twenty-four

Francine had anticipated going straight from the law firm to the food booth, so she felt a little underdressed in a pink Mary Ruth’s Catering t-shirt and jeans when she arrived at the address on the notice. Frost & Associates sounded like a long-established law firm, and it looked like it from the outside. The office was part of group of suites that had been carved out of an old bank building located across the street from the courthouse. Francine opened the glass-paneled door—frosted, she noted wryly—and found herself in a wood-paneled office that radiated decorum and old money. But the smell was of Febreze. With no one in the office at that moment, she peered around the receptionist’s desk and saw an electric scent outlet plugged in behind the desk.

The desk sat between two office doors. Both of them had shiny nameplates on them. One of them said Denise Frost. The other one was a man’s name. She thought he must be the associate who brought her the summons last night.

The door to the one labeled Denise Frost opened, and Merlina walked out. She was not wearing an old Hungarian dress but a black skirt and white blouse. She wore a tailored turquoise blazer over it, and her hair was pulled back behind her head.

“Hello, Francine.”

“You’re Denise Frost?”

“No, my real name is Marla Frost, and I’m Denise’s paralegal. Also her daughter. Mother felt that I should have a day job. Aunt Marcy is a bit more accepting.”

“You’re a paranormal paralegal?”

“If you only knew how many times I’ve heard that joke.”

“Sorry.”

“But as a paralegal, I’ve been working with Mr. Matthew on this. Since I’ve been doing all the work, Mother thought it best that I be the one to meet with you. Besides, she had to be in court today.”

“So that’s how you knew Zed.”

“It is. But I couldn’t say. Client confidentiality and all that.”

Francine felt her mouth opening and closing like a rusty gate as she tried to process all this.

“You must have a million questions,” Merlina told her. “Please have a seat. Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea would be nice.”

“I’ll get it. It’s part of my job, anyway.”

Just a few minutes later they were seated on opposite sides of a round hickory table in a corner of Denise’s office.

“I don’t understand why Zedediah Matthew would leave me anything,” Francine began. “And I’m not sure that he’s dead. I could have sworn I spotted him yesterday at a funeral home. Do you have any insight on that?”

“Sorry, I don’t.”

Francine wondered if Merlina had insight on anything, which made her think of a question she’d been wanting to ask. She almost felt awkward asking it because she wasn’t sure she would believe an answer even if it were a logical one. “Who did you channel at the séance?”

Merlina thought for a moment. “It was a woman. I think. I’m not always sure. Unless the spirits reveal things to me, all I know is what they say.”

“Doesn’t Zed have other heirs? Where are they?” Francine gestured toward two empty chairs at the table as if they should be occupied.

“There are no other heirs. Mr. Matthew was married once, but they had no children. He was very sad about that.”

“Where is his wife?”

Merlina paused as if she were trying to figure out how to word her answer. “Something terrible happened to his wife, and he never remarried.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. What happened to her? And in what way am I related to him?”

“I was under the impression that he had given you some documents that explained that.”

Francine was even more confused. “All he gave me was a diary my grandmother had written about her mother marrying the man who became Doc Wheat.”

“I see.” Merlina smiled at her. It made Francine think that despite protestations to the contrary, Merlina knew more about her past than she did. Merlina steepled her fingers. “From what I know of Mr. Matthew, I’m sure you have to read between the lines to figure out what that means. Aren’t you curious about what he left you in the will?”

“Of course I am.”

Merlina went to a locked cabinet in the opposite corner of the room, unlocked it, and removed an old wooden box. She returned with it, opened it, and presented Francine with two documents. One of them was a detailed will. The second was an irrevocable living trust. The will looked to be older, so Francine considered the trust first. She flipped to the last page. It had been signed two days before. “Perhaps …”

“Basically, he has left you everything that is not money. Mainly that’s his property, which is fairly substantial. He owned three hundred acres of land in Parke County, including some forty acres that he maintained as pristine as it was when he purchased it. That’s according to him.”

“Who did he purchase it from? And what did he do with the money? Did that go to another heir?”

Merlina shook her head. “I told you, there are no other heirs. He donated it to charity. A hospice care organization, if you must know.”

That would have been Francine’s next question, if Merlina hadn’t answered it. “Let me back up a step. How do we know that Zedediah Matthew is dead?”

“We don’t. But it’s not a problem for you legally. May I?” She indicated the papers Francine was holding. Francine dutifully passed them back to her.

Merlina flipped to the next to last page. “This is an irrevocable living trust. He transferred all the property into it. As of yesterday, that trust became yours. Even if you or anyone else cannot prove that he is dead, you own that property.”

“But what if he wants it back?”

She shrugged. “It’s yours. He can’t get it back. You’ll find the will has the same goals in mind. You are heir to the ranch. Have you had a chance to look at the property?”

Francine was overwhelmed by the sheer number of questions in her head. Why hadn’t she asked Jonathan to come here, instead of sending him on a mission? A mission that now she’d have to attend to anyway, as soon as she got out of the office. “No. The only time I was there you were with us. We saw the house and the greenhouse. I know the house burned down. I trust the greenhouse is still standing.”

“I’m pretty confident it still is.”

Merlina said it in the stage voice she’d used at the séance. Francine wondered how much of that was playing a part and how much of it was some kind of supernatural knowledge she didn’t understand. Then she remembered the will had been signed the same day the arsonist struck. “Who was the beneficiary before me?”

“A woman named Belinda Miles Flowers.”

Francine would have to process that. Had Belinda died before the irrevocable trust become effective, or after?

“I was told to tell you to make sure you see the lovely rolling hills in the preserved section. It’s beautiful there.” Merlina handed over the box that had contained the will and the trust.

Francine took it from her. The box was about the size of two shoeboxes set side by side. When she opened it, it smelled of cedar and reminded her of her grandmother’s hope chest. It looked old enough to have been constructed at the same time.

But what got her attention was that there was another box inside it. She lifted it out and set it on the table. Carved into it was the heart icon she’d seen on the beam of the Roseville Bridge and on the cover of the two diaries. It had a tiny lock on it. The lock was strikingly similar to the unlatched lock that was on the two diaries, neither of which had required a key. But when she tried to open the lock on this box, it wouldn’t budge. “What’s this?” she asked.

“I don’t know what’s in it. It’s been in my possession now since I first met Mr. Matthew. He referred to it as the key to his ranch. He said that what was inside would make sense only to the person who could open it. That’s all I know about that, really. I assume that you have the key?”

Francine tilted the box right and left, examined the bottom, and then ran her hand over the lock. She remembered the phrase carved into the bridge under the heart: You are to mine. It made no more sense now than it did then. But she believed if she could figure out one, she would be able to solve the other. “I don’t have the key, and I don’t know where to find it.”

“Pity.” Merlina stood up. “I’m afraid that’s all I know. I need to leave for another appointment. I’m trying to get them all out of the way this morning because Aunt Marcy has me booked for another gig this afternoon, much to Mother’s chagrin.” She smiled, and for a moment she looked more like the Merlina Francine knew, despite the professional dress. “It looks to me like you could break the box open, but if I understand correctly, until you find the key, it may not be worth it. Both boxes and everything in them are yours to take. If you have more questions for me after you’ve had a chance to think this all through, please let me know. I don’t know that I’ll have answers, but you may find some help in just asking them.”

Francine found it an odd phrase—you may find some help in just asking them—but she understood what Merlina meant by it. That was her experience often with Charlotte. Just putting voice to a question often helped shed light on the answer.

She put the second box and the documents back in the first box and carried it out.