was balding and portly and possessed the flat eyes of a rattlesnake. His suit was hand-tailored, his fingernails were buffed to a high gloss, and his watch was a vintage Cartier. He looked like old money with a side of trouble.
“Good day, Mr. Grumley,” Delaine said demurely as she offered a hand. “I think you know my friend Theodosia Browning . . .”
“Indeed I do,” said Grumley, smiling and showing a wide expanse of teeth.
Theodosia had met Allan Grumley for the briefest moment last Saturday at Ravencrest Inn, and he’d hardly been warm or even cordial to her. Really, not even tepid. But today Grumley was smiling, chattering away like crazy, and pulling out chairs for them. She figured he must be up to something.
“I understand Charles Horton wants to join us, too?” said Theodosia.
“Indeed, he does,” said Grumley.
“Why would that be?” asked Theodosia.
Grumley was taken aback. “Why . . . because he’s a relative.”
“Not really,” said Delaine.
“As I understand the situation,” said Theodosia, “Miss Dish is here because she was named beneficiary in Mr. Granville’s life insurance policy. Is that not so?”
“You’re quite correct,” said Grumley, steepling his fingers together and staring at her from across the table.
“Which makes this a private matter,” said Theodosia.
Grumley looked momentarily stunned. “Fine,” he said. “If you wish this meeting to remain completely private, Miss Dish, then that’s what we shall do.”
“Please,” said Delaine. Delaine was a social gadabout, a world-class gossip, and a demon when it came to twisting people’s arms and raising money for charitable causes, but right now she seemed more than a little shaken.
“So the life insurance,” said Theodosia, trying to hasten things along.
“It’s all fairly straightforward,” said Grumley. “Miss Dish was the sole beneficiary and will receive the sum of half a million dollars.”
“Goodness!” said Delaine. “I had no idea it was so much!”
“My partner was generous to a fault,” said Grumley. “And, as you can see, he firmly believed in estate planning.”
“About the estate,” said Theodosia. Her confident smile let Allan Grumley know he wasn’t the only friendly barracuda in the room.
Grumley raised his brows as if making a polite inquiry. “Yes?”
“Delaine was under the impression that she’d been named in Mr. Granville’s will,” said Theodosia.
Now Grumley drummed his fingers on the table. “Uh-huh.”
“Since you are Mr. Granville’s former law partner,” said Theodosia, “I’m going to assume that you were the one who drew up his will.”
More drumming of fingers. “Uh-huh,” Grumley said again.
“Did you?” Theodosia pressed. Honestly, this was like pulling teeth.
Grumley’s chuckle was harsh and forced. “I did indeed. But I’m afraid we’re not able to move ahead with that piece of business.”
“Why on earth not?” asked Delaine.
“Please explain,” said Theodosia. And this time she wasn’t smiling.
“Since there is a murder investigation under way,” said Grumley, “the police have requested that the deceased’s last will and testament not be released.”
“That seems like an unusual request,” said Theodosia. She decided she’d better check with Tidwell to verify that.
“These are unusual circumstances,” said Grumley.
“And once the circumstances are resolved?” said Theodosia.
“Then the contents of the will shall be made known and will proceed through probate,” said Grumley.
“And on to the heirs,” said Delaine.
“Unless . . .” said Grumley. He held up an index finger. “Unless someone challenges the will or elects to make a claim.”
“Who would do that?” asked Delaine.
“Family,” said Grumley.
“Or extended family?” said Theodosia.
“Possibly,” said Grumley.
“Like Charles Horton?” Delaine spat out.
Grumley just lifted a hand.
* * *
Two minutes
“Good day, Mr. Grumley,” Delaine said demurely as she offered a hand. “I think you know my friend Theodosia Browning . . .”
“Indeed I do,” said Grumley, smiling and showing a wide expanse of teeth.
Theodosia had met Allan Grumley for the briefest moment last Saturday at Ravencrest Inn, and he’d hardly been warm or even cordial to her. Really, not even tepid. But today Grumley was smiling, chattering away like crazy, and pulling out chairs for them. She figured he must be up to something.
“I understand Charles Horton wants to join us, too?” said Theodosia.
“Indeed, he does,” said Grumley.
“Why would that be?” asked Theodosia.
Grumley was taken aback. “Why . . . because he’s a relative.”
“Not really,” said Delaine.
“As I understand the situation,” said Theodosia, “Miss Dish is here because she was named beneficiary in Mr. Granville’s life insurance policy. Is that not so?”
“You’re quite correct,” said Grumley, steepling his fingers together and staring at her from across the table.
“Which makes this a private matter,” said Theodosia.
Grumley looked momentarily stunned. “Fine,” he said. “If you wish this meeting to remain completely private, Miss Dish, then that’s what we shall do.”
“Please,” said Delaine. Delaine was a social gadabout, a world-class gossip, and a demon when it came to twisting people’s arms and raising money for charitable causes, but right now she seemed more than a little shaken.
“So the life insurance,” said Theodosia, trying to hasten things along.
“It’s all fairly straightforward,” said Grumley. “Miss Dish was the sole beneficiary and will receive the sum of half a million dollars.”
“Goodness!” said Delaine. “I had no idea it was so much!”
“My partner was generous to a fault,” said Grumley. “And, as you can see, he firmly believed in estate planning.”
“About the estate,” said Theodosia. Her confident smile let Allan Grumley know he wasn’t the only friendly barracuda in the room.
Grumley raised his brows as if making a polite inquiry. “Yes?”
“Delaine was under the impression that she’d been named in Mr. Granville’s will,” said Theodosia.
Now Grumley drummed his fingers on the table. “Uh-huh.”
“Since you are Mr. Granville’s former law partner,” said Theodosia, “I’m going to assume that you were the one who drew up his will.”
More drumming of fingers. “Uh-huh,” Grumley said again.
“Did you?” Theodosia pressed. Honestly, this was like pulling teeth.
Grumley’s chuckle was harsh and forced. “I did indeed. But I’m afraid we’re not able to move ahead with that piece of business.”
“Why on earth not?” asked Delaine.
“Please explain,” said Theodosia. And this time she wasn’t smiling.
“Since there is a murder investigation under way,” said Grumley, “the police have requested that the deceased’s last will and testament not be released.”
“That seems like an unusual request,” said Theodosia. She decided she’d better check with Tidwell to verify that.
“These are unusual circumstances,” said Grumley.
“And once the circumstances are resolved?” said Theodosia.
“Then the contents of the will shall be made known and will proceed through probate,” said Grumley.
“And on to the heirs,” said Delaine.
“Unless . . .” said Grumley. He held up an index finger. “Unless someone challenges the will or elects to make a claim.”
“Who would do that?” asked Delaine.
“Family,” said Grumley.
“Or extended family?” said Theodosia.
“Possibly,” said Grumley.
“Like Charles Horton?” Delaine spat out.
Grumley just lifted a hand.
* * *
Two minutes
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