Part 12
“How do you know?”
“Your father called my attorney and accused us of digging up his wife’s grave.”
Lily closed her eyes briefly. “Of course he did.”
“He remains vivid.”
“That’s one word.”
Eleanor looked toward the cabinet. “Anna believed the house belonged to everyone capable of appreciating it. Graham believed appreciation did not pay the heating bills. Both were correct. That made them unbearable.”
“You wanted the rooms sold.”
“I wanted liabilities reduced.”
“You planned to remove the library shelves.”
“The shelves were appraised at four million dollars.”
“They’re part of the structure.”
“Structures can be altered.”
“Destroyed.”
“Repurposed.”
Lily took one step into the room. “You had buyers before Graham died.”
“Yes.”
“Did he know?”
“He knew I was exploring options.”
“Did he know which options?”
Eleanor’s pause answered.
Lily called Claire.
Eleanor watched her. “Tell her I am stealing a dress.”
Claire answered on the fourth ring, her voice thick with sleep until Lily explained.
“Do not confront her,” Claire said immediately. “Go outside and call the police.”
Eleanor heard. “Predictable.”
Lily stayed where she was. “Why did you bring the brooch to lunch?”
Eleanor’s eyes shifted to the phone. “You should follow your attorney’s advice.”
“Why?”
“Because I am dangerous, apparently.”
“You put spoons in a hidden handbag.”
“I put nothing in any handbag.”
“Adrian saw them.”
“Adrian wants housing.”
“He gave up his housing.”
“And obtained yours.”
Lily’s anger sharpened. “Answer me.”
Claire’s voice came through the phone. “Lily, leave the room.”
Eleanor stood.
She slipped her gloves beneath one arm and looked at the dark fireplace.
“The brooch belonged to Marianne’s mother,” she said. “Marianne wore it in her wedding portrait. Graham gave it to me ten years after she died.”
“Did he?”
“He placed it around my neck himself.”
“Brooches don’t go around necks.”
“It was pinned to a ribbon.”
The small correction carried an intimacy Lily had not expected.
Eleanor continued. “He said objects should not be punished for surviving their owners.”
Lily lowered the phone slightly.
“Did he give you a letter?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then legally it may belong to the house.”
“I am aware.”
“Was that why you used it?”
Eleanor’s mouth tightened. “I wanted the trustees to understand what kind of person Graham had chosen.”
“So you made one.”
“I created an opportunity.”
“You created evidence.”
“I created a question.”
“You tried to destroy my career.”
Eleanor looked directly at her. “You accepted a house from another woman’s husband.”
“He was dying.”
“That does not improve it.”
“I didn’t ask him.”
“You stayed.”
The words struck somewhere Lily had been avoiding.
She had stayed in Graham’s hospital room after visiting hours. She had brought him restoration photographs he did not need to see. She had listened while he complained about nurses, trustees, and pudding. She had accepted the access, the private jokes, the sense that her opinion mattered in rooms where it previously had not.
Being needed and being loved.
Her mother’s warning returned with the sterile smell of the hospital.
Eleanor saw the hesitation. “There it is.”
“What?”
“The part you prefer not to examine.”
Lily raised the phone again. “Claire, I’m going outside.”
“Good.”
Eleanor moved toward the door.
Lily stepped aside, keeping distance between them.
At the threshold, Eleanor stopped. “I did not come for clothing.”
“I know.”
“I came to see whether the house had already changed.”
“Has it?”
Eleanor looked into the hall. A drop cloth covered the table beneath a ceiling leak. Lily’s discount handbag hung from the newel post. Adrian’s work boots stood by the service entrance because he had forgotten them before his shift.
“Yes,” Eleanor said.
Her voice held neither approval nor disgust. Only injury.
She walked out through the front door before the police arrived.
Claire came to Bellweather the next morning with coffee and fury.
“You remained alone in a room with a litigant who had entered in violation of a court agreement.”
“She left.”
“That is not a defense.”
“I called you.”
“And ignored me.”
“I was asking questions.”
“You are not an investigator.”
“I found out she knew about my mother.”
“We already knew that was possible.”
“I found out Graham gave her the brooch.”
“He may have.”
“She described it.”
Claire set the coffee on the kitchen table hard enough to spill through the lid. “People can describe jewelry they do not own.”
“She said he pinned it to a ribbon.”
“That may be true. It does not establish a completed gift.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“Yes. I have been awake since four.”
Lily handed her a towel.
Claire wiped the coffee. “The police found no forced entry. Eleanor’s old physical key opened the east door. The locksmith will rekey every exterior lock today.”
“Can we afford that?”
“We cannot afford not to.”
“That phrase is becoming expensive.”
“Yes.”
They sat at the kitchen table. Morning light showed every scratch in the wood.
Claire opened her laptop. “Eleanor’s attorneys contacted us at six thirty. They claim she entered by mistake because she believed her scheduled access was last night.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It is also documented in an email her assistant sent at seven this morning.”
“After she left.”
“Yes.”
“Can they do that?”
“They can send an email at seven in the morning.”
“You know what I mean.”
“They can make the argument. We can point to the metadata.”
Lily drank her coffee. It tasted burnt and wonderful.
Claire said, “The hearing is Friday. We need to decide what relief you want.”
“I want the petition denied.”
“Beyond that.”
“I want her kept out.”
“A formal no-entry order?”
“Yes.”
“That will escalate the personal conflict.”
“She entered at night.”
“I agree with seeking it. I am explaining the consequence.”
“What consequence?”
“She will characterize you as evicting a widow from her marital home.”
“She has a penthouse and a house in Palm Beach.”
“Those facts will appear in our response. They will not prevent the phrase.”
May you like
Lily pushed her coffee away.
Claire turned the laptop toward her. A proposed declaration filled the screen.
