My will is also enclosed, as well as some things you will need in your search for a certain item I cannot take the risk of naming in writing in case this should fall into the wrong hands. I have already discussed everything with my brother, and he is in total agreement that it should be like this. Anything I wished him to have, I have already sent to him.
Be well, and blessings to you all.
Bertholde.
P.S. - If Andel gives you any grief, tell him I said to go get fucked. (I have always wanted to say that to him!) He is a pompous blowhard who needs to remember his ego has grown like a flatulent pig over the past few hundred years. Although I do love the little twerp.
Lina couldn’t hold back the laugh. It started as a burping hiccup of a snort, rolled into belly-aching guffaws…then transitioned into sobbing on Zack’s shoulder. She handed him the letter. He held it up so the other three men could also read it.
They all laughed at the same point she had, so she knew they’d finished it. Peeling herself out of Zack’s lap, she ripped off a wad of paper towels from the roll and blew her nose. Then she tucked into the rest of the box.
Books. And more books. Ten in all, seven of them handwritten journals, most of which appeared to be in French.
“Great,” she groused. “Someone overnight me a Rosetta Stone course.” There were also four small, carefully wrapped stone carvings, one of a wolf, one of a dragon, another of a bear. The fourth Lina couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a lion or a tiger or some other sort of big cat, but they all agreed it was feline. Then there was the large manila envelope that contained Bertholde’s will, as well as other papers, including a set of keys on a ring.
The last item in the box was a mystery. Literally. An intricately carved wooden puzzle box, approximately two feet long, six inches wide and high. She played with it for a moment, then shrugged and handed it over to Jan, who eventually passed it on to Rick, then Kael, then Zack. None of them could open it.
She handed the manila envelope from legal hell to Jan. “You deal with it. Tell me what to do and where to go and come with me.” She felt exhausted, and not just from the trip to Yellowstone. Even more from all the emotional developments of the past twenty-four hours. It wasn’t even noon yet.
Lina grabbed the three books that were in English, or had English content, the stone figurines, and the puzzle box, and tromped up to her room. She put everything on her bed and nearly ran into Rick on her way back down to get her laptop.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m not institutionalized in Chattahoochee, yet, so that’s something. However, the day is still pretty dang young.” She pushed past him, found where she’d left her laptop bag in the study, and hauled it back up to their bedroom. She closed the door behind her.
She’d taught her men early that was the sign for, “Knock first, or die.” She put on music for background noise, fired up her laptop, then settled in to read what she could of the books.
“Oh.” She did a little research and ordered herself a Rosetta Stone course in French.
Never hurts to learn this shit.
The first book she picked was a hardcover journal that had a handwritten date of 1925 inside the front cover. It looked it, too. Green, but the cover was threadbare and battered. Inside, Bertholde had made copious notes in the margins of the yellowed paper over the years in different colors of ink and pencil markings. Some of the ink from a ballpoint pen, and some from a fountain pen. The original entries were written by a variety of people and detailed first- and secondhand accounts of dealings with the cockatrice.
These suckers were assholes. Not that the fact had escaped Lina after her dealings with Edgar and Lenny, but it was nice to have extra backup. They made the mob look like a bunch of tree-hugging sweethearts.
Murder. Destruction. The occasional raping and pillaging. More murder. And, ah, yes, that perennial favorite, murder.
Unfortunately, none of this gave Lina even the slightest clue as to how the cockatrice managed to find out what the tablet was, or what it looked like.
She put the book aside and started skimming through the others, hoping something, anything, would jump out at her.
Nothing.
Well, not nothing. She learned more than she ever hoped to know about the damn cockatrice, and some of the other races that had allied with them against the humans and other shifters.
After two hours of reading, she heard a polite knock on the door. With a sigh, she put her book aside. “It’s okay. Come on in. guys.”
Jan and Rick poked their heads in. “Are you all right, lovely?” Jan asked.
She nodded. “I’m just…coping.” While she hadn’t known Bertholde for very long, she’d immediately liked the woman. It sucked losing her after only knowing her for a very short time.
The men entered and perched on either side of her on the bed. Rick held the paperwork from the manila folder. “Lina, I don’t know how to break this to you other than to say it. She left everything to you.”
“What do you mean, everything?”
Jan shrugged. “Everything. She made you the executrix of her estate, and left everything to you.”
Lina tried to let that sink in. “Everything?”
The men nodded, but didn’t reply.
She chewed on that. “Define everything,” she finally said.
“Well, we made a few calls. We were able to contact her attorney in France. Her estate is worth over eighty million dollars.”
Lina fell back on the bed, laughing in disbelief. Money wasn’t an issue since meeting her men. She had her own income, a result of Edgar’s overconfident planning, which left everything to her after she ended up killing the treacherous bastard, who turned out to be a cockatrice, in self-defense. Jan and Rick had their own money.
“Are you shitting me?” she finally asked when she could find her voice.
“No,” Jan said. “And yes, Andel is having a fit. He wants access to her estate and papers for the other Seer and the attorney won’t allow it, even though it’s her brother. From what I gathered from my conversation with her attorney, her brother could care less. It’s Andel that’s raising a stink. So, guess where we’re going?”
“Outer Mongolia?”
“Right,” Rick said. “France.”
“That wasn’t my guess.”
He stroked her cheek. “I can read your mind, love.”
“Cheater.”
He grinned. “You aren’t mad at me.”
“No, I’m not mad at you.” She let out a frustrated sigh and turned to Jan. “I just want an easy life. Is that too much to ask? I didn’t ask to be a goddess or a Seer. I just wanted a normal life.”
Jan propped himself up on one sexy elbow next to her. “Complaining, lovely?”
She gave him a frustrated groan. “No. Of course not. Well…yes, I am. Fuck.” She stared at the ceiling. Before she met Jan and Rick, she’d been convinced she was going to die an old maid as Zack’s fag hag. “Has Kael tracked down his friend about the tablet, yet?”
“No,” Jan said. “He’s working on it.” He glanced at Rick. She suspected they’d already talked about something and were in rare agreement. “We think it’s best we head down to Arcadia today instead of waiting.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Rick said, “we don’t know who is responsible for the murder, and while circumstantial evidence points to the third killer of Kael’s family, we don’t know for sure. There could be more than one person out there. They could have had other coconspirators. Like whoever provided Lenny with those special cuffs that we couldn’t get out of. Not to mention, if the third guy was a common shifter race, like a wolf or cat or something, that makes him even more dangerous. We already called Brodey and his brothers. They invited us to come down sooner. In fact, Brodey insisted upon it.”