Page 96 of Luck of the Devil
Who would she have used to draw up the new will?
I logged into her bank account and went through her transactions, looking for anything that could have been a payment to an attorney. When I didn’t see anything from the past six months, I wondered if she used one of Dad’s partners. They wouldn’t have charged her.
But that would have been dumb. If she’d used one of my father’s friends, there was a good chance they would have told him. Had he already found her will? Had he already accessed the box?
Cold dread stole my breath, but I forced myself to take several deep breaths, in and out. I had to tackle one problem at a time. First, I needed to find out if there even was a will.
I checked the time on the laptop, sighing with frustration when I saw it was 7:48. Dad’s partners usually got to the office around eight, but I was anxious and impatient. My father knew I’d planned to talk to my grandparents. Had he suspected I’d talk to Aunt Hannah too? Had he used my day out of town to cover his tracks?
I decided this was important enough that I could go against convention and call the other attorneys on their personal cell phones. Being a partner’s daughter came with some perks.
I called Mitch Morgan first even though I doubted my mother would have used him. She’d found his womanizing distasteful, but I was the most familiar with him now. Since he’d asked me to take Hugo Burton’s case, and I’d solved it, I hoped he’d be more likely to give me answers.
I pulled up his name on my phone and placed the call.
“Harper,” Mitch said, his voice full of sympathy. “Once again, I’m so sorry about your mother. How are you doing?”
“I’m hanging in there,” I said. “And that’s actually why I’m calling.”
“Oh? Don’t worry about your job. You take off as much time as you need.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate it, but that’s not why I’m calling either.” I paused. “It occurred to me that since my parents were separated, my mother might have updated her will.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding surprised. “I suppose she might have.”
“I take it you didn’t update it for her.”
He chuckled softly. “No, Sarah Jane’s never been too fond of me, but I can look her up in the system and see if I find something.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I haven’t found a will in her house, but if she changed it recently, she might not have a copy here. Do you want me to call you back once you get to the office?”
“No need,” he said good-naturedly. “I came in early. I’m looking it up right now.” The sound of the clicking filled the silence for several seconds before he said, “I’m not seeing anything. Only the will she created with your father about fifteen years ago.”
Disappointment hit me hard. “Okay. Thanks for checking, Mitch.”
“Although…” he said, drawing out the word.
“Yeah?”
“It’s no secret your mother wasn’t my biggest fan, so it stands to reason she wouldn’t have asked me to draw up a new will, but she might have asked John David. They were much friendlier. And if he changed it, he probably did it on his own time, which would explain why it’s not in the system.”
“Do you do that often?” I asked, thinking about my father’s off-the-books deals. “Create contracts on your own time?”
“We try not to, but for simple things like this, we can and do. John David probably didn’t even bill her, especially since he and your father haven’t been seeing eye to eye lately.”
That caught my attention. “Why aren’t they getting along?” I sure hadn’t caught wind of it, but then again, I hadn’t been working in the office long.
“I have no idea,” he said with a sigh. “But your father can be mercurial, and John David is as steady as they come. I think he gets tired of the drama.”
I never would have described my father as mercurial and dramatic. Turned out I didn’t know him at all. Then again, my entire view of him came from my childhood, and what child truly knows their parent?
“Thanks, Mitch. I’ll call John David.”
“No problem,” he said. “And I know this pales in comparison to everything you’re dealing with, but you did a great job with the Hugo Burton case. I never expected you’d get it wrapped up so quickly. I’ll have more cases for you once you get back to work.”
“Thanks.” While I was eager for the work, I had no idea whether that offer would still stand if things went south with my father. I hung up and decided to call John David on his cell too. While I didn’t have his number in my phone, it was easily accessible with my mother’s address book.
“John David Hightower,” he answered, sounding professional.
