Slightly Irregular (8 page)

“No, she likes
you
and thinks
you
have potential. You’re the teacher’s pet,” I teased. I then recapped everything from coming home, to the beach, to the new construction, then shared that part about Liam barging in through the door while my mother was here and finished up with the end of my phone call with Lieberman. “Can you believe that?”

“I don’t know. Sounds very knight-on-white-horse-ish to me. He really just burst in?”

“I was talking about Ellen’s meeting time, but yes, he did burst right in. And somehow the next thing I knew, I was telling
my mother I was bringing Liam to Atlanta as my date for Lisa’s wedding.”

“Did she stroke out right there on the floor?”

“Practically,” I said, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders. After all, the expression on her face was classic. “It did shut her up about the wedding escort. So now, when I come solo, she’ll be grateful. Well played, I thought.”

“Unless Tony and Liam both show up. She actually called Tony?”

“Don’t remind me. I have to see him tomorrow. Not sure how I’m going to explain my mother to him.”

“Mention your mother is desperate to marry you off. Most guys hear the ‘m’ word and run screaming from the room.”

“Why didn’t Ellen send you? Why send Liam?”

“Well, she did call me, but I told the truth. I had no idea where you were. I even skipped the whole brunch thing. I’m still not sure letting anyone at the firm know we’re tight is in my best interests.”

“I know, but that still doesn’t solve my Liam conundrum.”

“Ellen was probably annoyed and figured sending a Liam-O-Gram was a speedy solution.”

Liam is a lot of things, but a solution isn’t one of them.

After a fitful night
, I got up early and drank my pot of coffee while sitting on the draped chaise next to the pool. Sam was right: the cabana was perfect. The warm breeze coming off the ocean made the bug smoker unnecessary, and I watched the
giant red ball of the sun rise, casting a bright golden blanket on the water. I wasn't thrilled when I had to abandon my comfy cocoon to get dressed for work.

I selected a funky Helen Berman dress I’d picked up at the thrift store for Bethesda-by-the-Sea. One of the many pluses of living in Palm Beach proper was easy access to a thrift store where I could find everything from vintage Versace to BCBG shoes, all barely to gently worn by well-heeled islanders. Twice a year, they even had blowout sales. I already had the dates circled in red on my calendar.

Because I’m only five-four, I tend to avoid empire waists with bow accents, but this dress, with its black bodice and white skirt, had been a great bargain and way too cute to pass up. Plus, it gave me an excuse to wear my black Jimmy Choo patent-leather cuff sandals with the very,
very
high heels. I’d gotten them at half price because of an imperfection in the stitching on the inside right cuff, but unless someone got down on her hands and knees for inspection, my secret was safe.

The drive to Dane-Lieberman was much quicker at o’-dark-thirty, leaving me time to swing through the Starbucks for a venti frappe. Even though I’d already downed a pot of coffee, my caffeine levels were still way too low for maximum concentration.

I parked my shiny Mercedes next to Ellen’s utilitarian Volvo, grabbed my purse, and fished for the office keys as I walked toward the etched-glass doors with the names of the partners accented in gold.

Maudlin Margaret’s desk was deserted, and I couldn’t resist leaving a faux message on her pink pad. It read:

“Miss Egghardt arriving at eight, please send her up as soon as possible.”

I wrote the date and time just to jerk her chain, then took the elevators to the second floor. It was just shy of my meeting time, so I turned on my computer and my personal coffeemaker, shoved my purse into the bottom drawer of my desk, then spun in my seat to place my briefcase—which held my study guide for tomorrow night’s test—inside one of three vertical filing cabinets adorning my office.

I was still happy with my new digs. And even happier that I’d gotten them by solving not one but two murders. Well, solving may be a bit of a stretch, but I had been an integral part of unearthing the culprits, even if I did have some marginal help from Liam. Okay, so maybe marginal was a bit of a stretch, but it didn’t matter. Vain Dane had given me the private office with a view of City Place to lure me back to working at the firm. He’d fired me twice in six months, and I wasn’t about to return without some major perks.

