Authors: Jana Deleon
Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Romance Romantic Suspense
Chapter Two
Alaina and William stared at her, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and surprise. She’d expected as much. Connie Smith, café waitress, had served them both breakfast on many occasions. She’d never provided her real name to anyone in Calais before now. And as her looks were a perfect blend of both parents, she didn’t favor either enough to draw suspicion.
“I have documentation,” she said and pulled some faded, worn papers from her purse. “A birth certificate and a driver’s license with my real name—I’d appreciate it if you don’t ask where I got the one I’ve been using.”
She stood there, holding the documents, with both William and Alaina staring at her in shock. Finally, Alaina rose from her chair and walked the couple of steps to stand in front of her.
“Danae?” Alaina said, her voice wavering. “You were just a toddler... You had on a new dress that day—”
“Yellow with white roses,” Danae interrupted.
Alaina’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes.” She threw her arms around Danae and squeezed her tightly. “I never thought... When I came here, I didn’t know what would happen.”
Danae struggled to maintain her composure. “I didn’t know, either.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I first arrived?”
“We’re fine, Ms. Morgan,” William’s voice sounded behind them.
Danae released Alaina and glanced back in time to see Secretary Grim pull the door closed, her frown still fixed in place. Alaina smiled at her and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I...uh...” Danae struggled to find a way to explain. “I don’t really know why I came to Calais, or even to Louisiana. I mean, I guess I thought I could talk to our stepfather and maybe find out something—anything—about my past, maybe find you and Joelle. But I never got the chance and then he died.”
Danae sniffed and willed the tears that were building to stay in place. Now was not the time to go soft. “I don’t really remember. I don’t remember anything, and I kept thinking that it was important. That my life here mattered and I needed to know. I know it sounds silly...”
Alaina squeezed her arm. “No. It doesn’t sound silly at all. Not to me.”
Danae could tell by the way Alaina said it that she meant what she said. She wasn’t just being nice. She understood, as only the three sisters could possibly understand. A wave of relief passed over her, and the tug at her heart, the one she’d felt for Alaina the first time she saw her, grew stronger.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about how our stepfather lived,” Danae continued. “I never even saw him. Then he died and you turned up.”
Alaina smiled. “I felt a connection to you when we first met that I didn’t understand. I slipped so easily into conversation with you, which is rare. Maybe somewhere deep down, I knew.”
Danae sniffed and her eyes misted up a bit. “I wanted to say something when you arrived, but what would people think—my working here with an assumed name and all?”
She looked over at the attorney. “I swear I didn’t know about the inheritance when I came to Calais.”
The attorney waved a hand at the chairs in front of his desk, encouraging them to sit. “Please don’t trouble yourself with those kinds of thoughts, Ms. LeBeau. You couldn’t have been aware of the conditions of your mother’s will. Ophelia was a very private person, and your stepfather wasn’t about to tell anyone that he wasn’t really the wealthy man he seemed.”
As Danae slid into the chair next to Alaina, she felt some of the tension lessen in her shoulders and back. “But I still came here under false pretenses.”
“No,” Alaina said. “You came here looking for answers and didn’t want everyone to know that evil old man was your stepfather. I hardly think anyone will fault you for your feelings.”
The attorney nodded. “Your sister is correct. While some of the more dramatic of Calais’s residents may find some fun in theorizing as to your hidden identity, those who partake in logical thinking will not so much as raise an eyebrow at your choices. In fact, most would assume you wise.”
Danae smiled. “You’re very refreshing, Mr. Duhon.”
“Isn’t he the best?” Alaina beamed. “Until I met him, I had no idea attorneys could be competent, nice and have a personality. I’d thought I was the only one.”
“Please call me William,” he said, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Well, ladies, we have a lot to discuss, but I can cover the basics of the inheritance now and we can meet at a later date to discuss the rest.”
Danae nodded. “I know I have to live on the property for two weeks and that Sheriff Trahan will verify my residency every day. At least, that’s what the café gossip is.”
