Gabe shook his head. “Ma had four sisters and five brothers and most of them had children. Pop always said that was enough family for anyone. When I asked Pop about his family he said there was only his brother, Jacob, but I didn’t even meet him until after Drew was born. He was single and teased Pop about having two sons, one for Pop and one for him,” Gabe reminisced affectionately. Uncle Jake had been a favorite in the family.
He couldn’t sit still any longer. “Excuse me, Mr. Moultrie. Would you care for something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice, water?”
“Water’s fine.”
Gabe took bottled water from the refrigerator, poured some over a glass of ice for Moultrie and grabbed two bottles for him and Drew. He felt like he was in Oz and had to anchor himself with something familiar before he heard the rest of this bizarre story.
“Let me tell you how I came to be involved with this matter,” Moultrie said after he’d sipped some water. “Then we’ll get to the details of the will. I was born and raised in Swinton, South Carolina. Went to university in Columbia and to law school in Philadelphia. Eventually I established my law practice in Charlotte, North Carolina. Once when I happened to be home, I had a surprise call from Ezekiel Bell asking me to do some business for him, which I did. Six months later he told me that had been a test to see if I’d kept his confidence.”
“He didn’t trust you?” Gabe asked.
That brought a smile from Moultrie. “As you get to know more about your great-grandfather, you’ll see he had a subtle mind. Apparently he’d listened to see if there was any whisper about the transaction in the community. From then on I carried out all his business. He said he didn’t want a local person and that he felt fortunate to find a person from Swinton who worked elsewhere.”
Gabe had been doing some estimates in his head “He must have been very old.”
“One hundred years old when he died several weeks ago.”
“A hundred!” Drew whistled silently. “I’ve never known anyone that old.”
“South Carolina has a lot of centenarians, Drew, as you’ll see,” Moultrie said.
“Any question about the soundness of his mind?” There was nothing casual about Gabe’s question.
“None at all. In his late years, he wasn’t as physically active as he’d been but he never lost his mental faculties, I can assure you. In any case, the bulk of the will had been written when he was in his seventies. There were only a few items to add later, primarily about the identity of the heir after I had traced you down at his request.” He paused and turned his benign glance on Gabe and Drew. “Any more questions? No?”
He took several papers from his briefcase. Drew’s eyes followed his every movement.
“As these documents go, Mr. Bell’s will is quite brief. He insisted on only the specifics and omitting as much legalese as possible.”
Gabe was motionless as Moultrie read the will, glancing up every now and then.
“‘I, Ezekiel Bell Jr. of the city of Swinton, the state of South Carolina, do hereby make, publish and declare the following as and for my last will and testament, hereby revoking all wills and codicils made by me at any time, and directing that my executor, or substitute executor, serve without bond.
“‘First, I nominate, and appoint my attorney, Jasper Lee Moultrie, as executor of this, my last will and testament, and direct that he pay my funeral expenses and just debts as soon after my decease as possible.
“‘Second, I give and bequeath to my great-grandson, Gabriel Riley Bell of New York City, New York, for the period of three full months as soon after my death as possible, my fifteen acres of land, which include my home at 305 North Grayson Road outside of Swinton, South Carolina.
“‘Third, Gabriel Riley Bell is to reside in the furnished house at 305 North Grayson Road and to examine its contents closely.
“‘Fourth, Gabriel Riley Bell is to explore, discover and carry out the treasured destiny this property has held for six generations.
“‘Fifth, Gabriel Riley Bell may not rent, lease or sell any portion of this particular property.
“‘Sixth, Jasper Lee Moultrie, executor, will provide living expenses of two thousand dollars a month for the three months.
“‘Seventh, upon the satisfactory completion by Gabriel Riley Bell of Article Four, the executor will so declare and will then deliver to Gabriel Riley Bell the entire estate consisting of the aforesaid fifteen acres of land in Swinton, South Carolina, the house and contents that are on the property, and any other parcels of land belonging to the estate at the time of my death.
“‘Eighth, I give and bequeath to Gabriel Riley Bell the sum of one hundred thousand dollars with one half to be held in trust for his brother, Drew Booker Bell, until his twenty-fifth birthday.
“‘In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal on this eighth day of June 2005.
“‘Signed and declared by the said Ezekiel Bell Jr., and for his last will and testament in the presence of us, who at his request, in his presence, and in the presence of each other, have hereunto subscribed our names as witnesses.
“‘Marshall G. Hamilton of Swinton, South Carolina, Jane Ann Hamilton of Swinton, South Carolina, Jasper Lee Moultrie of Charlotte, North Carolina.’”
Moultrie silently handed Gabe a copy of what he’d read. As he reached for it and settled back on the couch, Gabe felt his breath return. He’d been oxygen starved. Drew scooted next to him so he could read the will that talked about fifty thousand dollars for him. He had to see the words to believe it.
“So I’m to go to Swinton and live in this house on the fifteen-acre property for three months during which time you’ll give me living expenses of two thousand a month?” Gabe asked, his eyes still on the document.
“That is correct.”
“That’s clear. What I don’t get is the fourth article. As a result, I assume, of examining the contents of the house, I’m supposed to discover and carry out a treasured destiny that’s been waiting or hidden for six generations?”
His voice rose in disbelief as he repeated the words Ezekiel had written. “What does that mean?” His gaze fixed itself on Moultrie but his expression said that whatever Moultrie answered it would be subject to disbelief.
“Sounds like it means buried treasure.” Drew, excited at the prospect of finding a cache of jewels, clutched Gabe’s arm.
“I can’t tell you, Mr. Bell,” Moultrie said sympathetically. “I do know that most of what you’ll need is in the house so as soon as you get there…it’d be wise to thoroughly search each room. Drew can help you.”
“But what are we to look for? A map, a key, a box, or what?”
“Mr. Bell said you’ll know it when you see it.”
There was another provision stipulated in the will that was perplexing to Gabe. “Why the sixth generation? That’s a long time to wait. Supposing there hadn’t been a grandson with the name Bell in the sixth generation?”
“When I asked the same question, Mr. Bell said the oldest African had foretold it.”
Other questions that Gabe or Drew brought up usually came back in one way or another to the same vague statement. Gabe began to think Moultrie knew as little about this “treasured destiny” as he did. Great-Grandfather had trusted even his attorney just so far with ancient secrets.
There were only three issues to be decided about the will as far as Gabe was concerned. If he took the whole matter seriously, as he decided to do after Moultrie left.
The first involved his job with the state in the accounting department. He’d gone there right out