“Shut up!” Freddie clutched his head. “Oh my God! Kit Kat? The Lady of Hemlock Estate! Come on!”
“But obviously that was just rumor, right?” I said, trying to control my own reaction. “Because Kit Kat did not inherit Hemlock Estate when Mr. Ramsbottom died.”
“Well,” Mr. Carver said, frowning a little, “that’s where things get a little bit sketchy.”
“That’s where things get a little bit sketchy!” Freddie shouted, half getting up out of his chair before dropping back down. “That’s where—you’re blowing my mind today, Mr. Carver. Like seriously, mind blown.” Freddie made an explosion gesture with his fingers.
I grabbed Freddie’s arm to quiet him down, maybe a little too tightly by the ow sound he made. “What do you mean, Mr. Carver?”
“The lawyer’s secretary claimed that Mr. Ramsbottom sent her boss a letter about changing his will, and, well, this next part, it’s almost too ridiculous to even say,” he said.
“Please say it,” Freddie moaned.
“First, I need to explain—and this part is absolutely true—Mr. Ramsbottom wanted to be buried on the property of Hemlock Estate.” He straightened up in his wheelchair. “But the town had an issue with that. They didn’t want everyone to think they could start burying their dead on their own properties. So they denied the application.”
“Okay,” I said. “I don’t see what this—”
“You will,” Mr. Carver said with enough warning that Freddie was practically squirming in his seat. “So Olivia decided the next best thing was to fill the coffin she had picked out with memorabilia of her father and bury it on the estate at the clearing on that peak overlooking the water.”
“I know the one,” I said, feeling my stomach roll as Peter Clarke’s body flashed through my mind.
He nodded. “I’m told she put up a little plaque and a bench,” he continued. I couldn’t remember seeing the plaque, but then again it had probably been under the body. “But none of that matters. The important part is that the lawyer’s secretary claimed that her boss took that letter to the memorial.”
“No,” Freddie gasped.
“Yes,” Mr. Carver replied. “And, well, a few people say that, after the service was over, the lawyer and Olivia had a conversation up on that peak.” Mr. Carver stopped to take a breath. “That she was pretty upset. Crying. Some say they embraced.”
Freddie and I both leaned forward. “And then?”
Mr. Carver leaned in too. “He dropped the letter into the coffin.”
“No!”
“Closed it up. Then tossed the first shovel of dirt himself.”