Finding Julian (11 page)

Seven got up fast and combed his hand
through his tousled hair, as if he only now realized what he was doing.

I stood as well, outright confused.
“What’s wrong?”

He looked at me apologetically. “I’m
sorry, Julian. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Not exactly what I wanted to hear right
after a steamy kiss like that.

I straightened and brushed the sand off
my dress. “It’s okay.” I didn’t know what else to say. His rejection hurt. But
I didn’t want him to see that. I never wanted anyone to see that side of me.

“It’s just…seeing my father and Claire
together…my head’s all over the place right now,” he tried to explain.

“It’s okay,” I said again, turning to
leave.

“Wait,” he called after me. “Julian, is
it really okay?”

I kept my back turned to him as I
whispered, “Yes. It was a mistake.” And that was another reason why I should
leave this place.

Chapter Sixteen

Seven and I hardly looked at each
other
over the weekend. Also, he hadn’t asked Aunt Bev to
stop Claire from working at the guesthouse. He would simply leave before she
came to work, and avoided coming home until she left for the day. I didn’t
understand him at all. He wasn’t confronting his father about the affair. He
was pretending like nothing happened.

By Monday, I was following Aunt Bev’s
strategy. I drowned myself in the project in order to escape thinking about the
kiss with Seven. The sugary taste of his soft lips haunted my dreams and kept
me up at night. I wanted desperately to feel his touch again.

I took comfort in knowing I’d be out of
here soon enough. Mr. Douglas had filed the legal stuff and all I had to do was
sign the papers to turn over the estate to Mackenzie. Of course, I’d have to
get her to sit down with Mr. Douglas and sign some papers as well.

I still hadn’t made any progress in
establishing a relationship with my sister though. Whenever our paths crossed,
the only thing she asked about was when I’d give her what was rightfully hers
so that I could leave. She would certainly be ecstatic by the news that I’d
managed to contest the will, but a part of me had second thoughts about giving
her anything.

Ironically, on my way back to the office
from Dunkin Donuts after a quick morning break, I saw Mackenzie coming out of
the building. I considered stopping her before she got in her car, wondering
what else she did aside from volunteering at the animal shelter and going to
college.

“Mackenzie,” I called after her as she
opened the door to her Mercedes.

She glanced over in my direction,
creasing her forehead. “What do
you
want?”

I walked up to her. “I did it. The
estate will be yours if you meet with this lawyer and sign a few papers.”

Surprised, Mackenzie straightened, her
face softened as she said, “Oh, finally.”

“Yeah, well, no one anticipated Mr.
Cornwell getting killed during a robbery.”

Dropping her eyes to the ground, she
seemed a bit sad. “He didn’t deserve that,” she muttered under her breath, eyes
still looking down. “As much as we didn’t get along, Robert didn’t deserve
that.”

“I’m sorry,” was all I could say. I
hadn’t seen her so troubled till now. Even at our father’s funeral she appeared
strong.

Mackenzie’s head shot up. She crossed
her arms and asked in a sarcastic tone, “Who’s this new lawyer and when can we
meet up to get it over with?”

I smirked. She was back to her usual
self. “If you want, we could go see him now. I’ll just call Aunt Bev and let
her know I’m leaving for a while.”

She nodded. “Get in.”

I walked around to the passenger side
and climbed inside, calling Aunt Bev as Mackenzie pulled onto the road. Then I
informed Mr. Douglas we were on our way.

We were almost across the Pell Bridge
when Mackenzie broke through the silence that had encapsulated us since leaving
Newport. “Where is this lawyer, anyway?”

“Jamestown,” I answered.

“And let me guess, Seven paid for him.”
She had a smart grin on her face.

“No,” I shushed. “Mr. Douglas said I
could just pay him once it’s over.”

Mackenzie snorted. “You should’ve just
told me. I’ll pay him when we get there ‘cause this benefits me.”

That reminded me. “Why do you want this
place so bad when you said all that stuff to our father?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Cornwell told me what you said
about the Vanderson estate.
Burn it down, leave it to rot
,” I mimicked
her voice.

She flashed me a dirty look then brought
her eyes back on the road. She took a deep breath then explained, “He’d made me
so angry that day. Before, he would do company stuff at home. Then he started
to paint, and I still couldn’t get a second of his time.” She spoke in such a
breathy, vulnerable tone. “He loved that house. And—”

“That’s why you want it,” I finished her
sentence. “Because it’s the only way you feel close to him.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I do. But what about his paintings? You
let your mom get rid of them—”

“She didn’t get rid of them,” Mackenzie
spat. “I bought them from her gallery.”

