held and she waited. He set his cup on the table
then folded his hands in his lap before he continued.
“Let me be clear. If you have lost something of tangible
value and you are unable to follow the traditional channels to recover your
losses, you may find I can be of help. If your story interests me.”
Margaret shifted to sit even straighter, as if sensing Archer’s
disappointment and seeking to correct her error. Her schoolgirl fantasy flashed
over her face, and she moistened her lips, tossed her hair, and somehow managed
to reveal a pale slice of lace-covered breast. I bit back my laugh and waited.
Ignoring the less than subtle offer, Archer continued. “I am
selective. I cover all expenses, and if I am successful, I keep half of what I
recover. Do you have something of value that requires reclaiming? Because I can
assure you I am not remotely interested in having Franklin.”
No, we’d both been there and done that.
"Oh…I…” She twisted her hands, then blurted out the
crux of her problem. “Franklin isn’t actually dead and the bastard stole my
share of the insurance money.”
The smile teased Archer’s mouth once more. “All right, you
have my interest. Tell me more.”
Margaret’s fingertips kept up a nearly constant motion
against her palms, and she moistened her lips once more. “Franklin was…is a
homos—gay. His father didn’t approve. When the senior Mr. Hartfield passed a
few years ago, he left the family money in trust until Franklin married and
stayed married for two years. To a woman, I mean.”
“Which is where you came in. I take it you were aware of the
circumstances before the marriage?”
“Yes. Franklin was very generous. We— He—”
“He was gay. We don’t need to know about that part of your
marriage, right now. Were you married long enough to meet the terms of the trust?”
“Yes. Actually, the arrangement worked out surprisingly
well.”
“Tell me about the life insurance. Why did Franklin plan the
fraud if the terms of the trust were met?”
“Well, I’ll tell you.” Margaret leaned forward, suddenly far
more interested in gossip than the role of Southern gentlewoman and looking
much more attractive as the twenty-something she really was.
“The trust was so much smoke and mirrors. The only item of
any real value the family attorney revealed when he finally disclosed the full
terms of the will was a term policy—to be paid on Franklin’s own life—not his
daddy’s. Which was stupid if you ask me, because it wasn’t like that would do Franklin
any good at all, now would it?” She giggled prettily, and I saw the corner of
Archer’s mouth twitch against the smile I knew was hovering.
“Franklin was livid, of course. It was obvious his daddy
knew Franklin would marry in order to get the money. We couldn’t even sell the mansion
since the property reverts to the state of Georgia once Franklin’s family is no
longer able to occupy the estate. So you can see, all we had was the trust
money. Which would come to me as his widow when he died. Believe me, neither of
us was interested in waiting until he was old and gray.”
“All right, so you hatched a plot to make it appear he died
and Franklin prepared to assume a new identity?” I asked. Plots were Archer’s
forte, but I was closer to the criminal underbelly of Atlanta.
“Yes. Although, he kept the details to himself. He took
several trips around that time. At least two were to the Caribbean. I wasn’t to
know when or how it would happen, so my shock would be genuine.”
I took a moment to admire the ease with which she was able
to summon the crocodile tears that sparkled in her pale blue eyes before I
asked my next question.
“How is it the insurance company paid out the claim? Didn’t
they suspect fraud?”
Wide eyes blinked rapidly as she brushed at a fat tear
hanging from her lashes and I knew she’d played the part of the sweet young
widow with considerable skill.
“Oh, my. That was
then folded his hands in his lap before he continued.
“Let me be clear. If you have lost something of tangible
value and you are unable to follow the traditional channels to recover your
losses, you may find I can be of help. If your story interests me.”
Margaret shifted to sit even straighter, as if sensing Archer’s
disappointment and seeking to correct her error. Her schoolgirl fantasy flashed
over her face, and she moistened her lips, tossed her hair, and somehow managed
to reveal a pale slice of lace-covered breast. I bit back my laugh and waited.
Ignoring the less than subtle offer, Archer continued. “I am
selective. I cover all expenses, and if I am successful, I keep half of what I
recover. Do you have something of value that requires reclaiming? Because I can
assure you I am not remotely interested in having Franklin.”
No, we’d both been there and done that.
"Oh…I…” She twisted her hands, then blurted out the
crux of her problem. “Franklin isn’t actually dead and the bastard stole my
share of the insurance money.”
The smile teased Archer’s mouth once more. “All right, you
have my interest. Tell me more.”
Margaret’s fingertips kept up a nearly constant motion
against her palms, and she moistened her lips once more. “Franklin was…is a
homos—gay. His father didn’t approve. When the senior Mr. Hartfield passed a
few years ago, he left the family money in trust until Franklin married and
stayed married for two years. To a woman, I mean.”
“Which is where you came in. I take it you were aware of the
circumstances before the marriage?”
“Yes. Franklin was very generous. We— He—”
“He was gay. We don’t need to know about that part of your
marriage, right now. Were you married long enough to meet the terms of the trust?”
“Yes. Actually, the arrangement worked out surprisingly
well.”
“Tell me about the life insurance. Why did Franklin plan the
fraud if the terms of the trust were met?”
“Well, I’ll tell you.” Margaret leaned forward, suddenly far
more interested in gossip than the role of Southern gentlewoman and looking
much more attractive as the twenty-something she really was.
“The trust was so much smoke and mirrors. The only item of
any real value the family attorney revealed when he finally disclosed the full
terms of the will was a term policy—to be paid on Franklin’s own life—not his
daddy’s. Which was stupid if you ask me, because it wasn’t like that would do Franklin
any good at all, now would it?” She giggled prettily, and I saw the corner of
Archer’s mouth twitch against the smile I knew was hovering.
“Franklin was livid, of course. It was obvious his daddy
knew Franklin would marry in order to get the money. We couldn’t even sell the mansion
since the property reverts to the state of Georgia once Franklin’s family is no
longer able to occupy the estate. So you can see, all we had was the trust
money. Which would come to me as his widow when he died. Believe me, neither of
us was interested in waiting until he was old and gray.”
“All right, so you hatched a plot to make it appear he died
and Franklin prepared to assume a new identity?” I asked. Plots were Archer’s
forte, but I was closer to the criminal underbelly of Atlanta.
“Yes. Although, he kept the details to himself. He took
several trips around that time. At least two were to the Caribbean. I wasn’t to
know when or how it would happen, so my shock would be genuine.”
I took a moment to admire the ease with which she was able
to summon the crocodile tears that sparkled in her pale blue eyes before I
asked my next question.
“How is it the insurance company paid out the claim? Didn’t
they suspect fraud?”
Wide eyes blinked rapidly as she brushed at a fat tear
hanging from her lashes and I knew she’d played the part of the sweet young
widow with considerable skill.
“Oh, my. That was
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