Aaron Elkins: Old Bones

"Nobody knows for sure, but Mathilde said he’d been getting more depressed for years about living someone else’s life, that he’d grumbled to her once about being buried with someone else’s gravestone over him."

"I can understand that," she said with a little shudder. "So when he found he only had a year to live, that decided him?"

"Looks like it."

She sipped her coffee quietly, watching through the window as the big ferry tooted and backed slowly into its berth. "It’s hard to imagine Ray Schaefer planning to get married."

"I know, but Claire was practically made for him. Vice-versa too, I think. They’re planning on coming up this way in the summer. You’ll like her."

"I’m sure I will." She had tipped her head to rest it against Gideon’s shoulder, but now sat up suddenly. "The inheritance-Who’s going to get it?"

"Well, Joly says he thinks it’ll work like this: The will Guillaume made in 1941 is the last one anybody can find, so it’s the one that counts. At that time he left everything to his closest relative; his father’s sister. She died in 1942, a little before Guillaume, which means it should have gone to Claude, her son."

"You mean Claude was right? He really was the legitimate heir?"

Gideon nodded. "But now with him being dead, Joly says it’ll go to Claire, with maybe something to Leona."

"Mm, so Aunt Sophie doesn’t get her library."

Gideon shook his head. "Claire took her aside and told her she wants her to have it. Sophie, of course, said not on your life, but she’d love to have a picture book or two. Claire also told the servants that they don’t have to worry about their stipend."

"She does sound nice. But I wonder if this is going to make problems between her and Ray."

"You mean because she’s going to be rich? Are you serious?"

"Well, yes. It’s bound to make some big changes for them, and Raymond is a very sweet man, but you have to admit he tends to get a little nervous when anything upsets that nice, orderly routine of his."

Gideon tipped her head back to his shoulder and stroked her dense, black hair. "Well, you know what they say: Maybe money doesn’t bring happiness, but it sure enough quiets the nerves."

She laughed and snuggled in a little closer. " Who says?"

"Do you mean to tell me," Gideon said, "I never told you about my Uncle Bubba Jim?"