“What?” Wow. She was on a roll with
surprises. “
You
bought them from her?”

Rolling her eyes, Mackenzie turned and
glared at me for a split second. “She doesn’t know it was me. I was an
anonymous buyer.”

I didn’t know what to make of her
confession. “But…” I mumbled. “They were mostly of me.”

“And me too,” she added. “He painted us
together. How messed up is that? He barely spoke to me yet he liked painting me
and his lover’s daughter.”

After a long pause, I asked, “Where are
they?”

“In my condo.” Her voice was like a near
whisper.

Shortly after, Mackenzie pulled up
outside Mr. Douglas’ law office in Jamestown. She found parking and we walked
inside.

When his secretary let us into his
office, Mr. Douglas appeared on edge. He hung over and rested his elbows on top
of his desk, massaging his temple.

“Mr. Douglas,” his secretary pulled him
out of his thoughts. “Ms. Rowell and her sister are here.”

Looking up at us, he sprang from his
chair and grabbed some papers off his desk. “Ms. Rowell, I’m sorry, but after
carefully looking over the will and legal terms that apply, I don’t see how I
can contest this, especially with the untimely demise of the previous lawyer.
It’ll be extremely difficult to make any changes.”

I glanced over at Mackenzie, who was
just as flabbergasted as I was. She narrowed her eyes and dropped her hands
onto her hips. “Hey, look here now—”

“That’s not what you said before,” I
spoke before Mackenzie got the chance to lash out at him. “You told me all we
had to do was sign a few papers and then that would be it. What happened
exactly? Why’s it not going to work?”

Mr. Douglas seemed nervous, disheveled.
Beads of sweat dripped down the side of his wrinkled face. I noticed his hand
shook a bit when he reached the papers over to me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Here’s the will
along with the papers you previously signed. I’ve stamped them as void. Now if
you’ll excuse me—”

“That’s it?” Mackenzie and I said at the
same time. We looked at each other then back at him.

“If this is because she didn’t give you
any money up front I’ll write you a check now. How much?” she rifled in her
shoulder bag for her checkbook.

“Geez, is money the answer to all your
problems?” I hissed at her.

“It’s not about the payment. It simply
cannot be done. Now please, I have another client coming in shortly.” Mr.
Douglas gestured towards the door.

Turning to leave, Mackenzie glared at me
before she stormed out of the office. I stood in place, looking back at Mr.
Douglas. Something just didn’t seem right about this.

“I’m really sorry, Julian,” he
apologized again.

Accepting this setback, I nodded, then
turned and walked out the office towards Mackenzie, fuming by her car.

“I should’ve just gotten my own damn
lawyer,” she spat over the car at me, opening the driver’s door. “Get in. I’ll
find a better one, and he definitely will get it done. Not like this lazy ass.”

“Don’t say that,” I defended Mr. Douglas
as I got inside the car. “He said it’s difficult for him and that it’s possible
we can’t contest the will.”

“Oh please,” she scoffed, “Anything’s
possible. People do these things all the time. I just need to find the right
lawyer to make it happen.”

The drive back to Narragansett was so
quiet it had me buried in deep thinking. Mr. Douglas’ behavior left me with an
unsettling feeling. He appeared so anxious, dazed even. Not as composed as he
was in our previous meetings.

As Mackenzie got onto Boston Neck Road,
I had a sudden urge of going to Mr. Cornwell’s office in Wickford.

“Let me out,” I said as she turned into
the Anawan waterfront community.

“Huh? Why?”

“I’m going to catch a bus to Wickford.
Just something I want to do.”

She snorted. “Whatever,” slowing down so
I could get out of her car. The second I did she sped off towards the estate.

I walked back out and headed towards a
bus stop. If my timing was right, there should be one coming in ten minutes. I
couldn’t explain why, I only knew I had to figure something out.

Chapter Seventeen

When I got off the bus in Wickford
,
I headed down the street towards Mr. Cornwell’s office. The door was wide open,
and there was a SUV parked in front of the building with boxes inside. I walked
up the front steps. There was a short, petite lady with auburn hair taping up a
few boxes. It looked like the same lady the cops questioned that day when Mr.
Cornwell was found dead.

