Page 10 of When You Got a Good Thing (Misfit Inn 1)

So home would remain home. That was good.

“What about the lien?” Maggie asked.

“Lien?” Kennedy asked.

“A few years ago, the house needed some significant repairs. Mom took out a sizable loan against the property to do it. At that time, there was no reason to think she wouldn’t be around to see that it was fully paid off before we inherited.”

“Wouldn’t the trust cover that?” Athena asked.

“She didn’t want to pull that much out at that time.” Maggie shrugged. “It was her decision. I didn’t question it.”

“Officially, the estate will go into probate until any debts are settled,” Robert explained. “Depending on how complicated things are, that can take anywhere from a few months to years.”

“Does that mean the house just sits until things are settled?” Pru asked, aghast.

“There’s no reason you can’t continue to use the house, if that’s what you want. Another option would be to sell the property. That would satisfy the debt outright.”

“No.” They all but shouted it in unison.

Robert smiled. “Glad to hear it. As executor, I’ll obtain a current copy of all the loan paperwork, find out the outstanding balance, and the like. And I’ll follow up on everything else to do with Joan’s estate—her retirement accounts, life insurance, the trust, and other assets, etc.—to see that things are settled as easily as possible and with as little fuss for you as necessary. And, of course, I’ll keep you apprised every step of the way.”

“So, if we want to keep the property, we have to see that the lien is paid, correct?” Maggie asked.

“At the end of it all, yes.”

“Okay. Then we need to make a plan that enables us to do that, and to manage upkeep on the place, as well as property taxes, etc.”

Kennedy had no idea how they’d do such a thing, especially as they weren’t all actually staying in Eden’s Ridge. She couldn’t see Maggie leaving LA or Athena walking away from her Michelin-starred restaurant in Chicago. And even if she herself stayed, what help could she really be? She didn’t have Maggie’s business mind or Pru’s deep connection to the community or even Athena’s drive. All she had to offer was a strong back and a willingness to pitch in however she could. She just hoped it would be enough.

“With the probate, you have time to sort it out,” Robert assured them.

Well, thank God for that. “What about Ari?” Kennedy asked. “Are there any provisions for her in the will?”

With a look of regret, Robert shook his head. “I know she intended to add her once the adoption was finalized, but it didn’t get that far. I’m afraid her fate is in the hands of the state.”

“We’ll add it to the agenda for the family meeting,” Maggie said. She gathered her coat. “We appreciate everything Robert. If you’ll forward me copies of all the financials to go over as you get them, I’d be much obliged.”

“Happy to.”

He passed on copies of the list so they could begin locating and distributing assorted mementos to their respective recipien

ts. And then they were out of the office, back into the chilly March sunshine.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Athena said.

Mouth set in a grim line, Maggie just shook her head. “It’s only just beginning.”

~*~

“I heard down at the Snort and Curl she still has a voice like an angel.” The voice of Esther Vaughn, administrative assistant and dispatch for the Stone County Sheriff’s Office—definitely not an angel—echoed through the air duct to where Xander was just shutting the back door of the building.

At the sound of it, the nagging headache throbbing behind his eyes ratcheted up a notch. If the beauty shop was already talking about Kennedy’s return, it was only a matter of time before he started getting harassed about it. He wasn’t in the mood. His sleep had been interrupted to take a call about a prowler skulking around Elvira’s Tavern at two in the morning. The prowler had turned out to be a bear digging through the dumpster out back. By the time Xander had made it home again, he couldn’t go back to sleep.

“A damned shame about her mama.” This from Jarvis Riley, their jail administrator. He’d been a few years ahead of Xander in school.

“Wait, now. Who is this woman?” Chief Investigator Leanne Hammond. The new girl.

Essie sighed in that way Xander had seen her do over the romance novels she kept in her desk for lulls. He knew where this was going, so he quickened his pace and strode into what constituted the bullpen, glaring at the cluster of his coworkers. “She’s talking about my high school girlfriend. Because, in case you haven’t figured it out in the last six months, not enough happens around here for people to talk about more current events.”

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