And that was where the true challenge of maintaining the Radley estate lay. The Historical Society made the most noise, and even Beth found their desire for the house on the verge of obsession. There were at least three other groups attempting to purchase, recover, or seize property in other locations. A rancher in Oregon kept attempting to acquire a ten-mile section of forest through his lawyer, a bastard of a man who liked to refer to Beth over the phone as “sweetie.” Then there was a patch of land on Hawaii that the natives felt should become theirs once more, since Emily had passed. It wasn’t even usable land, surrounded by miles of forest in the middle of Oahu’s caldera. An island off the coast of Ireland was home to some beautiful castle ruins that a resort wanted to scoop up for themselves, and Beth could hardly blame them. The ocean views from the cliffs were spectacular.
She’d given such care and dedication over the last couple of years to making certain that these assets were rightfully passed on to the proper heir, and somehow she had fucked up and missed a storage unit.
“Here.” Lily set a cup of coffee in front of Beth.
“I still have this one,” Beth said, tapping the lid.
“It’s been cold for over an hour. You deserve something fresh.” Lily winked, scooping up the old cup and disappearing with it. Beth shook her head, rubbing her eyes. No amount of concealer was going to correct the bags beneath them. She took a sip of the coffee that Lily had brought. Cream, no sugar, just the way she liked it. Lily was a mind reader.
The documents in front of her blurred, and she massaged her temples. She vaguely remembered the discovery of the storage unit from last week. Why had it gone unnoticed for so long? Emily had been so thoughtful, and the idea that the storage unit’s fees had gone unpaid when Emily had retained local attorneys for all her other properties seemed highly unlikely.
“Beth?” It was Marco, one of the legal secretaries. “There’s a Sebastien Mueller here to see you.”
“Who?” Beth asked, looking past Marco. A pale blond man with a rather dramatic mustache stood out in the office, leaning on a dark cane. He wore a gray suit with matching loafers.
“He said he’s legal counsel for the Historical Preservation Society. He has some questions for you.”
“Tell him to make an appointment,” she said, but Sebastien Mueller pushed his way past Marco, then planted himself firmly in the seat across from Beth. He crossed one leg over the other, one hand on his cane, the other checking a pocket watch. If Mr. Peanut were a human, she imagined he would look like Sebastien Mueller.
“I understand that you are counsel for the Radley estate?” Sebastien asked, a slight English accent in his voice.
“I don’t take walk-ins,” Beth informed him, crossing her arms. “If you would like to meet with me, you need to make an appointment.”
“I see.” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit. She swore to herself that if he pulled out a monocle, she would smack it out of his hand. Instead, a tin of mints appeared, and he lifted out a couple. “Would you like one?”
“No.” It was a common tactic. If she accepted the mint, she was socially obligated to at least hear him out. Right now, she had other things to deal with.
“I see.” He put the mints back in the tin without taking one for himself. “I will be brief. I believe that there is an issue of some serious legal ramifications. Since you are Mr. Radley’s representative, I formally request that you schedule a meeting between the three of us. There has been some error in how the estate has been handled, and I would prefer to see it resolved as soon as possible.” Sebastien pulled out his pocket watch again. “We could even head over there now, if you like. I would prefer it, actually. I have come a very long way to have this meeting.”
“Absolutely not.” Beth stared daggers at the man, but he ignored her. “First, you need to make an appointment,” she continued. “Then you and I can talk. Afterward, if your case has any merit, I will arrange a meeting with my client and see if he will agree to meet with you.”
Sebastien stared blankly into a corner, pretending that he hadn’t heard her. Beth waited. She had dealt with this before and knew that he was waiting to interrupt her. Determined to outwait him, she resumed working on her computer, typing herself a nonsensical memo.
Five minutes passed. With a slightly disgruntled look on his face, Sebastien stood, pushing himself upward with his cane. “I suppose I will be scheduling an appointment with you on the way out,” he informed her with no lack of disgust in his voice.
“Sounds great,” she said, busy blocking off the next two weeks in her online day planner.
“Farewell.” He moved toward the door, where he collided with Lily, who was walking in with a stack of files.
Lily dropped the papers, putting out a hand to steady Sebastien. “I am so sorry,” she told him, crouching to pick up the files.
“Indeed.” Sebastien got a better grip on his cane, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. Through the window of her office, Beth watched him stop by the front desk to speak with Marco. Sebastien’s pale face reddened when Marco opened up Beth’s schedule, which made her smile.
“What do you have there?” Beth asked, leaving her desk to help Lily.
“Some paperwork from the auction,” Lily informed her. “I think I may have found something, but we will have to go down to the storage place.”
“Really?” Beth looked over the documents. It was an itemized list of what had been in the storage unit. “How did you get this?”
“Flirted with a guy over the phone.” Lily smiled. “Or blackmailed him. Whatever you prefer