“This time, the café gossip is correct. That was one of the things Alaina and I were discussing, among everything else.”
“Why? Have the requirements changed?”
“No, but the storm last week did a lot of damage. Much of the house no longer has power, and the heating system has failed completely. Essentially, the house has gone from barely habitable to not habitable in a matter of days.”
Danae pulled at a loose thread on the chair cushion. “So what do we do?” The thought of living in that big, scary house with limited power wasn’t anywhere on her bucket list.
William frowned. “That is a fine question. I have already hired someone to begin the repairs, but the work could take a while to complete. I assume you’d like to get this over with.”
Danae nodded.
He tapped his pen on the desk then jumped up with more speed than Danae would have thought possible for a man his age. He pulled open a drawer in the filing cabinet behind him and removed a thick folder.
He slid back into his chair and flipped through the pages, scanning and frowning as he went. Danae looked over at Alaina, but she just shrugged. Finally, he closed the document and beamed across the desk at them.
“You’re renting the cabin off Bayou Glen Drive, right?” William asked.
“Yes,” Danae replied, “but I don’t see—”
“That cabin is part of the estate,” William said. “The inheritance documents don’t specify that you must occupy the main house, so I’m to assume that if you wanted to pitch a tent somewhere on estate acreage, that would also qualify. But in your case, you merely have to remain where you are for at least another two weeks, subject to monitoring and verification by our friend the sheriff.”
“Oh!” Danae exclaimed. “Well, that’s great.”
Alaina clapped her hands. “I told you William is the best.”
The ring of a cell phone interrupted their celebration. Alaina pulled her phone out of her purse and glanced at the display.
“I’m sorry,” Alaina said. “I have to take this.”
Alaina said very little but Danae could tell by the tone of her voice that something was wrong. Her sister frowned as she slipped the phone back into her purse.
“Is everything okay?” Danae asked.
“No. My mother—the one who raised me—fell yesterday and broke her leg. My father died a couple years back, and my stepbrother and stepsister both work full-time and can’t afford to take off. They know I resigned from the firm and asked if I can stay with her for a week or so until the home health nurse is available.”
Disappointment rolled over Danae and she tried to fight it down. Of course Alaina had to go help the woman who’d raised her, but she’d been hoping for long hours to catch up with her sister—to pick her memory for glimpses of their life before their mother died. Surely Alaina, the oldest of the sisters, had memories of their childhood.
Alaina put her hand on Danae’s arm. “I’m so sorry to have to leave right now.”
“Don’t be silly,” Danae said. “We have plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere, not even after my two weeks are up.”
Alaina leaned over and hugged her before rising from her chair. “I need to book a flight and pack a bag. You gave me your cell-phone number weeks ago, so I’ll call you as soon as I get a chance and you’ll have mine. I think there’s a midmorning flight to Boston that I may be able to catch if I hurry.”
Alaina hurried around the desk to plant a kiss on a blushing William’s cheek, then rushed out of the office, closing the door behind her.
William watched Alaina, smiling, then looked at Danae after she’d gone. “She’s quite a woman, your sister. I think you two are going to get along very well.”
“I’ve liked her since the moment I met her. That’s a real relief for me. That and the fact that she wasn’t disappointed that I’m her sister.”
“Why would she be?”
“I don’t know—I mean, she’s this big-shot attorney and I’m just a café waitress. We’re hardly in the same realm.”
“You had two very different upbringings after you were stripped from your home.” He gave her a kindly look. “In my attempts to locate you, I learned some about your life in California. You’ve done well for yourself, Danae. Please don’t ever doubt that.”
She sniffed at the unexpected kindness. “Thanks.”
A movie reel of where she’d come from up to where she was now flashed through her mind, and she realized that right now was the turning point—the time where she could choose to make everything in her life different or simply fade away into obscurity again. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time.
“I can still have access to the house, right?” she asked.
“Yes, of course. It is—or will be—your property, after all. Is there anything in particular you wanted to do? Alaina made quite a dent in remodeling and cleaning. Her work in the kitchen transformed the room.”
