The Deep End (A Saints & Strangers Cozy Mystery Book 2) (2 page)

“Well, I don’t remember him saying that,” Jasmine objected.

“You must have been out shopping that day,” Charlotte grumbled.

“He expected his daughters to learn how to be self-sufficient,” Jasmine said. “That will never happen if you have his money to rely on.” She hesitated. “Silly me, I mean my money.”

Jackson looked apologetic. “I’m sure you can apply for loans to help you both finish school. I can give you a few names of people to help you.”

“Thank you, Jackson.” Rebecca folded her hands on the table, her expression troubled but grateful.

“Great, it’s all settled then. I’ll even call the moving company for you. See how accommodating I can be?” Jasmine applied a fresh coat of lipstick, snapped her purse shut and strutted out of the room.

Instinctively, Rebecca moved her hand to cover her sister’s in a protective gesture.

“Jackson, are you sure?” Rebecca asked, once Jasmine had left the room.

“Quite sure,” he replied grimly.

“Did he say anything to you about…his reasons?” Rebecca asked.

“Was he high on morphine that day?” Charlotte interjected. “Maybe we can contest it.”

“He was lucid when he gave the instructions for his will,” Jackson assured her. “Jasmine has a way of manipulating people. It’s sinful, but it isn’t illegal.” He gathered his documents and tucked them into his briefcase. “I have faith in you girls and so did your father.”

“Faith that we’re miracle workers?” Charlotte asked, fighting back tears.

Rebecca squeezed her sister’s hand, knowing that there was nothing she could possibly say to make this moment better. In its own way, the exclusion was more painful than their father’s death.

Stacks of boxes were piled high outside of a bedroom. In a bikini top and matching sarong, Jasmine directed two muscular men as they moved boxes from the bedroom to the hallway. Her delicate feet were tucked into four-inch Jimmy Choos. Jasmine caught sight of Rebecca and Charlotte coming down the hall after a meeting with the party’s caterer.

“You know you don’t need to parade around in skimpy clothes anymore,” Charlotte said. “There’s no fly here to trap in your web.”

“You know my favorite place is by the pool with a cocktail,” Jasmine replied.

Charlotte wished the weather would hurry up and turn cooler already. Under normal circumstances, she would have embraced an Indian summer. Now, however, she wanted to launch straight into winter. Anything to deprive Jasmine of enjoyment.

“Hope you don’t mind, Becky,” Jasmine said, gesturing to the boxes. “Just thought I’d offer a little help in getting you girls on your way.”

Rebecca ignored her comment. No one called her Becky.

“I told you she’d have us thrown out of the house in no time,” Charlotte said.

“Give the woman a little credit, Lottie. She waited until after he actually died.”

“I’ve decided to let you stay until after the funeral party,” Jasmine said with forced pleasantness. “Give you a little time to find a new home.”

“Make sure they pack up the library,” Charlotte said. “I’m not leaving my books behind.”

“Your books?” Jasmine eyed her coolly. “I think you’ll find they’re my books now.”

Charlotte stared. “What on earth would you want with them? You don’t ever go into the library.”

Jasmine shrugged. “I might now that John is dead. He spent so much time in there. It will help me feel close to him now that he’s gone.”

Charlotte lunged forward but Rebecca stepped between them. “Charlotte, let’s just take our personal belongings. Jasmine is right. The books are part of the estate. They’re legally hers.”

Charlotte was trembling with rage. Her wonderful books in the hands of an imbecile. When had the world gone mad? More importantly, when had her father?

Later that evening, Rebecca and Charlotte rehashed the past few days in Rebecca’s bedroom. After an hour of packing, Rebecca wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers. Charlotte, however, was clearly in no mood for sleep, vigorously rubbing on a mud mask and talking a mile a minute.

“We need to contest the will,” Charlotte insisted. “We’ll hire our own lawyer. Jackson would understand.”

“I understand how you feel, Charlotte, but it must be what Father wanted. Whether we agree with his decision is irrelevant.” Rebecca was calm, her usual state of being. It was one the reasons everyone who knew her believed that she’d make an excellent doctor.

“He was weakened from the cancer,” Charlotte said. “He didn’t know his own mind. You put your life on hold to take care of him while
she
disappeared to God knows where every other day. It’s not fair.”

Charlotte hurled herself onto the bed, shoving Rebecca to the edge.

