Lone Wolf - Diana Palmer Page 0,39

charged with murder and sent to jail, he’ll get Mama’s estate, won’t he, Deputy?” she asked, her blue eyes wide with pain. “If I remember the law, a felon can’t inherit, is that right?”

The deputy felt terrible. He hesitated. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s just lovely,” she said, feeling strangely isolated from the world.

“We’ll get you the best lawyer we can find,” Butch said curtly. “J. L. Denton has a whole firm of them, and he’ll help if I ask him to.”

She looked up at Butch. He’d been so remote lately that she wondered if he didn’t want to see the last of her. But he seemed to care about her fate. “Do you think so?” she asked.

“I know so.” He turned back to the lawman. “Pressure was put on the coroner, I’m betting. He’s just one man, and if he has a family, they could be threatened.”

“Exactly what I thought. I hate to see a man get away with murder, much less try to blame it on an innocent woman,” he said shortly. “Not going to happen. I know the chief up in Aspen. I’ll talk to him.”

“Policemen have families, too,” Esther said sadly.

He chuckled. “This one doesn’t. He has a mean temper and most people are afraid of him.”

Esther felt more hopeful. “Okay. Thanks. What do I do in the meantime?”

“You talk to J. L.’s attorneys,” Butch said.

“Good idea. I’ll be in touch when I know more.”

“Thanks, Deputy,” Esther said.

He smiled. “No problem. See you.”

Butch walked him out. When he came back inside, his jaw was taut and his dark eyes were flashing. He pulled out his cell phone and pressed a number.

“Hello, J. L.? It’s Butch. I have a small problem and I need some help.” He went on to outline briefly what was going on. He listened, his eyes on Esther’s worried face. He smiled. “Yes, that’s what I thought. You will? I’ll owe you one. Sure thing. Thanks.”

He hung up. “J. L.’s going to contact his attorneys. One of them will be over in the morning to talk to you.”

Esther went close. He stiffened a little, but he didn’t touch her. She felt a brush of sorrow. They’d been so good together. Now it all seemed lost. “Thanks,” she said.

“Thank J. L.,” he said, and he forced a smile. “Let’s finish lunch, okay?”

She nodded. “Okay, Butch.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The attorney, Barton Frazier, arrived promptly at eight o’clock the next morning. Esther had arranged to come in an hour later at the Gray Dove so that she could talk to him at home. Her boss had been understanding and very kind.

Mr. Frazier accepted a mug of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table with her. Butch had already left for work, so there were just the two of them in the house.

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened the night your mother died,” Mr. Frazier said quietly. He was a tall man, dark headed and dark eyed, older than Butch. He inspired confidence.

She sighed. “My mother had lived with Darrin for several weeks. She had no judgment about men at all. He was brutal to her, demanding things all the time, expensive things. She’d refused to give him money to buy an expensive sports car the night she . . . died. He was drunk. She mouthed off at him and he picked her up and threw her down the staircase. She was barely conscious. She pulled off her ring . . . this ring.” She showed it to him. “She gave it to me. She’d already pushed her revised will into my purse the day before and told me to hold on to it. She was afraid. She always had some sort of premonition that she’d die violently. I think she knew, the day before, that Darrin was going to do something bad.”

He was taking notes. “You have the will?”

“Yes. Darrin sent some man, a Mr. Cameron, down here pretending to be an investigator for the Aspen authorities. Except he wasn’t. He saw the ring. He’d have told Darrin that I have it.” She looked up. “It’s worth millions of dollars.”

“And your mother’s estate?”

“Probably close to two hundred million dollars.” She sighed. “It’s mostly tied up in stocks and bonds and land. She owned several houses, many high-ticket cars, a closetful of fur coats . . .” She hesitated. “I suppose Darrin has hocked the furs and other easy-to-find antiques to get money for lawyers. He does have some mob ties to minor gangsters. Maybe they’re funding

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