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Authors: Ellen J. Green
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of JAMES
61
“I went to the Caymans. Remember? What’s going on? What
happened with the will?”
I filled her in as fast as I could. “I know it’s crazy, but I’m telling you it’s true.” My hand tightened around my beer glass. “The trust is worth about fifteen million dol ars. Give or take a million.”
“And his mother’s alive? Oh my God.”
“I’ve been just holding all this in. I’m ready to burst.”
“Okay, okay, let’s think this through, Mackenzie. Do you real y
think staying with her is a great idea, given the circumstances?”
There was concern in her voice.
I took a bite of my burger and chewed. “Which circumstances
are you referring to?”
“Nick ran away and didn’t see her for years and said she was
dead. There’s a reason. And he turned down millions of dol ars, probably because of her. Not a couple thousand— mil ions. Is that enough, or should I go on?”
“I’ve met her. She’s a sad old woman. Maybe a little odd, iso-
lated. But this is my chance to learn more about Nick. It’ll be a few days, tops. And you and the lawyer will know where I am. It’ll be fine.” I hesitated. “The minute something happens, I’ll leave. Drive as fast as I can back to Maine.”
She sighed with resignation. “Look. At least keep your cell
phone charged, put 911 on speed dial, and make sure you sleep
with it.”
“Funny.”
“Not funny. Serious. Hey, listen, I’m closing on a house this
afternoon. Maybe I’ll fly down there afterward. At least you’d have an al y. And I’ve always wanted to see the Liberty Bell and . . . what else do they have in Philadelphia?”
“Humidity and cheesesteaks.” I managed to smile.
“That’s a bad combo—but let me see what’s going on in the
office and I’ll call you, all right?”
62
ELLEN J. GREEN
After our call ended, I flipped through the contacts in my
phone and dialed Dylan’s office. I left a detailed message about my plans and how to reach me. One person close by to rescue me was
all I needed.
I swallowed the rest of my beer in one gulp. Liquid courage for
what lay ahead.
CHAPTER 14
The heavy iron gate slid open, and I hesitated briefly at the entryway, my left foot clamped down on the clutch; I could feel the circulation leaving my toes. My brain was telling me to lift my foot, press the gas, and go.
The driveway twisted through the trees. I drove slowly, taking
note of everything: how this graveled road had deep grooves, like carriage wheels had traversed it years ago; how the foliage grew
so thick near the fence line, then thinned out closer to the house, almost like another barrier. A gate within a gate protecting the castle. The only things missing were a moat and a dragon.
I parked in the same spot as I had during my last visit and
dropped the tailgate on the Jeep. The back was filled with all sorts of odds and ends, and I began to rummage. I’d thrown my cell-phone charger carelessly in the back a few days ago. Now, given
the isolation of this place and Samantha’s warnings, worry niggled in the back of my brain; I wanted to make sure I had the charger
before I went into the house.
64
ELLEN J. GREEN
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” An elderly woman
stood behind me, her hands planted firmly on her hips. Large veins ran through her pale fingers. A scowl marred her wrinkled face.
“My name is Mackenzie. Mackenzie Carlisle.” I held out my
hand to shake hers, but she didn’t move.
“I asked you what you were doing here. I want an answer.” She
spread her feet farther apart, bracing herself for a battle, though it didn’t look like she could put up much of a fight. She was tall but rail thin. Her legs stuck out from under a polyester dress like two white pipe cleaners. Her skin was covered with wrinkly folds, and even the unpleasant look on her face didn’t take away from the
softness in her watery blue eyes.
“I’m a guest of Mrs. Whitfield’s—”
“She didn’t
61
“I went to the Caymans. Remember? What’s going on? What
happened with the will?”
I filled her in as fast as I could. “I know it’s crazy, but I’m telling you it’s true.” My hand tightened around my beer glass. “The trust is worth about fifteen million dol ars. Give or take a million.”
“And his mother’s alive? Oh my God.”
“I’ve been just holding all this in. I’m ready to burst.”
“Okay, okay, let’s think this through, Mackenzie. Do you real y
think staying with her is a great idea, given the circumstances?”
There was concern in her voice.
I took a bite of my burger and chewed. “Which circumstances
are you referring to?”
“Nick ran away and didn’t see her for years and said she was
dead. There’s a reason. And he turned down millions of dol ars, probably because of her. Not a couple thousand— mil ions. Is that enough, or should I go on?”
“I’ve met her. She’s a sad old woman. Maybe a little odd, iso-
lated. But this is my chance to learn more about Nick. It’ll be a few days, tops. And you and the lawyer will know where I am. It’ll be fine.” I hesitated. “The minute something happens, I’ll leave. Drive as fast as I can back to Maine.”
She sighed with resignation. “Look. At least keep your cell
phone charged, put 911 on speed dial, and make sure you sleep
with it.”
“Funny.”
“Not funny. Serious. Hey, listen, I’m closing on a house this
afternoon. Maybe I’ll fly down there afterward. At least you’d have an al y. And I’ve always wanted to see the Liberty Bell and . . . what else do they have in Philadelphia?”
“Humidity and cheesesteaks.” I managed to smile.
“That’s a bad combo—but let me see what’s going on in the
office and I’ll call you, all right?”
62
ELLEN J. GREEN
After our call ended, I flipped through the contacts in my
phone and dialed Dylan’s office. I left a detailed message about my plans and how to reach me. One person close by to rescue me was
all I needed.
I swallowed the rest of my beer in one gulp. Liquid courage for
what lay ahead.
CHAPTER 14
The heavy iron gate slid open, and I hesitated briefly at the entryway, my left foot clamped down on the clutch; I could feel the circulation leaving my toes. My brain was telling me to lift my foot, press the gas, and go.
The driveway twisted through the trees. I drove slowly, taking
note of everything: how this graveled road had deep grooves, like carriage wheels had traversed it years ago; how the foliage grew
so thick near the fence line, then thinned out closer to the house, almost like another barrier. A gate within a gate protecting the castle. The only things missing were a moat and a dragon.
I parked in the same spot as I had during my last visit and
dropped the tailgate on the Jeep. The back was filled with all sorts of odds and ends, and I began to rummage. I’d thrown my cell-phone charger carelessly in the back a few days ago. Now, given
the isolation of this place and Samantha’s warnings, worry niggled in the back of my brain; I wanted to make sure I had the charger
before I went into the house.
64
ELLEN J. GREEN
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” An elderly woman
stood behind me, her hands planted firmly on her hips. Large veins ran through her pale fingers. A scowl marred her wrinkled face.
“My name is Mackenzie. Mackenzie Carlisle.” I held out my
hand to shake hers, but she didn’t move.
“I asked you what you were doing here. I want an answer.” She
spread her feet farther apart, bracing herself for a battle, though it didn’t look like she could put up much of a fight. She was tall but rail thin. Her legs stuck out from under a polyester dress like two white pipe cleaners. Her skin was covered with wrinkly folds, and even the unpleasant look on her face didn’t take away from the
softness in her watery blue eyes.
“I’m a guest of Mrs. Whitfield’s—”
“She didn’t
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