“Mine. I get it. What else?”
Paulette fingered a notepad on her desk. “Remember I said I knew Franklin’s attorney? Well, he finally called me back this morning. Apparently, the only deed on record is the one I found listing Franklin and Loretta as the owners. And the only will he has in his possession dates back to early in their marriage when Franklin left his entire estate to his wife.”
“But that can’t be right. According to Lauren Sanders, one or the other of them would’ve gotten the property in the divorce.”
Paulette gave her that pained look again.
Another reality sunk into Zoe’s brain. “Oh, crap. Do you mean that Loretta’s had ownership of the funeral home all along?”
Paulette shifted in her chair. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“And she allowed Franklin to run things even after the divorce?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what exactly? Lauren told me no court would sign off on the final divorce decree until all the property had been divided up. Either Franklin owned it or Loretta did.”
“There’s one other option.”
Zoe was sick of this guessing game. “Franklin left everything to his ex-wife in his will?”
Paulette shook her head.
“Then what?” Zoe clenched her fists. “Just tell me already.”
Paulette lowered her eyes. “Their divorce was never finalized.”
Zoe’s jaw went slack. Words and thoughts collided inside her head without making it to her tongue.
“Yeah,” Paulette said. “That was my reaction too.”
“How…can that…be?” Zoe finally managed to ask.
Paulette raised both hands in a silent I have no idea.
“What did the lawyer say?”
The secretary placed her open palms down on the desk. “It seems they started divorce proceedings way back when and couldn’t agree how to divide everything. Franklin’s lawyer remembers the last time he saw Loretta and her divorce attorney was in an arbitration meeting. She got pissed and stormed out. He expected to hear back from them to reschedule and get the proceedings rolling again, but days turned into weeks and months, and nothing else ever happened. Franklin never brought it up. And we all assumed they’d gotten the divorce and moved on. Instead…” Paulette shrugged. “…they moved on without the divorce.”
Zoe sank into her chair, still trying to piece together Paulette’s story. “Loretta really does get the funeral home—half of it, at least—as the surviving spouse.”
“He left everything to her, including his half of the property, in his old will.”
As bad a taste as the news left in Zoe’s mouth, one thing didn’t add up. “Then why is she over there tearing the place apart?”
Paulette’s lips thinned, pressing into an angry frown. “Franklin’s lawyer told me something else,” the secretary said. “A few months ago when Franklin’s health started going downhill—”
Zoe interrupted. “He made another will.”
“Yes. How’d you know?”
“I didn’t. But it makes sense.” Zoe met Paulette’s gaze. “You just said the lawyer didn’t have an updated will.”
“No. That’s just it. Like the divorce, Franklin had it drawn up but never filed it. Against his lawyer’s wishes, he took all the copies home to review and said he’d bring them back.”
“But he never did,” Zoe said.
“No, he didn’t.”
“Which means,” Zoe said, musing out loud, “those copies are probably somewhere in Franklin’s funeral home.”
“I didn’t find any. And I looked. Believe me.”
“He probably left his estate to someone other than his long-absent wife.” Zoe noticed tears brimming in Paulette’s eyes. “You. He was going to leave everything to you.”
Paulette looked away. “Not everything, but his lawyer hinted at a substantial inheritance.” She brought her gaze back to Zoe. “I don’t want it. I mean, I’m touched, but I really can’t see myself owning the business.”
“You’d be great at it. You’ve been practically running the funeral home for years in addition to helping with the coroner’s office.”
“But she would still own the other half.”
“I bet she’d be more than happy to let you buy her out.”
“She’d probably insist on triple what it’s worth.” Paulette huffed. “I do hate the idea of Loretta taking over and ruining Franklin’s good name though.”
Paulette had a good point. The Marshall family had run the business with compassion and dignity for as long as Zoe could remember. Two traits she doubted Loretta possessed in even small quantities. If she inherited it all, she’d make as much money from the bereaved as she could, run the business into the ground, and sell it. Marshall Funeral Home was nothing but a cash cow to her. No wonder she’d fired Paulette and torn up the office. If anyone else found the new will, Loretta would be out of a considerable inheritance.
The new phone on Paulette’s desk rang, jarring Zoe out of her ruminations. The secretary swiped a hand across her face before answering.
Zoe closed her eyes. Please, not Loretta again. Or another fatality. How did Franklin ever get anything else done?
“I’ll let her know,” Paulette said and hung up. “That was Gloria at the crime lab. She said to tell you Franklin’s toxicology results are ready.”
Pete had no luck identifying John Doe. The face in the photo didn’t match any of the missing persons from the time of or even several years prior to his death. A wasted morning on what Abby and Zoe had already deemed a wild goose chase.
Still, the colorless face staring back at Pete from the picture had begun to haunt him. Who are you?
Pete huffed a laugh, realizing the words rattling inside his head matched Zoe’s old ringtone for Franklin Marshall. Dammit. Now he’d never get that song out of his mind. Pete eyed his own phone, scooped it up, and keyed in Baronick’s number.
“What’s up?” The detective sounded exhausted.
“How’s your sister?”
“Better. Awake and bitching about green Jell-O. She made Seth go out and bring her a breakfast burrito from the Mexican place on top of the hill.”
Pete smiled at the thought of Seth happily doing Abby’s bidding again. Nearly losing her—permanently—was what Seth needed to realize what he really had. “When are they going to release her?”
“That’s what she wants to know, but the doctor wants to run more tests.
