Page 35 of Drawing Home
Direct. She respected that. Small talk was overrated. “Well, Jack, unfortunately, I came out here under rather unhappy circumstances. Henry Wyatt was a dear friend of mine.”
Jack nodded. “He was a treasure in this town. A real shame to see him go.”
He was too good for this town,Bea thought. But she shook that away. She needed to stay focused.
“Henry and I go back fifty years. We built his entire career together. We were quite inseparable for a time.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Well, thank you. Now, I’m telling you this because for the past year or two, Henry was a bit reclusive. And I’m afraid one of your employees preyed on his loneliness for her own gain.”
Jack seemed to mull over Bea’s accusation as the waitress set pastries and a bowl of fruit on the table.
“Are you referring to Emma Mapson?” he said.
She wasn’t surprised to hear him identify her. Of course he would know about the house. Everyone knew about the house. The thing he did not know was how out of character this was for Henry and how all personal history and logic dictated that Bea should be the beneficiary of his estate. “Yes. Emma Mapson. She claims Henry left his estate to her daughter.”
“Well, it’s more than a claim. I understand there’s a will.”
Bea swallowed her frustration and took a deep breath. “Jack, you have to understand that Henry did not even like children. He never married. He was devoted to his art. Frankly, the closest thing he had to a wife in his entire life was myself, and his careerwasour child. As difficult as it was to think of it, we discussed what would happen to his work after his death. He had the idea of establishing a museum. Nothing was formalized, but at our age these conversations are more than idle chitchat. So you can imagine my surprise to hear that, out of the blue, he left everything to the daughter of one of your hotel employees. By her own admission, this woman barely knew Henry.”
“A surprising turn of events.”
It was a relief to hear him affirming her own feelings about the matter. Jack Blake had tremendous standing in the community. “It’s not just surprising, Jack. It’s suspicious. Frankly, I’m certain it’s borderline criminal.”
Jack nodded. “And you’re proposing I do what?”
“Well, for starters, I’m sure you don’t want grifters running your hotel. I think for your own good you should let her go.”
“I see,” Jack said. He poured himself more coffee. Across the room, the waitstaff began setting up the breakfast buffet. “The thing is, Emma might not have known Henry very well, butIknowEmma. I’ve known Emma Mapson since she was this high. Her father was an employee of mine. A good man.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with any of this.”
“Let’s put it this way, Bea—if you’re implying that Emma Mapson is some sort of scam artist or thief, it’s best if you find yourself another place to stay.”
Emma waited impatiently in the small corridor outside Dr. Wang’s office, yawning and trying not to worry about getting to work. She sipped her takeout coffee and mentally kicked herself for staying out so late.
What had she been thinking last night? The drinks at Murf’s, the boat ride out to Henry Wyatt’s house. She’d stood in the dining room staring out at the shimmering pool, going over and over in her mind everything that had happened since the minute that lawyer showed up on her doorstep.
Henry Wyatt didn’t have any living family. He’d never married, so there wasn’t even an ex-wife to worry about. Okay, so this Bea Winstead had known the guy for fifty years, but Henry Wyatt had chosen not to leave his house and his art to her. And going by the internet search Emma had done, it wasn’t like the old bird was hurting for cash. ANew York Timesarticle featured photos of her palatial Park Avenue apartment. So what did she care about the Sag Harbor house? That was the thing about the wealthy—they never had enough. She saw it all the time with the summer people, their unbelievable sense of entitlement.
When she finally got home, she was so adrenalized she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned thinking about the house, wondering if Bea was going to get Jack to fire her over it.
Dr. Wang poked her head out of the office. “Emma, let’s speak for a minute,” she said, stepping out and closing the door behind her.
“Everything okay?”
“I’m afraid Penny is backsliding a bit. I want to bring up, again, the option of putting her on an SSRI. They can be very effective in getting baseline OCD and anxiety under control, and that would give her the breathing room to employ the cognitive techniques we’re practicing here.”
Emma had been afraid she’d say that. “I’d rather give this more time. Unless Penny really feels she can’t get better without medication.”
“I’ll discuss it with her. I just wanted to make sure you’re open to the idea.”
Emma’s experience with her mother’s prescription-pill addiction made her especially wary of drug treatment. It was irrational, she knew; the type of medication Dr. Wang was proposing was nothing like the kind that had led to her mother’s downward spiral. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to agree to it. At least, not yet. “Penny has suffered a loss and I think that set her back. But I don’t want that to change our whole game plan.”
“Sometimes these things are beyond our control.”
It seemed that went for just about everything lately.
