Page 17 of Fake-Off with Fate
She cocks an eyebrow. “I work with your dad, remember?”
After releasing a loud laugh, I announce, “So, you know everything there is to know.” She nods her head. “Pretty much.”
“Victor MacDonald’s supposed heir has been found, and he wants to claim his inheritance,” I tell her.
Marcy nearly chokes on her cider. “How can he do that? Isn’t there a statute of limitations or something?”
Shrugging, I answer, “I don’t know. All I know is that we need some legal advice and we need it fast.”
“What does your father say?”
“My dad is … um … well.” Based on nothing more than instinct, I decide to trust her. “My dad is out of town with my mom. I told him I’d cover for him. He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s gone.”
“Why?”
“He says he doesn’t want anyone to feel abandoned by him, but it’s my guess he doesn’t want to face questions regarding why he’s gone away.” Marcy looks puzzled, so I explain, “He’s been ignoring my mom since he became mayor and he’s trying to convince her not to leave him.”I hope I don’t regret not asking her to sign that nondisclosure agreement.
“This is why I like numbers so much,” she announces. Before I can ask what she means, she explains, “People are complicated. Numbers aren’t. Take your parents’ relationship. Your father thinks he’s doing the right thing for the town, but he’s not there for your mother. Numbers aren’t so nuanced. They just are what they are.”
Marcy and I spend the next few minutes making small talk, when a familiar face walks into the bakery. It’s my neighbor and old friend, Clara Johnson. We were inseparable in grade school, but we kind of drifted apart in high school. Then we went to different colleges, and we rarely saw each other after that.
“Hang on a second,” I tell Marcy. I stand up and call out, “Clara!” She turns in my direction and meets me halfway. “How are you?” I ask. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”
Even though she appears a bit harried, she seems happy to see me. “Ashlyn, hi. I’m okay. Actually, I’m good. How are you?”
Tipping my head from side-to-side, I answer, “Life is busy, you know?”
“Tell me about it. I have two kids, so I know something about busy.” Clara got pregnant in college, which means her oldest must be around eleven now. It’s strange to think of someone as young as us with a baby, let alone a middle schooler.
“My mom says you’re still next door. I’m sorry about your divorce.”
“Don’t be sorry about Dwayne. I’m much better off without him.” She rolls her eyes. “How about you? Any lucky man in your life?”
“Only Ben and Jerry and neither of them wants to settledown,” I joke. “Listen, I’m in a meeting, but I’d love to get together some night while I’m in town.”
“How long are you here?” she asks. “I’ve been busy getting the social media set up for the new Ice Breakers team and I’m crazy busy.”
“I’ll be here for a week,” I tell her. “But I’m right next door so just stop by some night for a glass of wine or something.”
“I’ll try to do that,” she says. “I’m really glad to run into you, Ashlyn. Every time I look out of the kitchen window and into the backyard, I remember all the fun sleepovers we used to have out there.”
“Our childhoods were charmed.” I give her a quick hug and go back to Marcy who’s looking at her phone.
As soon as I sit down, she tells me, “I did a little Google search. It turns out that in the state of Washington there’s no statute of limitations for claiming an inheritance. If Alexander MacDonald’s heir is for real, he rightly owns the land that belonged to his ancestor.”
My jaw unhinges for a moment and hangs open before I manage to say, “Marcy, that’s half the town.”
She nods her head slowly. “I know it, but I’m going to investigate whether there might not be laws governing the preservation of the town from a fiscal angle. Barring that, the only thing I can think of is trying to come up with a respectable sum of money so the town can offer to buy the land from him.”
“How much does an acre of land cost around here?” I ask.
She shrugs. “It depends where the land is located. If it’s in town, it’ll be worth more because it can be used for businesses. If it’s remote, then less.” She thinks for a beat before saying, “I’d guess on average it’s around five thousand dollars an acre.”
My gasp is audible. “Alexander MacDonald left five hundred acres. That would be two point five million dollars! How in the world would we ever be able to raise that much?”
“Even if wecouldraise it,” she says, “He’d be under no obligation to accept it.”
“But if we make a big enough offer,” I tell her, “then he could invest in a town where he could make more money than he could ever make in Maple Falls.”
