funeral,” I reminded him, reading off the four names on the letterhead. “Remember? He said that I was a beneficiary.”
“Prob’bly left you the damn cats,” Jess grumbled from behind the counter, turning off the lights as he locked up. Jess hates cats.
My mood wasn’t any better than his. Rashawn in trouble again. Bertie making plans to drop a three-year-old in my lap. All the new possibilities dissolved. My old life was chasing me and I couldn’t run fast enough. I wondered what else I would have to deal with.
“Or else she left me the damn ghost,” I murmured.
It was worse than that.
Millie had left me the B&B: house, cats, ghost,
everything.
This is the part in the romance novel where the heroine faints. I would have, too, if I’d known how.
Since I was too stunned to faint, I just sat in the chair in attorney Geoff Black’s office with my eyes bugged out and my mouth hanging open. My brain wasn’t working so the words I’d started to say wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I was so surprised at what the attorney had said, I inhaled but didn’t exhale. I must have looked as if I was about to go into shock.
“Ms. Louis, are you all right?” Geoff Black leaned forward with a worried expression on his face. “Do you need a glass of water?”
“Juanita, you OK?” Jess patted me on the arm.
I was staring at Mr. Black.
“She left me the whole house?” I asked. A stupid question. What did I think, that Millie was going to leave me the first floor and leave the rest to somebody else?
Geoff smiled slightly.
“Yes, the whole house and a small annuity for upkeep. Mrs. Daniels, er, Miss Tilson said that old houses are like old showgirls. They need maintenance every once in a while.”
That certainly was something Millie would have said, all right. But, why me?
“What about her family?” I asked. I thought about her sister and Horace and her other nieces and nephews. Geoff shook his head and glanced down at the paper.
“She’s left them some very generous bequests. They won’t have any complaints. Miss Tilson was a wealthy woman. But she felt that you would be the perfect person to carry on her legacy.”
Me? Millie’s legacy? With the tentacles from my past life reaching out to pull me back? What was she thinking?
“Congratulations, Miz Louis,” Jess said. “You got yourself a business.”
His eyes danced with merriment and he smiled.
Ask and ye shall receive.
Well, I’d been thinking about running a business. A bed-and-breakfast business. Now, I had one right in my lap.
Geoff Black’s cough brought me out of my daydream.
“I would hold on the congratulations for the moment,” he said. I could hear thunderclouds in his voice. He fumbled with the papers in his hands. “I’m not sure how to say this, Ms. Louis, but . . . well, there may be a slight impediment to the bequest. Nothing to really worry about.” He paused. “I don’t think.”
“Slight” was not the word I would have used to describe the “impediment.”
“The will has been contested. A hearing hasn’t been set yet but I expect the papers to be filed soon and then Judge McGriff will set a date.”
“By who?”
“I’ll handle the will contest hearing,” Geoff went on, not answering my question. “The complainant alleges that Miss Tilson was not of sound mind when she made her will and that all bequests are void. If that happens, the estate reverts to the heirs as dictated by probate law when a person dies intestate.” He paused for a moment. “Because of Millie’s, well, eccentric behavior . . . it could be a challenging case.”
Ask a lawyer where he’s going, he’ll tell you where he’s been.
“Who’s contesting the will?”
“Oh, sorry. In this case, it’s pretty simple. It means that Miss Tilson’s entire estate would go to one person. Her son.”
“Her son?”
Jess and I answered in a duet.
The lawyer smiled sheepishly.
“I get that a lot,” he said. “It isn’t really common
“Prob’bly left you the damn cats,” Jess grumbled from behind the counter, turning off the lights as he locked up. Jess hates cats.
My mood wasn’t any better than his. Rashawn in trouble again. Bertie making plans to drop a three-year-old in my lap. All the new possibilities dissolved. My old life was chasing me and I couldn’t run fast enough. I wondered what else I would have to deal with.
“Or else she left me the damn ghost,” I murmured.
It was worse than that.
Millie had left me the B&B: house, cats, ghost,
everything.
This is the part in the romance novel where the heroine faints. I would have, too, if I’d known how.
Since I was too stunned to faint, I just sat in the chair in attorney Geoff Black’s office with my eyes bugged out and my mouth hanging open. My brain wasn’t working so the words I’d started to say wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I was so surprised at what the attorney had said, I inhaled but didn’t exhale. I must have looked as if I was about to go into shock.
“Ms. Louis, are you all right?” Geoff Black leaned forward with a worried expression on his face. “Do you need a glass of water?”
“Juanita, you OK?” Jess patted me on the arm.
I was staring at Mr. Black.
“She left me the whole house?” I asked. A stupid question. What did I think, that Millie was going to leave me the first floor and leave the rest to somebody else?
Geoff smiled slightly.
“Yes, the whole house and a small annuity for upkeep. Mrs. Daniels, er, Miss Tilson said that old houses are like old showgirls. They need maintenance every once in a while.”
That certainly was something Millie would have said, all right. But, why me?
“What about her family?” I asked. I thought about her sister and Horace and her other nieces and nephews. Geoff shook his head and glanced down at the paper.
“She’s left them some very generous bequests. They won’t have any complaints. Miss Tilson was a wealthy woman. But she felt that you would be the perfect person to carry on her legacy.”
Me? Millie’s legacy? With the tentacles from my past life reaching out to pull me back? What was she thinking?
“Congratulations, Miz Louis,” Jess said. “You got yourself a business.”
His eyes danced with merriment and he smiled.
Ask and ye shall receive.
Well, I’d been thinking about running a business. A bed-and-breakfast business. Now, I had one right in my lap.
Geoff Black’s cough brought me out of my daydream.
“I would hold on the congratulations for the moment,” he said. I could hear thunderclouds in his voice. He fumbled with the papers in his hands. “I’m not sure how to say this, Ms. Louis, but . . . well, there may be a slight impediment to the bequest. Nothing to really worry about.” He paused. “I don’t think.”
“Slight” was not the word I would have used to describe the “impediment.”
“The will has been contested. A hearing hasn’t been set yet but I expect the papers to be filed soon and then Judge McGriff will set a date.”
“By who?”
“I’ll handle the will contest hearing,” Geoff went on, not answering my question. “The complainant alleges that Miss Tilson was not of sound mind when she made her will and that all bequests are void. If that happens, the estate reverts to the heirs as dictated by probate law when a person dies intestate.” He paused for a moment. “Because of Millie’s, well, eccentric behavior . . . it could be a challenging case.”
Ask a lawyer where he’s going, he’ll tell you where he’s been.
“Who’s contesting the will?”
“Oh, sorry. In this case, it’s pretty simple. It means that Miss Tilson’s entire estate would go to one person. Her son.”
“Her son?”
Jess and I answered in a duet.
The lawyer smiled sheepishly.
“I get that a lot,” he said. “It isn’t really common
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