“How long does she plan on being away?”
“Until the fall semester starts.”
“I see.” Typical, he thought. His mother was going to be gone for nine months or so, but she couldn’t bring herself to call and tell him herself. She had to get Charlotte to do it for her.
“I’m sorry, Dillon,” Charlotte said softly. He didn’t have to ask for what. Both of his siblings had always been aware of their mother’s animosity toward him.
“Yeah, well, par for the course. Tell her I hope she enjoys her visit.”
“Uh…actually, there is one other thing.”
“Shoot.”
“She wants to know if you’ll keep an eye on her house while she’s away, maybe stop by every few days and water her plants and make sure everything’s all right?”
Dillon gave a snort of mirthless laughter. “Sure. Why not.”
“Oh, good. She’ll be relieved. She said to tell you she’d leave the key under the mat.”
She’d have to, Dillon thought. She refused to give him a key of his own to her elegant little town house.
“So, when are you leaving?” he asked.
“Actually…we’re heading for the airport in a few minutes. We’re booked on an early afternoon flight to Sarasota.”
Silence stretched out as Dillon absorbed that. He supposed he should consider himself lucky that she’d bothered to let him know at all. If she hadn’t needed him to look after her precious plants, she probably wouldn’t have. “I see. Well, have a good flight.”
When he turned from hanging up the receiver, Emily held her coffee cup cradled between her palms and gazed out the window at nothing.
“Looks like you got a reprieve,” he said, taking his seat again. “Mother is going home with Charlotte and Roger. They’re flying out this afternoon.”
Emily blinked and looked at him. “Really? Just like that? Without even saying goodbye?”
“Apparently.” He polished off his coffee and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Can you be ready to leave by ten-thirty?”
“Leave?”
“You have an eleven o’clock appointment to meet with your attorney. I’ll drive you.”
Emily groaned. “Do I have to? I know what the will says. Everything comes to me.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. Life goes on, and the first of the month is coming up.”
“So?”
“So you’ll have to pay bills—car payments, mortgage payment, utilities, that sort of thing. Then there’s the funeral costs. Your attorney will have to file the will with the Probate Court before all the assets can be released to you.”
“I suppose you’re right. Oh, Lord, I have no idea where to start. Keith always handled those things.”
Dillon frowned. “Are you telling me that you have no knowledge of your personal finances? How much you have? What you owe? What your investments are? Dammit, Emily, that’s crazy.”
“You don’t have to act as though I’m a twittery fluffbrain. I did offer to take on the job after we married, but Keith insisted on turning everything over to Bob Larson. He’s our tax attorney and business manager and an old friend of Keith’s.”
“Yeah, I know who Bob Larson is. He and Keith went through public school and college together.”
Emily shot Dillon a curious look. He’d made the statement matter-of-factly, but something in his voice told her that Bob Larson wasn’t one of his favorite people.
“That’s right. Anyway, Keith said he didn’t want me to be burdened with boring financial matters and he didn’t have the time to handle them himself.”
Actually, the arrangement had bothered Emily a great deal when she and Keith had first married. By then, at age twenty-two, she had been on her own for years and had been accustomed to paying bills and handling her own finances. That discussion had sparked one of the few serious arguments that she and Keith had ever had.
“Still, Keith should have kept you up to date on your financial picture,” Dillon insisted.
“I know,” she said wearily. “I tried to convince him of that, but whenever I brought the matter up it always seemed to anger him, as though he thought I didn’t trust him.”
“Well, you’re going to have to jump in with both feet now. Whether you take over your finances or you continue to retain Larson, you’ll need to familiarize yourself with your fiscal situation.
“Within a week or so you’ll have to start dealing with whatever obligations you have. You can probably access your joint accounts, but if there are any others solely in Keith’s name, neither you nor Larson can access those until the will has cleared probate.”
Propping her elbows on the table, Emily dropped her head in her hands and groaned again. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
“You don’t have a choice. Look, if it’ll help, I’ll sit in on the meetings with you. But this has to be handled.”
Emily raised her head and found herself looking into her brother-in-law’s intense blue eyes. She had never expected the time would come when she would be grateful for Dillon’s company. “You’d do that?”
“Sure. That’s what I’m here for.”
Emily stared at the attorney in disbelief. “What do you mean, there’s nothing left? There has to be. My husband was a physician with a highly successful practice.”
Bob Larson shifted in his chair, and looked at her pityingly. “I’m sorry, Emily.”
“But…we had investments—stocks, bonds, real estate, that sort of thing.”
“All gone.” Bob’s mouth compressed into a grim line. “I did advise Keith not to sell off his assets. Actually, I pleaded with him, but he wouldn’t listen. Over the past four years, one by one, he liquidated almost everything.”
“There was a sizeable life insurance policy. What about that?”
“He cashed it in about a year ago.”
“Our savings?”
“That, too. I’m afraid all you have is whatever is in your checking account.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” Emily sagged against the chair back, dazed. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a bad dream. Surely she would wake up soon.
But it was real. Horribly real. Her husband had not only been unfaithful, he had deceived her in other ways as well. And apparently he’d left her penniless.
“Wait a minute,” Dillon said, leaning forward in his chair beside Emily. “How could Keith sell his stocks and other investments without Emily’s knowledge? Wasn’t she co-owner? If so, her signature would have been required, too.”
“Yes, of course. And I assure you, the documents were properly signed and executed.”
Dillon looked at Emily. “Did you ever sign anything for Keith without knowing what the document was?”
Emily shook her head slowly, still too stunned to speak.
“You must be mistaken, Emily,” Bob insisted. “Keith couldn’t have sold those assets without your signature.”
“Not unless he signed her name to them himself,” Dillon