Jessie got another call. She didn’t recognize the number. Filled with renewed hope that Tanner had changed her mind, she quickly answered it.
“Ms. Tanner?”
“No. This is Mort Ryerson, Garland Moses’s estate lawyer. Is this Jessie Hunt?”
Jessie tried to hide both her disappointment and confusion.
“Yes, Mr. Ryerson. It’s me. I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize this number and thought it might be someone else. How can I help you?”
“Not a problem. I’m actually calling from my cell. I’m in the car on my way to Garland’s place. I was hoping you could meet me there since it’s the lunch hour. I’ve almost wrapped up all the details regarding the estate. But Garland left a gift for you at his house and requested that I show it to you in person. Once that’s resolved, everything will be complete.”
“Can it wait? I’m in the middle of a case.”
Trembley made a face at her that she didn’t understand.
“Actually, hold on one second, Mr. Ryerson,” she said before mouthing to Trembley, “What?”
“We’re at a dead end,” he whispered. “You have time. I’ll follow up here. Go. Get this finished.”
Jessie couldn’t think of a good reason not to, at least not one she was willing to share out loud.
“Are you still there, Mr. Ryerson?” she asked.
“I am.”
“I’ll adjust my schedule,” she said. “Meet you there in twenty minutes?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
*
When Jessie arrived, Mort Ryerson was sitting on the front step of Garland’s house. The front door was open. She parked in the driveway next to his car and took a moment to gather herself.
To Trembley, it must have seemed like she didn’t care about getting a gift from Garland. But that wasn’t it. What she couldn’t tell him, Mort Ryerson, or anyone was that she didn’t feel like she deserved a gift at all. Garland was dead because of her. Her ex-husband had killed him specifically to hurt her. That she would in some way benefit from his death seemed more than inappropriate. It just felt wrong.
But since saying that out loud was more painful than keeping it hidden inside, she put on a smile, got out of the car, and walked over. She just wanted to get it over with. The man wore a suit despite the weather and she could see beads of sweat on his bald head even from a distance.
“I already unlocked everything,” Ryerson said, standing up. “You know how elaborate Garland’s security measures are. I know you’re busy and didn’t want you to have to wait.”
“Thanks,” Jessie said. “So once this is done, the estate is resolved?”
“I still have a few things to wrap up, but as far as you’re concerned yes. I appreciate your help in the matter. As you know, what little family he had wasn’t all that interested.”
Jessie nodded. It had been a burden to go through the remnants of Garland’s life. Every memento opened a tiny wound, reminding her that he’d be alive now if not for the actions of her own ex-husband. But if helping settle his affairs was all that was being asked of her, then that seemed like a small request.
“Shall we end the suspense?” she asked. “Do you want to show me the gift he left me?”
“Let’s do it,” Ryerson said, leading her inside. Jessie noticed that he had a secretive smile on his face. She’d never seen him anything but somber. It was oddly unsettling.
They stood in the well-appointed living room, surrounded by furniture that had, in some cases, been hand-built by Garland himself. At first glance, the place had an old-fashioned feel. But Jessie knew that embedded throughout the home was all manner of technology, designed both for comfort and protection. She looked over at Ryerson, her eyebrows raised.
“I’m giddy with anticipation,” she said jokingly. “Where is it?”
“You’re looking at it,” he said, the smile no longer so secretive.
Jessie looked around, confused, searching for some gift-wrapped box.
“Where?”
“Everywhere,” Ryerson said, more excited than she’d ever seen him. “The house is your gift. He left it for you in an addendum to his will. I only found out myself this morning.”
“What?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“He specifically said you can do whatever you want with it—sell it, rent it out, bulldoze it and use the bones for kindling.”
Jessie stared at Ryerson, still not entirely sure this was real. He nodded in understanding.
“I had it appraised and the home value is in the one-point-three-million-dollar range, so maybe don’t go the kindling route. Garland did want me to convey one thought, however.”