Read Online Greed in Paradise (Paradise Series) by Deborah Brown - Free Book Online Page A

and we both had to squeeze by her as she blocked most of the opening, having packed a few pounds on her middle-aged frame.
    “Follow me and try not to interrupt when you go into Mr. Davis’s office,” she snarled.
    Besides Tucker, seven people were crammed into his office. His desk took up three-quarters of the space, which left a tiny, uncomfortable area for the rest of us. Fab spotted Tolbert and slid into the chair next to him. Feeling claustrophobic, I stood by the window, leaning against the low sill. I recognized Violet Ivers and if I hadn’t seen a picture, I’d have guessed her to be Gus’s daughter by her big, howling sobs. Three other men whom I didn’t recognize filled the chairs. Tucker acknowledged me with his hard, cold brown eyes.
    Why in the world did the old people in Tarpon Cove choose a weasel like Tucker to draw up their wills when he built his practice on criminal law by getting guilty defendants off? His court record was near perfect, he rarely lost a case. Juries bonded with him despite the fact that his clients were low-life scum. The joke around town was that if you had Tucker for a criminal lawyer, you did it and have the money for his exorbitant fees.
    I leaned across to the candy bowl sitting on Tucker’s desk and helped myself to another handful, knowing it would irritate him. I threw it in my purse, joining the other candy to be eaten on the way home. He didn’t say a word, but glared and moved the bowl to the cabinet behind his desk. Aging had been unkind to him, his brown hair turning gray in odd clumps and turning his complexion sallow. One thing he had in common with his assistant, Ann, they both looked like they had something permanently stuck in an unpleasant place.
    Tucker pulled a thick file of paperwork out of a side drawer and announced to everyone that as executor he’d be handling the distribution of the Ivers estate according to the deceased’s wishes. He cleared his throat and started reading, boring everyone to tears with legalese. I wanted to yell, “Hurry up, already!”
    Violet had calmed somewhat and squirmed around in her chair, hiccupping. One would guess her to be a middle-aged woman, but she was dressed like a six-year-old in a full dress that tied in a bow behind her back, completing the look with Mary Jane shoes and loose blonde curls.
    “I have an envelope here for each one of you from Gus,” Tucker said, acknowledging us individually as he held them up flopping them back and forth. “But I’ll be keeping these in my control until the estate is finalized.” He tossed them onto the corner of his desk.
    “Tolbert, Ivers left you that parcel of land that joins your properties at the back and a check for that so-called church of yours.” Tucker eyed him in a disrespectful way.
    Fab glared at Tucker; I thought she’d pistol whip him. He noticed and glared back at her. “You got a problem with me, girlie, you can leave, and I’ll mail you a copy of the will.”
    I spoke up. “Fab’s staying. She’s my ride home.” I gave Tucker my best I-dare-you- face, letting him know I’d make a scene in his office and not care who witnessed.
    “Charlie, Bob, and John, Ivers left you sizeable bequests.” Tucker stopped to take a drink of water. He passed each man a piece of paper, presumably with an amount written down as they all smiled and nodded, pleased with what they saw.
    John, apparently an Ivers, made me wonder where he fit in the family gene pool. The familial connection surprised me since neither he nor Violet looked at the other. Interesting, too, that Tucker knew everyone in the room; they must be locals after all.
    Ann walked in with a tray of cold drinks, serving the others, and ignoring Fab and I.
    Fab spoke up. “Annie, I’ll take a bottle of water. Madison wants one, too.”
    I tried not to laugh and shook my head in agreement.
    “I’m not sure why, Miss Merceau,” Tucker said, glancing her way, “but Gus left you his antique gun