The King of Lies - By John Hart Page 0,45

shade more than a rat’s ass for me. Right now, he’s laughing in his fucking grave.” I leaned over Hambly’s desk. I felt spit fly off my lips and didn’t care. “He was a first-class asshole and you can keep his money. You hear me. Keep it!”

I subsided backward as the last words left me. I’d never felt such rage, and it left me spent. For an instant, there was silence, broken only by the slight tremble in the old lawyer’s clenched fists. His voice, when he spoke, was tightly caged.

“I understand that you are under severe stress, so I’ll try to forget your blasphemy, but don’t ever come to this house again.” His eyes hinted at the strength that made him such a good lawyer. “Ever,” he reiterated. “Now, as your father’s attorney and the executor of his estate, I’ll tell you this: The will is valid. It goes into probate tomorrow. You may find that your position on this matter changes as your temper cools. If so, call me—at the office. As a final matter, I’ll tell you something else. I hadn’t planned to, but your behavior has changed my mind. Detective Mills has been to see me. She wanted to see your father’s will.”

If Hambly was watching for a reaction, he wasn’t disappointed. My anger fled, replaced by something less honorable, something cold and slick that coiled in my stomach like a snake. It was fear, and with it in me, I felt naked.

“At first, I denied her, but she returned with a court order.” Hambly leaned closer and spread his hands; he didn’t smile, although I could feel it in him. “I was forced to comply,” he said. “She was intrigued. You might wish to explain to her how fifteen million dollars does not interest you.” He straightened and his fingers snapped shut. “Now, my courtesy has come to an end, as has my patience. Any time you wish to offer your apology for desecrating my Sunday rest, I will consider it.” He gestured at the door. “Now, good day to you.”

My mind was awash, but one question had to be asked. “Does Mills know that Ezra cut Jean out of the will?” I asked.

“That question,” he replied, seeming to relax into himself, “is best presented to Detective Mills. Now go away.”

“I need to know, Clarence.” I held my hands out, palm up. “Please.”

“I’ll not interfere with her investigation. Take it up with her or leave it alone.”

“When did he cut her out? What date?”

“My obligation to you does not extend beyond that of executor and primary beneficiary to this will and the trust it establishes. Given the circumstances surrounding your father’s death and the police interest in the matter, it would be unwise, for either of us, to take this matter further. I intended no other impression. Once the will is in probate, you may contact me at any time during business hours to discuss any relevant matters. Beyond that, we have nothing to talk about.”

“What date was this will executed?” I demanded. A reasonable question, one within my rights.

“November fifteenth,” Hambly said. “Year before last.”

One week before my father disappeared.

I left, too angry to be scared. But I knew how it would play to the cops. If Jean knew that Ezra was going to cut her out of two million because of her relationship with Alex, it would be one more reason to kill him. That’s how Detective Mills would see it. Did Jean know? When did she know? When did Ezra cut her out? I could hear Mills asking those exact questions. But had she?

Damn Clarence Hambly and his petty vindictiveness!

Back in the truck, Bone scrambled into my lap and licked my face. I rubbed his back, glad for the company. I realized that for the past days, while addled by alcohol, grief, and anger, the world had moved on. Mills had not been idle; she’d targeted me. I was a suspect. The concept was too much. I couldn’t get my head around it. In the past day, I’d come to understand so many things, none of them pleasant. Now this. I had fifteen million dollars, but only if I surrendered what little remained of myself.

I sat in that driveway, under windows that looked like mirrored eyes, and dark thoughts twisted my mouth into a bitter smile as I thought of Ezra’s will and his last effort to manipulate me. My life was still a mess, but in this regard I knew something

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