“Lottie, you know I would have taken care of him whether Jasmine was around or not. And we have to respect his wishes. Look, even Jasmine is being civilized and letting us stay until after the party. She doesn’t have to do that.”

“Well, she knows we couldn’t stand to be here long anyway, now that Daddy is gone.” She blew out a puff of air. “And I can’t imagine how she’ll redecorate. We need to steal some of Mom’s antiques before Jasmine takes inventory.”

“What you need to do is stop scheming and return to classes,” Rebecca said. “It’s important for you to get back on a schedule.”

Charlotte rested her head in Rebecca’s lap. “Will you ever stop mothering me?” Rebecca had taken charge of Charlotte’s upbringing ever since their mother had died. Even though Charlotte was now eighteen, it was a difficult impulse to shake.

Rebecca smiled wryly. “We’re orphans now, Charlotte. No more family. It’s just you and me.”

Charlotte lamely protested. “We’ve got cousins. Distant cousins, but still.”

“That reminds me. I need to call a few of the cousins tomorrow and make sure they’re coming to the party.” Rebecca dug out her day planner from a desk drawer and wrote a note to herself.

Charlotte pulled at a loose thread on the bedspread. “I think we should stay here as long as we can stomach it, just to annoy her.”

“Is that your plan for my bedroom too?” Rebecca teased.

Charlotte grabbed a nearby pillow and swatted it at her sister. “Fine, I can take a hint.” She motioned to her face. “I’ll scrub off in my own bathroom.” Charlotte hopped off the bed to return to her own room. “She’d better not have any of her boyfriends showing up anytime soon. At least wait until after the party.” She’d long suspected that Jasmine had playthings on the side, but she had no proof. Not that an affair would get their estate back for them. Her father had refused a prenup, despite their encouragement.

Rebecca sighed. “I can’t imagine that even Jasmine would be that disgraceful. Good night, Lottie.”

Charlotte blew her a kiss. “Good night, big sister.”

The next morning an unfamiliar car pulled into the semi-circle driveway of Oak Lodge. Jake Krieg stepped out of a dark blue Acura with a single suitcase and rolled it to the front door.

Charlotte observed the man’s arrival from the upstairs window. “Jasmine is unbelievable,” she huffed.

She rushed out of the room and down the hall to her sister’s room. She knocked feverishly on the door, but there was no answer. Charlotte continued down the hall and peered down from the top of the staircase. The stranger stood in the foyer talking to Rebecca. Charlotte made her way as casually as possible down the stairs.

“Oh, there’s Charlotte now,” Rebecca said. “I’d like you to meet Jasmine’s brother, Jake Krieg. He’s come to spend time with his sister during this difficult period.”

Jasmine’s brother? Reluctantly, Charlotte shook his hand.

“Jasmine never mentioned what a beautiful home she had. Or should I say, Mr. Tilton had.”

“We’ve loved it our whole lives,” Charlotte said pointedly. “It was the house our mother grew up in.”

Rebecca glanced at her sharply. “How long do you plan to stay, Mr. Krieg?”

“Please, call me Jake. However long my sister needs me, I suppose.”

“Interesting timing,” Charlotte remarked. “Now that she’s inherited a fortune.”

Rebecca coughed to cover her sister’s rudeness. “Jake, I’ve forgotten my manners. I shouldn’t keep you standing in the hall. Come inside. Charlotte will get you a drink.”

Rebecca shot Charlotte a warning glance.

“Scotch on the rocks?” Charlotte asked.

Jake balked. “A bit early for me. I was thinking more along the lines of water, but if you’d prefer that I be demanding, I can request sparkling.”

He smiled and Charlotte relaxed slightly. A sense of humor. That trait alone distinguished him from his sister.

Charlotte retreated to the kitchen while Rebecca guided Jake to the living room and motioned for him to sit.

Jake glanced around. “So where is my industrious sister? I take it she’s out.”

“I did hear the door about an hour ago, which is a little early for Jasmine. Perhaps she’s taking care of details for the funeral party.” Like what she’ll be wearing, Rebecca thought to herself.

“By herself?” Jake queried. “She might strain a muscle.”

Rebecca smiled. It seemed that Jake knew his sister well. “Have you come far?”

“Connecticut, but I work in Manhattan.”