With the Egghardt file and ever-ready pad and pen in hand, I took the elevator to the fourth-floor executive suite. Ellen’s office was to the left of the elevator, off the circular lobby. I walked with conviction and the knowledge that five-and-a-half-inch heels were not the best walking shoes ever invented. But as my grandmother often said, “You have to suffer to be lovely.”

I had just passed the conference room when Ellen called my name. Pivoting, I found her seated at the head of the long table, several boundary maps rolled out in front of her, the corners anchored by staplers.

She checked her watch. “Very good.”

Very early
. “Good morning,” I said, refusing to allow her sarcastic tone to get under my skin. I placed my coffee and pad on the table at the spot to her left.

“Are those your notes and the estate file?” she asked as she glanced up from the map.

No, it’s my grocery list.
“Yes, I knew you wanted to review it before Lenora gets here. Oh, and I hear congratulations are in order.”

Ellen peered up through her mascara-free lashes. “Thanks.”

Thanks? You’d think she’d be a tad more excited. It wasn’t like a daily thing to be named one of Florida’s “Top 100 Lawyers” in the Sunday paper.

Dismissing the topic as if my comments were unimportant, Ellen read most of the pages in my file while I was left with nothing to do. Bored after seven minutes, I went to the coffeepot and refilled both our mugs. It wasn’t until I placed one next to Ellen that I noticed the faint smell of sweet pea, freesia, and hyacinth, and I realized she was wearing Acqua Di Gio perfume by Armani. The designer fragrance was at odds with her brown-and-green shapeless dress and Jesus sandals. The perfume was soft and feminine, when everything else about her screamed “I don’t give a shit what I look like!” She had about four inches of white-gray roots before curly red hair fell well below her shoulders. The woman is just weird. She doesn’t bother to wax her brows, yet she wears a seventy-dollar-an-ounce fragrance. I’d never known her to wear perfume, but then again, this was the first time I’d seen her so early in the morning. Apparently, she didn’t subscribe to the theory that perfume, like lipstick, requires reapplication during the day.

When she finished, she asked, “Why didn’t you ask Liam to try to find the elusive second cousins-slash-tenants?”

“Technically, they would be third cousins, and when I handled the estate, Liam wasn’t on retainer with Dane-Lieberman. Then there was the problem of Lenora not knowing any names or if they were relatives or tenants or even the location and boundaries of the land out in Indiantown.”

“Did you drive out to Indiantown?”

“Yes,” I practically hissed. “I went through the local property records at the library—if you can call it that—and couldn’t find anything. I checked the Martin County Property Clerk’s Office, and all I found was that the land was owned by Lenora’s aunt and uncle and there was no record of the property being transferred after 1931. It’s all right there in the abstract.”

Ellen smiled. “Taking pride in your work, are you?”

If I was, it was purely by accident. “No. I just feel confident that I did everything possible at the time. It was three years ago.”

“And yet you remember everything. That would serve you well if you decided to go to law school.”

“Is your coffee warm enough?” I asked, not willing to beat this dead horse again. Like my mother, Ellen couldn’t seem to grasp that I didn’t want to further my education. I was happy with my normally nine-to-five job, and I had no intention of spending three more years in college.

“My coffee is fine. Show me exactly where the property is”—she paused to check her zillion-year-old utilitarian Timex—“then go down to the lobby and let Lenora in, since Margaret won’t be here for another few—”

The sound of the intercom cut her off. “Yes?” Ellen asked as she pressed the flashing green button on the phone.

“Is Finley there?” It was Margaret. “Her client has arrived.”

“Thank you, Margaret. You can send Ms. Egghardt up to my conference room.”

“Where would you like me?” I asked.

