Blind Faith - Sharon Sala Page 0,73
where the security was better than the men Parks put on her tail.
And now, because of Merlin, it was hers.
She walked across the room to that same overstuffed chair and sat down beside the fireplace. It needed a fire. She pulled up the lawyer’s phone number and made the call.
“Gordon Law Firm.”
“I’m calling on behalf of Arthur Merlin. May I please speak to Mr. Gordon?”
“One moment, please,” the secretary said, and put her on hold.
Wyrick leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, waiting.
“Hello? Wyrick, is this you?”
“Yes. Merlin died a few minutes ago. I’m supposed to let you know.”
“Oh dear...bless his heart and yours. I’m so sorry. I’ll get the ball rolling on my end, but in the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, but thank you. As you know, he didn’t want an obituary posted or a memorial service. I will claim his ashes at a later date, and scatter them according to his wishes.”
“Yes, and thank you for calling,” Rodney said. “If you don’t already have your own lawyer, I’ll be happy to stay on as yours when the transfer of property goes into your name.”
“Thank you,” Wyrick said. “In the meantime, let me know if there’s anything I need to do.”
“Yes, I will...and again, my condolences,” he said, and hung up.
Wyrick laid the phone aside and thought about going to make coffee. Instead, she turned on the gas starter in the fireplace and lit the kindling beneath the logs. Flames flared, licking the logs above them, and soon there was a fire.
She sat in silence, staring out the window, watching for Merlin’s ride out, and thought about her life, wondering how it would end.
She wouldn’t ever marry.
She couldn’t have children.
Likely, she would wind up like Merlin one day—old, alone and rich as sin. But as long as Charlie Dodge outlived her, she wouldn’t ask for anything more.
An hour passed, and it was moving toward the end of the second hour when a long black hearse appeared at the gates and then came up the drive.
They were here.
She sent Ora a quick text to let her know, then waited. She wouldn’t ever want the job of collecting the dead, even though she accepted that someone had to do it, but watched as they got out with the gurney, rolling it toward the house and up the steps.
The doorbell signaling their arrival tolled throughout the mansion as Wyrick got up to let them in. One of the men introduced himself, and the funeral home for which he worked, but it all went over Wyrick’s head.
“This way,” she said, and led them through the foyer, then down the grand hall to Merlin’s room, where Ora was standing at the door to oversee Merlin’s exit.
Wyrick watched them lifting him from the bed onto the gurney, then covering him from head to toe before fastening the straps across his body. When they were finished, the same man nodded at Wyrick and gave her his card.
“Our condolences for your loss. We will be in touch.”
Wyrick led the way back to the door, silently held it open as they rolled him out, then watched as they carried him down the steps to the hearse.
A few minutes later, Ora came up the hall with her bag over her shoulder.
“My work here is finished. You may get a survey from the company later, but I just want you to know that, in spite of the sadness of our meeting, it has been a true pleasure to get to know you. I understand why Merlin was so fond of you. You are genuine, which is a rarity in this world.”
“Thank you, and thank you for all you did for him,” Wyrick said. “You have a kind and gentle spirit...a good fit for your calling.”
Ora smiled.
“I’ll see myself out. Have a good life here, and make this place your home now. He said you’ll do wonders with it.”
Wyrick felt a spurt of joy. “He did?”
“Oh yes. He talked often about what you might do with it. I suspect he’ll be looking over your shoulder now just to see what magic you create.”
Wyrick liked the thought of that.
“Then I guess I’ll have to wow him,” she said.
Ora left, and now Wyrick was alone. She’d only ever been in a few rooms in this place, and now it belonged to her. In a day or two, she’d take a tour, but right now she just wanted to go back downstairs to what was familiar.
Fifteen
It was