“That’s not so far away. I’m surprised you’ve never visited Jasmine here before now.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably. “Well, Jasmine and I have a strained relationship at best. Every once in a while we get the urge to make an effort. You know how it is with family.”

Rebecca didn’t know. She and Charlotte were as close as two sisters could be.

At that moment, Charlotte reappeared with a tray of drinks. She nearly caught the edge of the tray on the doorframe and Rebecca held her breath until Charlotte squeaked past without incident. Charlotte’s dyspraxia, a condition that had once been known as clumsy child syndrome, made simple tasks more challenging. She held out the tray, nodding to the glass of water for Jake. Charlotte didn’t trust herself to hold out the glass while still holding the tray. Rebecca took her glass from the tray, allowing Charlotte to sit down with her own glass of iced tea.

“Jasmine and I have a strained relationship at best, too,” Charlotte said, having overheard Jake's comment. “I guess that’s family for you.”

Jake looked mildly uncomfortable and Rebecca tried to smooth things over. “What my sister means to say is that we think of Jasmine as our own family.”

“That’s encouraging news. I thought I was the only one willing to have her, and that’s not even all the time.”

“Is she expecting you?” Charlotte asked. “She didn’t mention any visitors.”

“I texted her that I’d be arriving about now, but she’s not very good about responding.” He shrugged. “I hope it’s not an inconvenience.”

“Not to us,” Rebecca replied, “but we’ll be moving out soon. How long do you intend to stay?”

The front door opened and Jasmine’s voice echoed in the house. “Is Jake here?”

Jake set down his glass on a nearby coaster. “I guess that’s my cue.” As he stood, Jasmine swept into the room, wearing a skin-tight black dress and a diamond necklace.

Charlotte wondered where Jasmine would be going in that outfit so early in the morning. Most likely a rendezvous. Her stomach turned at the thought.

“How are you?” Jake asked, moving forward to peck his sister’s cheek. The exchange was awkward, as though they didn’t typically show affection for each other.

“I’ll be better when I can redecorate this stuffy museum of a house,” she complained.

Jake’s eyebrows lifted. “Jasmine, maybe you should use that filter in your brain. The one that helps you think before you speak.”

Jasmine waved a dismissive hand in the sisters’ direction. “They don’t matter, Jake. Not anymore.” She linked her arm through Jake’s. “Now tell me what’s been going on with you. We haven’t spoken for ages.”

Expressionless, Charlotte and Rebecca watched as Jasmine left the room. In the doorway, Jake glanced over his shoulder and mouthed the word ‘sorry.’ Rebecca wondered what had happened in their childhood to create two such different temperaments.

The day of the funeral party was dry and bright. Despite its size, Oak Lodge was bursting at the seams with people who came to pay their respects to John Tilton and his family. He had requested that the party take place at his house, full of laughter and his favorite activities. A putting green had been set up on the grounds, not far from the tennis court. It was the only part of the will that made sense to the Tilton sisters. Naturally, the Westdale gossip mill was in overdrive, with most residents shocked by the contents of the will. No one could believe that John would leave his daughters penniless and homeless. They wondered what type of sorcery Jasmine practiced and a few even wondered if she’d share her tricks.

At the moment, Charlotte and Rebecca honored their father’s memory with a game of tennis, despite their dressy attire. Their father would have enjoyed the sight of them in black cocktail dresses, hitting a fuzzy green ball back and forth. Charlotte rarely played — her dyspraxia made tennis a difficult game for her — but Rebecca was more than proficient.

They were joined on the court by Francie and Kit, who were also decked out in respectful attire.

“Are you sure you don’t mind if we camp out at your house?” Charlotte asked for the umpteenth time.

“The more, the merrier on Thornhill Road,” Kit replied. She was looking forward to having roommates for a change. As an only child, she’d always craved the company of others. She much preferred a full house to an empty one.

“I wish I weren’t still living at home,” Francie complained. “I’d love for you both to stay with me.”

“There are already too many people wandering around Musgrove Manor,” Charlotte said. “Your mother wouldn’t like the idea of squeezing in two more.”

“It would hardly be squeezing,” Francie objected. Musgrove Manor was like a fortress, set behind high stone walls with more rooms than Francie had ever bothered to count. She glanced across the lawn to where her mother was engaged in polite conversation with other members of the Pilgrim Society, including Kit’s mother, Heloise, and Heloise’s personal assistant, Huntley James.