t say anything to anyone. If I had, I risked destroying the one woman who’d stood by my side for almost as long as I could remember. Deidre was my soul mate and my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine my future without her.

So I kept quiet and pretended nothing had happened, but because of my volunteer work with the church, I was able to build a relationship with my daughter without fear of upsetting Deidre or Beau.

I’m sure by now, Kate, you realize you were that child … that you are my daughter.

She felt the gasp as it left her mouth and heard that of two others simultaneously.

As days turned to weeks, I found myself wanting to do the right thing, wanting to tell my wife of my indiscretion and beg for her forgiveness. But your mother said no. She didn’t want Beau’s life to be affected by what could be a nasty fallout. She felt that I could be in your life in other ways and I agreed.

Year by year I watched you grow.

Year by year my love and pride for you grew as well.

I lived a good life. A life enriched by the love of my wife and son, and by the joy I got from watching you grow and flourish.

I kept your mother’s secret and she kept mine. There was no sense in hurting my wife, no sense in making her doubt herself when she’d done nothing wrong.

But it’s time to come clean. You and Beau are siblings.

If you are reading this, it’s because I’m dead. Beau no longer has his mother or me. You no longer have your mother or me.

My wish for you and for Beau is that you will be each other’s family the way you should have been all along.

With pride and love,

Your father, Clyde

Tori stared at Kate, her heart breaking for the tears that slowly made their way down the woman’s long face.

“Wow. I had no idea,” Al finally said. “All these years and even I didn’t know about this.”

Seconds turned to minutes as Kate continued to sit there, staring down at a letter she finally folded and shoved back in the envelope. “Is this why you summoned me here? To give me this letter?”

“Yes it is. But now that you’re here and I finally know the contents of the letter your father gave me in the wake of his wife’s death, let me check something.” Tori reached across the gap once again and rested a calming hand on the woman’s back as they waited for Al to read through the paperwork contained in his folder. When he was done, he shook his head and whistled beneath his breath. “Clyde sure was right about those twists and turns …”

At Kate’s blank expression and Tori’s shrug, Al got to the point. “In the state of South Carolina there are only five requirements for a Will to be valid. The person making the Will must be at least eighteen—which Clyde was. The Will must be in writing, which, as you can see, it is.” Al spun a handwritten piece of paper around for Kate to see. “It must be signed by Clyde and two independent witnesses—one I recognize as a mutual friend, the other shares
your
last name, Kate. Do you happen to know a Candace Loggins?”

“That was my mother.”

Tori reached out and took hold of Kate’s hand as Al continued. “The next requirement is for Clyde to have been of sound mind, which, based on the meticulous list he made outlining all of his assets, is without question. And finally, he must voluntarily sign the will—which again, needs no questioning.”

Kate waited a moment then gestured toward the paper. “So what does this all mean?”

Al took one last look at Clyde’s will, verbally confirmed the year Kate was born, then spun the will back in their direction. “Because of this provision right here …”

Tori leaned forward alongside Kate and began to read, her eyes following along with Al’s finger. When she reached the end of the sentence, she smiled at Clyde’s true firstborn, the woman who, because of Beau’s nefarious actions, was now the sole owner of the land that had touched them both in similar ways.

“But Beau sold the property already, didn’t he?” Kate said in a voice void of virtually all emotion.

“His signature means nothing. Upon Clyde’s death, part of the land became yours, and the remaining land and the house became his. In light of Beau’s criminal actions and the exceptions Clyde put in place, the land and the property are yours alone—to sell or to keep.”

• • •

Less than two hours later, as she followed Kate into
Clyde’s home, Tori couldn’t help but feel as if they’d gotten a little closer to the justice she’d been seeking.

Yes, Clyde was still dead.

Yes, Beau had still killed him in greed.

But the one person who loved the land along Fawn Lake almost as much as Clyde was now in control of its fate.

“I still can’t believe this is yours, Kate.” She crossed the room to admire the same floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that had called to her the first time she stepped inside Clyde’s house, the countless books and smattering of knickknacks and pictures creating an image of the man and the family who’d once lived inside these walls. When her gaze fell on the painted image of Fawn Lake as viewed from the sunroom Clyde loved, she caught her breath. “Did Clyde paint that?”

When Kate didn’t answer, she peered through the series of open archways and into the sunroom. “Kate? You okay?”

Without taking her gaze from the sun-dappled lake, Kate nodded. “From that very first moment, I knew what I was going to do with this place when it finally became mine. Can’t you just see the cabins scattered around the property, tucked out of sight among the trees, yet still claiming their own view of the lake?”

Mesmerized by the view, she tried to focus on what Kate was saying but failed. “Cabins? What cabins?”

“Small cabins in the woods perfect for artists and writers and musicians who want to work on their latest project. Each cabin would have a view from its very own sunroom. And me? I’d live here, in the main house. Where
I
could write while looking out at the lake for inspiration.”

“I’d love to read some of your work one day.” Tori turned toward the lake and reveled in its peaceful magic. “Maybe we could even show it to Colby.”

Kate’s eyes widened as they locked on Tori’s. “Colby? As in Colby Calhoun?”