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The phone rang and Nan listened to footsteps above as Aanders crossed the floor to answer the phone.

"Mom?” Aanders shouted down the stairs. “Jane and Sadie want to know what time you'll be ready for them. They want to talk to you."

"Tell them to give us another half hour."

"How's Aanders doing?” Mr. Bakke said.

"As well as can be expected.” Compassion tugged at Nan as the agony of her son's sorrow engulfed her. Tim had been a constant presence in Aanders’ life. Having a friend as popular and athletic as Tim had made it easier for Aanders to endure the taunting he'd suffered from his peers. At times, living in a mortuary had its benefits. But those times were rare. Aanders was courted yearly around Halloween when his friends wanted to prove they were brave enough to touch dead bodies or when they wanted to see who could endure a dead body when the lights were turned off. The rest of the year he was the mortician's son. An outcast.

"I was surprised to find Aanders in better spirits,” Nan said. “Yesterday he was teary. This morning he was up early playing video games in his room."

Mr. Bakke held his gaze firmly on Richard Fossum's face.

"He hasn't asked to view Tim's body like he did yesterday. That worries me. It's like he's in denial,” Nan said.

Nan ushered Mr. Bakke and the two sisters into her kitchen. Mr. Bakke pulled a chair out for Jane and lifted a pan of toffee bars from her arms.

Inhaling deeply, Nan said, “My favorite. My absolute favorite. You usually save these for special occasions. What are we celebrating today?"

Jane shot an accusing glance at Sadie as they sat at the table. Nan poured coffee and joined them as Jane cut into the warm bars.

"We thought you needed something special because of the Fossums,” Sadie said.

"That's really sweet.” Nan closed her eyes and savored the first bite. She realized this was the first good sensation she'd experienced since the accident had claimed the lives of the Fossum family. She let the pleasure surround her as she took another bite.

"It's nice to have Mr. Bakke help with the preparations, isn't it, dear?” Sadie said. She directed a scowl toward her sister who folded and refolded her paper napkin for the tenth time. “I know Mr. Bakke's certainly been a great help to us over the years."

Sadie reached across the table and patted Jane's hand. “Of course he's more than a handyman to you, isn't he, Sister?” Pulling her hand away, she yanked the napkin from Jane's grasp.

Jane's glare scalded Sadie. She picked up a table knife and sliced heavily through a toffee bar. She yanked a clean napkin from the napkin holder and placed the bar in the center. Leaning over, she laid the napkin on the floor. Jane patted Belly's back as he gulped the treat down in two swallows. The dog looked up anticipating more. Jane picked bits of shredded napkin from his jowls.

Mr. Bakke crossed his arms over his chest and quietly sank into his chair.

The group finished their coffee; tension grew between the elderly guests. “ Nan, dear. We have something we need to talk to you about,” Sadie said, ending Nan 's toffee reverie.

"About the Fossum family?"

"Not specifically. But it does have something to do with your work,” Sadie said.

The sound of baubles clinking against the table drew Nan 's gaze to Sadie's wrist. Nan gently fingered one of the bright glass jewels. “You seem so serious. What's on your mind?"

As Sadie removed her bracelet and held it up for Nan to see, Jane blurted, “Oh for Pete sakes. Tell her. Get this over with before I faint."

Mr. Bakke leaned toward Jane. “I'm going back to my cabin while you ladies discuss business."

"What's going on, Sadie? Are you ill?” Concern crept across Nan 's face.

"It's not that simple,” Sadie said.

Jane's voice trembled. “We're going to lose the resort.” Clutching her stomach she turned toward Sadie. “There. Now she knows.” Flicking her wrist to dismiss her sister's inability to spread the word, Jane said, “You should have been the one to tell her. Not me."

"Why me? Why do I have to do everything?"

"Okay you two, quit bickering,” Nan said. “This resort's been in your family for years. How could you possibly lose it?"

"Because of that horse's ass Carl Swanson. He insists the resort belongs to him.” Sadie stood and walked to the window.

"What? Carl Swanson, the deputy?"

"That snake thinks our mother got the resort from his grandfather through illegal means.” Jane wadded her second napkin into a tiny clump.

"The deed is in your name, isn't it?” As the question escaped Nan 's lips, another more pressing question surfaced. “What do you mean it has something to do with my work?"

Sadie inched her gaze from the floor to Nan 's anxious face. “Carl told us if he wins the lawsuit, he won't honor our lease with you."

"What?” Nan reached for the back of the chair. “How could Carl possibly get ownership if it's in your name?"

"Because he filed a Constructive Trust Lawsuit."

"What on earth is that?"

"It's complicated,” Sadie said, “but from what I understand, Carl's claiming his Grandfather told his aunt he planned to leave his estate and all his holdings to Carl's father. The aunt claims the grandfather never intended to give the resort to our mother. It's a lot of legal mumbo jumbo, but our attorney put it in simple terms so we could understand it."

Processing the information, a woozy heat engulfed Nan. The statement that Carl wouldn't honor the lease grew more menacing as she realized the consequences. “Did your attorney give any indication of how the lawsuit might turn out? Will there be a trial?"

"There won't be a trial. It's up to Judge Kimmer to make a ruling."

"Now I know why Carl's been avoiding me,” Nan said. “The last few times I've stopped by Paul's office, Carl was there. He disappeared right after I got there. And, come to think of it, the other night he backed out of going to dinner with us. That's not like Carl to turn down a free meal."

"Carl's a weasel,” Sadie said. “He knows there's a dirty deed afoot and he doesn't have the balls to talk to you face-to-face."

"Is this something you just found out?” Nan demanded.

"No,” Jane said glaring at her sister. “She's known for quite some time and put off telling you. She thought you'd be upset."

"Upset? Of course I'm upset. If he won't honor the lease, I'll have to find a new location for the mortuary. I can't afford to do that.” Nan pointed toward a cabinet drawer and said, “Thank goodness that funeral home in Minneapolis offered me a job. I got another letter from them last month. They're willing to provide housing for a year while we settle in. But if I have to move, I'll never realize my father's dream. He wanted this business to be passed on to Aanders."

Nan gestured in frustration. “I can't believe you held off telling me. Selling a business and relocating takes time.” Fighting back the urge to cry, she added, “What am I going to do if Carl wins the case?"

Sadie watched fear cloud Nan 's ability to think past the pending devastation.

"See. I told you. I told you to tell her earlier,” Jane said. “Talk about not having balls."

"It's not a matter of balls,” Sadie said. “It's a matter of setting off an alarm when it isn't necessary.” Sadie stabbed her finger toward Jane. “If you thought she should know, then why didn't you tell her? You're just as much to blame as I am."

"Someone should have told me,” Nan said. Placing her elbows on the table she buried her face in her hands. “Maybe Paul's marriage offer isn't such a bad idea."