“What do you prefer?”
“We’ve got steaks in the freezer. I can whip up a salad and open a bottle of cabernet. Feel like barbecuing?”
“Fantastic.” He threw his arm around his wife’s shoulders, and together they walked into the kitchen. Their domestic life had seen rare interludes of tranquillity. Decker’s older daughter seemed happily married, the boys were doing well in college back east, Hannah was growing up, and Rina was happy with her life. She had been teaching part-time at the local Jewish high school for several years now. A couple of semesters ago, she had started a garden club. Initially, the school had laughed at her but had thrown her and her three students a bone in the form of a dry plot of land that was collecting weeds. Within a few months, the ground was giving forth broccoli, peas, brussels sprouts, carrots, and a variety of lettuces and cabbages. Nobody was laughing anymore.
Rina and her loyal band of followers, now up to five members, had just finished plowing under the dying vegetables to give the ground some nutrients for the fall planting. Right before summer, she had marched into the principal’s office and asked to teach an elective class in agriculture next year:
“Kids should know that food doesn’t grow in supermarkets.”
Yesterday she’d been talking about getting a couple of chickens. Decker didn’t know whether she was serious or not.
“I got an interesting call this afternoon,” she told him over dinner. “From a man named Arthur Mortimer.”
Decker stopped chewing momentarily. “Cecily Eden’s lawyer.”
“Exactly. Where do you know him from?”
He took a sip of wine. “His name came up when I interviewed Cecily’s daughters. What does he want with you?”
“Well, it seems that I’m in Cecily’s will.”
“Really?” A pause. “Hmmm.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Decker said. “Nothing at all.”
“I don’t buy that. What’s the problem, Peter?”
“The daughters are a strange pair.”
“Did they ever find the missing money?”
“The alleged missing money. And no, they didn’t find it.”
“Why alleged, Peter? Weren’t you the one who first noticed the bit of sweater sticking out of the drawer?”
“Yes, that would be me. You know, I did a little research online about the women. Didn’t find a thing on Meredith Eden, but I did find out a heap about Edwina, particularly her husband. His name is Garth Lettiger, and he was indicted for embezzlement about five years ago.”
“Was he convicted?”
“No.”
“So maybe he was innocent.”
“If a major firm brings those kinds of charges against you, you’re never completely innocent.”
“Maybe he was a sacrificial lamb?”
“Maybe the lawyers just couldn’t make the charges stick. I wonder if Garth knew about Cecily’s money and put his wife up to something.”
“Edwina stole the cash from her mother?”
“Maybe she rationalized that it was a loan. She didn’t seem shocked that the money was missing.”
“You think Edwina killed her mother?”
“No, I’m not saying that. There’s no evidence that Cecily died of anything but a heart attack. I’m just thinking that maybe Edwina helped herself to the money a long time ago and just never told her mother or sister about it.”
“Ripping off her own mother?”
“Who better?” Decker sliced off another piece of rib eye. He had cooked it perfectly: medium rare, with a good crust on the outside. “Or maybe Cecily gave Edwina money to help with her husband’s legal defense and never told Meredith about it. Or maybe one of them stole the money from under my nose. I wasn’t keeping an eye on them all the time.”
“That still doesn’t explain why the sweater drawer wasn’t closed properly. And it doesn’t explain why the gate was locked and the front door was open. All that happened before the sisters arrived.”
Decker thought a moment. “Then maybe one of them arrived before you did, Nina. Seeing her mother dead, she decided to help herself to the cash. But before she could call in the death, you showed up.”
“That’s absolutely morbid.”
“I’ve known families who raided the safe-deposit box as soon as the body was declared dead, in order to prevent the IRS from seizing the assets. If Edwina or Meredith had been there before you, it would explain the front door being unlocked, the gate being locked, and the sweater sticking out. I wonder if either of them made any big deposits in the bank lately.”
“Could you check that out?”
“I don’t know why a judge would give me access. I have no proof that either of them was stealing. Just a hunch.” He took another sip of cabernet. “Be careful, Rina. Usually, family members don’t like non-family members swiping what they consider to be their inheritance.”
“I won’t be the only non-family member. Mr. Kwan was in Cecily’s will as well.”
This time Decker put down the fork. “Huh! How do you know that?”
“Because I asked Mr. Mortimer if I was the only nonrelative who’d be there.” She swirled her wine. “I keep wondering why on earth I’d be in Cecily’s will. I can only conclude that Cecily willed Mr. Kwan and me many of her plants. I’m sure her daughters will be happy to get rid of them.”
“That makes sense. Also makes me feel better. It’s true. Cecily’s daughters wouldn’t want them. I’m not sure I want them.” Decker shook his head. “Just what we need. More plants.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, what I’d do with all of her plants.” Rina smiled. “I’ve come up with several ideas.”
“Uh-oh!”
“Don’t worry, Peter. Except for the rare ones, I wouldn’t keep them.”
Decker grinned. “A rare burst of common sense.”
“Stop that.” Rina sipped her wine. “One of my ideas was to donate them to the Arboretum. We could take a tax write-off.”
“Beautiful.”
“Or… I’ve been thinking about building a greenhouse at school. What do you think?”
“That’s a thought.” Decker looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Who’s going to build it?”
Rina winked at him. Decker pretended not to notice.
In a brown long-sleeved dress, legs crossed at the ankles, Rina tried to look innocuous and inconspicuous as she sat upright in the chair provided by Arthur Mortimer, Esquire. Lee Kwan sat next to her, dressed in a khaki uniform, his white hair slicked back off his forehead. His face was blank, as were his eyes. He hadn’t spoken a word since coming in the office.
Rina regarded the family members, who looked more anxious than somber. There was Edwina Lettiger in her sensible black dress and her husband, Garth, in his black suit. Their twenty-something daughters, Lily and Brooke, were dressed in dark clothing that dramatically set off their long white-blond hair. Tall and lithe, the girls seemed more excited than nervous. Meredith Eden, garbed in a black shirt and pants, sat completely isolated, with red-rimmed eyes and a scowl on her face.
Cecily had planned well for this day, writing a will to avoid probate court. Her instructions were clear. Each of her granddaughters was awarded fifty thousand dollars in cash. The girls screamed upon hearing the news and hugged each other. The rest of Cecily’s estate-her house and its contents, all of her stocks and bonds, as well as the remaining cash in her accounts-was to be divided equally between her two daughters.
“Cash” turned out to be a significant wad: three hundred thousand dollars. Both sisters gasped when they heard the amount. With big smiles, they ran to each other and hugged like long-lost lovers. It seemed odd to Rina that Cecily would keep twenty thousand dollars in cash in a dresser drawer when she had so much in the bank and in a brokerage account. She couldn’t help but think that maybe the sisters had made up the entire story. But what would be the point of doing that-of pointing a finger at Lee Kwan-if they couldn’t file an insurance claim?