Page 104 of Luck of the Devil
He pulled into the parking lot and put the car in park, leaving it running. “If you need anything, give me a call. And if you need a gun, there’s one in the glove box. It has a fully loaded clip, and there’s a spare one in there too.”
I cocked a brow. “Is it registered?”
“Of course,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Can you imagine how long the multiple law enforcement officers who pull me over would lock me up for if they found unregistered guns in my car?”
Guns. Plural. But I didn’t ask about the others. If this one was registered, the others were too. As for why he might need more than a single handgun? That seemed like a question for later too.
“Thanks.”
He gave me a long look, and for a moment, the air felt heavier. “Be careful, Harper. I can’t help thinking your call to Deveraux may have stirred up some shit.”
“I know,” I said, apologetically. “And you know I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean for me.” He gave me another long look then got out and walked into the back door of the building without a backward glance.
I watched him walk away, noticing the set of his shoulders. I felt an unexpected pang of something I didn’t understand. I told myself it was because I was stunned by his suggestion that my call to Deveraux could come back to bite me. Maybe Deveraux might think I was guilty by association to James, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t what he’d meant.
Keith’s call must have spooked us both.
I was still sitting in the passenger seat, so I walked around the car and got behind the wheel, then headed to Wolford.
Once I got to the bank, I carried my papers inside and walked up to a teller. “I’m here to access a safe deposit box.”
“What’s the box number?” she asked.
“One-seventy-two.” Thank God for the will.
“Okay, follow me,” she said, walking toward an open vault. A metal box was on the table, and she used a key to open it and flip through small, index-sized cards. She pulled one out and looked it over. Recognition filled her eyes. “This belongs to Sarah Jane Adams.”
“I’m her daughter,” I said. “Her will states that I get access. And I have a key.” I held out the papers toward her.
“I don’t know…” she said, looking leery. “I’ll need to get my manager.”
“That’s okay, Megan,” a woman said from behind me. “I’ll take care of this. You head on back to the counter.” The woman took the teller’s place and lowered her voice. “Harper?”
Given my reputation, it wasn’t unusual for people to know who I was, and they usually weren’t happy to be in my presence. But I’d hoped to escape that attitude in Wolford. I steeled my back. “Yes.”
She moved closer and lowered her voice. “I’m Jill, the bank’s assistant manager. Sarah Jane was in about three weeks ago and opened a bank account and a safe deposit box. She put your name on both and said she’d get you to sign the signature card. She asked that I keep everything hush-hush. Something about going through a divorce, although I warned her that even though your name was on the checking account she opened, her husband might be entitled to half until the divorce was final. She said she was okay with that, but then she never brought your signature card back. You said you have a will granting access?”
“It’s a copy,” I said. “I think the original might be in her box.”
She took the papers, gave them a cursory glance, then handed them back. “Good enough for me.” She centered the signature card the other woman had pulled out on the table. “I’ll just have you sign on the line below your mother’s.”
I signed under the two times my mother had accessed the box.
“I will warn you,” she said as she picked up the card. “Your father was in here a few days ago, trying to access the safe deposit box.”
My mouth dropped open. How did he know about it?”
“He said he had a key, but Sarah Jane had been so adamant about keeping the contents away from him. All he had was a copy of her old will, so I told him he was out of luck. He said he’d be back with an injunction, but so far, he hasn’t returned.”
So, he knew about the new box and really wanted the contents, but how had he found out? I know John David hadn’t told him. Had he known about my mother’s new will? Had he purposely sent me to my grandparents, thinking they might have a copy of the new will or a means to get into the box?
Unaware of my inner turmoil, she gave me a grim smile. “Okay. Let’s open your box.”
I followed her into the vault and watched as she inserted her key, then she took my key and inserted it into the second lock before turning both keys. She pulled the box from the wall and set it on a table in the center of the small space.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” she said as she walked out of the room.