She heard my footsteps as I approached,
twirling around with cautious eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Mr. Cornwell’s secretary?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“My name’s Julian Rowell. I’m—”

“I know who you are.” She bent down and
picked up a box from the floor. Walking past me and out the door, she asked
over her shoulder, “Why are you still here in Narragansett?”

 “Actually,” I picked up one of the
boxes and helped carry it out behind her. “I was wondering about Mr. Cornwell’s
murder.”

She placed the box on the back seat of
her SUV then turned and took the one I was carrying. “What about it?”

“Did the police find any leads?”

“No leads.”

Closing the door, she walked back up the
steps and went inside the office. I entered as well, surveying the room. It was
huge, with tall bookshelves aligning the walls and a massive, mahogany
executive desk right in the middle with a black authoritative chair behind it.
Peering at the bank of windows I thought to myself, Mr. Cornwell had a lovely
view of the ocean.

Ms. Vaughn moved over to one of the
shelves and started piling books inside boxes. She stopped for a moment and
skimmed through one of them, shaking her head in pity.

“Oh, Robert, it seems like ever since he
started handling the estate of your father it all went downhill for him.”

I inched closer to her, curious. “What
do you mean?”

She composed herself and continued
packing the boxes. “Well, for one, there was that fuss about Mr. Vanderson
removing his sister from his will, said something about her plotting with her
lover to take full control of his company, so he wanted to leave it to his
wife’s nephew instead.”

“What?” That couldn’t be right. “But
Aunt Bev was mentioned in the will. He left the company to
her
.”

Ms. Vaughn spun. Her eyes expanded with
astonishment. “Sorry?”

She dropped the books to the floor and
walked over to one of the boxes already packed. She ripped the tape off and
took out a red folder, flipping through the sheets of paper.

“That’s odd,” she said.

I walked over. “What’s wrong?”

Fixing the folder inside the box again,
she said lowly, “It’s not here.”

“What’s not?”

Ms. Vaughn turned and looked at me, her
big brown eyes piercing mine. “There was a copy of the will. I’d printed it for
Robert’s records like I always have. So, I don’t understand why it’s not here
now.”

That truly was strange. “Do you remember
what was in the will you copied?” I wanted to see if she had it right before
showing her the one I had in my bag now.

“Well, let’s see…” she rubbed her
forehead. “I remember the mention of his wife and her daughter, and I’m beyond
certain he’d left his company to his wife’s nephew. Seven something…”

I was surprised. “Aunt Bev wasn’t
mentioned at all in the one you copied?”

“My dear, I don’t know what you’re
talking about, but according to the will I saw and even sat in for when Mr.
Vanderson was making his statements, he left his company to a Seven Monroe and
his entire estate to you. Ms. Beverly Vanderson wasn’t mentioned at all.” She
went back to study the boxes. “It is odd that I can’t find the copy to show it
to you…”

Her voice faded in the background as I
pulled the papers out of my bag and skimmed them for the will.

“Ms. Vaughn, according to the will I
have here, my father left his company to Aunt Bev.”

She turned and snatched the paper out my
hand, quickly reading through it. “This can’t be right,” she muttered to
herself.

“And look,” she pointed to something at
the bottom. I walked over to see what it was.

“The date’s different; it’s a year old,”
she drew a breath. “This must be the first one.”

“Well, when did my father come in to
make changes to his will?”

Facing me fully, she answered, “Two
months before he died, he came into the office to make a new one. He seemed so
adamant about it.”

I creased my forehead. “What do you
mean?”

“He was upset about something, and he
even yelled at Robert a few times but I couldn’t make out what they were saying
from outside the door. Robert called me in after they’d settled down to print
out the copy of the new will.”

She handed me the paper and watched me
with concern as I put it back inside my bag

“This is all too strange.” Ms. Vaughn
wandered about in the room, trying to solve the puzzle.

Then a thought occurred. “Did you save
the copy anywhere else, Ms. Vaughn?”

She spun, her eyes drifted all over the
place. “Yes, I did save it to the computer after I scanned it for printing.”

My brows shot up. “Where’s the
computer?”

“All the documents have been removed and
transferred to a backup drive after what happened to Robert…” she trailed.
“I’ll go through the drive later on and email it to you if I find it.”

Relief washed over me. I breathed,
“Thank you,” and gave her my email address. Shortly after, I left Ms. Vaughn to
continue packing up Mr. Cornwell’s office as I headed for the bus stop. I still
didn’t understand what it all meant and whether or not it had anything to do
with Mr. Cornwell’s robbery. But I wanted to share it with someone. Someone I
could trust.