“In law school.” She offered a small smile with the suggestion. “Here,” she said, pointing to the chair to her left. “But could you go to the elevators? Leslie-Anne doesn’t get here until nine.”

Leslie-Anne. So that was the name of the executive assistant who still called me Miss Tanner after eight and a half years. Then again, I still called her Mrs. Greenfelder, so I couldn’t see me giving her a shout-out as Leslie-Anne any time soon.

By the time I reached the elevators, Lenora was stepping out, decked head to toe in Louis Vuitton. Her brown hair was pixie short, but it fit her small, delicate features. She was about three inches shorter than I am even without my killer heels on. When she looked up, the broad smile on her glossed lips was mirrored in her hazel eyes.

Lenora was not to the manor born but rather the great-granddaughter of a Gilded Age tycoon. The Egghardt name had some cachet, but the millions were long gone. Still, she’d married well and divorced even better.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Good. I’m glad you’re still working on this mess. I thought I was done sorting through my uncle’s things, and then out of the blue, I get this.” She thrust a slightly rumpled envelope toward me as we walked to the conference area.

Pulling the letter out, I found a note and a money order for thirty dollars with rent scratched on the memo line, only it was spelled “rint.” The note just said, “This covers the end.” The signature was almost illegible.

“Ellen Lieberman, this is Lenora Egghardt,” I said, then completed the introduction. As I did, I noticed Lenora’s eyes fixed on Ellen. God, I hoped it wasn’t the muumuu.

“Have we met?” Lenora asked as she extended her hand.

Ellen blinked rapidly. “I think we may have met once in the elevator.”

Lenora was shaking her head. “No, I think it was longer ago than that. Your face looks so familiar.”

Ellen shrugged, and her eyes were downcast. “I just have one of those faces.”

What?
I wondered.
The kind with no makeup, crying out for a facial?
How could Ellen not know that she had perfect bone structure, even more perfect, long-lashed eyes, and from what I could tell beneath the ever-present tent dress, a great shape?

“Shall we get started?” Ellen asked as she pointed to the seat opposite mine.

I passed the contents of the envelope to Ellen as Lenora explained what had transpired. We spent the next forty-five minutes looking at various maps of the area in question. Uncle Walter had died intestate in Lenora’s home. His dementia was such that for his last few years on earth he spoke little more than gibberish. When he died, Lenora, as next of kin, inherited everything, including several hundred acres of primo citrus groves. Thanks to citrus canker, she was about to turn fifty acres into a state-of-the-art equestrian center, hopefully drawing clients
from Payson Park, the premier racetrack in the area—until she’d received the rent payment and begun to wonder if the distant cousin Walter had once mentioned more than a decade ago had finally surfaced.

If he/she had, the only lead was the return address on the envelope, a post office box in Indiantown.

“I’m sorry for staring,” Lenora said to Ellen. “I’m still trying to figure out why you look so familiar.”

Ellen rolled the chair back from the table and stood. “I’m sure you’re mistaking me for someone else. I’ll have Finley walk you to your car, and you’ll hear from us as soon as we make contact with the tenant.” She turned to me. “See to Ms. Egghardt, then come back up here.”

The two women shook hands, and I hurried around to the doorway to lead Lenora back downstairs. She had fine lines on her brow as she continued to concentrate. “I could swear I know that woman. I just can’t place her.”

I pressed the elevator button, then turned briefly to the executive assistant. “Good morning, Leslie-Anne.” I left her alone with her shocked expression as Lenora and I stepped inside the empty elevator.

“Is Lieberman a married name?”

I shrugged. I’d always thought of Ellen as some sort of asexual creature. Like a worm. Lenora wasn’t giving up though. She asked me question after question, and I realized I knew close to nothing about Ellen. Not even her home address. Hell, until yesterday, I hadn’t even known her home phone number.

As we headed out of the lobby, I shielded my eyes from the bright sun glistening off the cars and shop windows. The heat
was already stifling, creating water mirages on the pavement of the parking lot.