Page 21 of The Inquirer

I’d half-expected Bradyn to barge into my cabin and tell me to get out, especially after the Huxleys went to dinner with him. Actually, I thought they’d all come straight here after he convinced them that I’d come to the ranch knowing who they were and what I wanted from them. Just because they’d met Min and the Douglasses didn’t mean they had to believe that I hadn’t been intentionally dishonest when I first arrived.

When no one came, I kept working. I’d stay out of Bradyn’s way, and he’d stay out of mine. I’d finish what I was doing for the case and then go home. This would all just become my first big case, the jumping-off point for a great career.

And maybe one day I’d be able to think of this case without thinking about Bradyn.

I sighed and closed my eyes.

I was grateful that this case gave me the opportunity to make a real difference in people’s lives. I never took cases where I thought I’d be hurting someone who either didn’t deserve it or who had asked me to discover something potentially painful. Finding a cheating spouse or biological parents made up a big chunk of PI time.

I appreciated the importance of doing those things, but this case had the potential to be huge on a national scale if it got out. I didn’t want publicity – though it wouldn’t exactly hurt my reputation to be able to count on this as a good reference – but I liked the idea of helping right some of history’s wrongs.

No one could go back in time and prevent what’d happened to the millions of people who’d been wronged, and the passage of time made it virtually impossible to hold any specific people responsible. If Min could build a case that proved the Traylors not only knew about what their ancestors had done, but had been continuing to cover it up to prevent anyone else from finding out, it’d be a big deal.

Which meant I needed to make sure everything I had was checked and double-checked. Every piece of information was recorded clearly so that Min could put together all the relevant information.

What I’d been doing since I’d left the Huxleys’s house yesterday had been researching the Traylor family, but not focusing on their past. I’d already connected the Calverts to the Huxleys and the Douglasses. Now, I needed to see if I could find any proof that they’d been covering things up.

The problem was, I didn’t exactly know what I was looking for. Finding biological parents meant census records, birth certificates, hospital records, that sort of thing. Hospital records were tricky when it came to legalities, but the others were available to anyone if they knew where to look.

While I’d had a different goal looking into Carmine’s background, it’d been the same type of research needed. A DNA test would tie things up for Kathie once I figured out the best way to get a sample from one of the Traylors.

What I was looking for now wouldn’t be that simple. I had to prove that current members of the Traylor family knew what their ancestors had done and were actively working to keep it a secret. If all they were doing was not talking about what they knew, it’d be impossible to prove, and I wasn’t even sure if silence could be considered a cover-up, anyway.

Maybe they could be held accountable for not offering the information, but I wasn’t a lawyer, so I didn’t know. I needed to find something I could give Min as physical proof, something she could use in court, if it came to that.

I didn’t want to think about what it would do to Bradyn if this came out in a big public way. I had a feeling the Huxleys wouldn’t let him be surprised by it, though. I didn’t think it’d be a good idea to tell him what was going on, but that wasn’t my decision to make. Either way, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

But that wasn’t my business. He wasn’t my business, not anymore. Not ever. I had a job to do.

Dewey Cardinal, the PI I’d trained under, had said to follow the money when it came to relationship cases, so if it’d been a cheating spouse, I’d be going through bank account info and phone records that the person who hired me could get or at least give me permission to get. If it was a divorce case where one spouse wanted proof of infidelity or criminal behavior or that sort of thing, I’d look for hotel charges, money being transferred to offshore accounts or in another person’s name, life insurance policy changes. I’d follow them, see who they met with and talked to, what types of appointments they’d have, like if they’d been preparing for a divorce by speaking to a lawyer…

Yahtzee.

The Traylors might have had a shit ton of character flaws – some big ones if they were holding onto this secret – but they weren’t stupid. They’d created a huge legacy without this ever getting out. Successful politicians and businessmen didn’t stay successful by being dumb. Even if their IQs weren’t that high, they were smart enough to hire the right people. If I was going to try to hide something that could potentially destroy everything that generations of my family had built, I’d want to know as much about all the different consequences as I could.

Which meant I’d need to speak to a lawyer.

Conversations between a lawyer and their client were privileged, and I doubted the Traylors would hire someone who’d easily break that confidence, but it was a place to start. A family like theirs wouldn’t just want any lawyer, especially not for something this delicate, which meant they probably had the same lawyer or, at least, the same firm, for as many generations back as possible.

That particular lawyer and/or firm would have almost as much stake in things as the Traylors if they had a history of being retained by that family. Losing them would hurt their own bottom line, and that was the last thing any smart lawyer would do.

All right, maybe not any lawyer, but I’d yet to meet one who was a decent person.

I pushed aside that thought before it could go any further.

I just needed to figure out how to find out who their lawyer was. If I’d still been on speaking terms with Bradyn, I might’ve asked him. I would’ve lied about why, but I could’ve gotten the information. That wasn’t possible now, which meant I’d need to get a little more creative.

Stretching my arms over my head, I stood up. My spine and other joints popped, and my muscles groaned. I’d been sitting in the same position for too long. I glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was after noon. I’d completely lost track of time.

My stomach growled, like it’d suddenly remembered that I’d barely had breakfast and had skipped lunch. Making myself something to eat would give my brain time to work while my body was busy. I’d solved more than one case while cleaning or cooking or exercising, that sort of thing.

I’d taken two bites of my grilled cheese sandwich when it hit me.

Probate.

I didn’t know how long wills had been around, but I figured it had to be ever since there were lawyers. Whenever it’d started didn’t matter. What mattered was that most people – especially most rich people – had lawyers draw up wills for their estates. I didn’t know all the lingo or the process, but what I did know was that probate records could tell me a lot.

I’d used it as a source before. Two years ago, I’d been hired to find the birth father of a co-worker’s girlfriend. I’d ended up using probate records to track him down. I hadn’t thought of it with this investigation, though. After all, I was going so far back in time that the Douglass family hadn’t had property. They’d been property.

---