She smiled. “I’m sure cleaning is something I could handle, but what I really want is the ability to go through the papers and pictures—see if I can find stuff about our past with our mother. I was so young...”
“And you want to remember.” William sighed. “It makes me so sad that you girls grew up without your mother. Ophelia was such a wonderful woman and her delight in you girls was apparent. Her death was a loss to the entire community but was devastating for you girls.”
He removed his glasses and rubbed them with a cleaning cloth on his desk, and Danae could tell he still felt her mother’s death. It made her both happy and sad that her mother was such a wonderful person she’d left such an impression, but then died without living her life to the fullest.
William slipped his glasses back on and cleared his throat. “It so happens that I need someone to go through the documents in the house. I haven’t been able to find anyone willing to do the work at the house, so I was going to have everything boxed up and shipped to an analyst in New Orleans. But if you’re willing to do the work, I’d be happy to pay you, instead of removing the documents.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Inventory lists, receipts—anything that gives me the ability to construct a list of property. I need to have it evaluated for tax purposes and such. So much is stuffed in the attic, closets and heaven only knows where else that it would take years to uncover it all. I hoped that the most valuable of objects would be contained on an asset listing or that the receipts would be filed with important household documents. Then I could valuate those items, assuming we locate them, and assign a base value to everything else.”
Danae could only imagine the mess that must be contained inside the massive old mansion. William definitely had his work cut out for him.
“I know you have your job at the café,” William continued, “so please don’t feel you have to accept my offer, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you the rate for the work is twenty-five dollars an hour.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s boring and dirty work, but requires concentration and attention to detail. The rate is standard for this sort of thing.”
Danae ran a mental budget through her head. The rate was considerably more than she made at the café, but once the job was over, what would she do? If she quit now, it would be unlikely that she could get the job back. The waitress she’d replaced six months ago had moved off to New Orleans with her boyfriend, but that relationship had ended and she was back in Calais and hoping for her old job back.
“I anticipate the work will take several months,” William said and Danae wondered if he could read her mind. “And during your two-week inheritance stint, you won’t be required to pay rent. The estate can hardly charge you for meeting the terms of the will, but the remainder of the lease has to stay in effect.”
In several months, she could easily save enough money to cover herself for more than a year. She had no debt and knew how to live on next to nothing. And maybe, if the job lasted long enough, she’d make enough to invest in the future she really wanted—to become a chef. Twenty-five an hour would go a good ways toward paying for culinary school in New Orleans.
“I think I’ll take that job,” she said.
William beamed. “Good. I’ll have my secretary draw up the paperwork.”
“Great,” she said, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake.
“You know, I haven’t located Joelle yet, but I have a solid lead and expect to find your sister before month’s end. I have no doubt I can convince her to take part in the inheritance requirements.”
Danae shook her head. “What if she’s got a family, a job...things she can’t just up and leave?”
“Yes, all those things matter, but the reality is, with you and Alaina meeting the requirements, Joelle has no risk. Taking those two weeks out of her life will leave all three of you so wealthy that you’ll never have to work again unless you choose to.”
Danae sucked in a breath. “I didn’t... I had no idea.”
“Why would you? The estate looks like it needs a bulldozer rather than a cleaning, but the reality is your mother was an incredibly wealthy woman, and even your stepfather couldn’t manage to put a dent in her accumulated fortune.”
“So once Joelle finishes her two weeks, I...”
“Have the entire world at your fingertips. Whatever you desire for a future, you’ll have the means to pursue it.” He smiled. “Unless, of course, serving coffee and incredible pie to aging attorneys and disgruntled sheriffs is where your dreams lie.”
She laughed. “You make it sound so tempting.”
“Yes, well, as much as I’d love to see that beautiful smile at Johnny’s Café, I prefer for you to have what you want most. It may take a while,” he warned, “to locate Joelle, finish up her term and then push the entire mess through Louisiana’s often frustrating legal system. But it shouldn’t take more than eighteen months, even if Joelle doesn’t fulfill her time right until the end of the year allotted.”