Stuart Woods - Under the Lake

“I remember his working on something all one morning at the office and saying he was going over to your place,” Scotty said.

McCauliffe nodded. “It’s pretty straightforward. He leaves everything to his only living relative, Heather M. MacDonald, also known as Scotty Miller.”

“Is it legal?” Howell asked.

“Airtight,” the lawyer replied, then took another, plain envelope from his pocket and handed it to Scotty. “He left this for you.”

Scotty opened the envelope and read the sheets inside while Howell and McCauliffe waited. Finally, she looked up. “It’s a short version of what he told us last night,” she said, “and the number of the Swiss bank account.”

“That’s a bunch of money, Scotty,” Howell said.

“I don’t want it,” she said, unhesitatingly.

“It’s dirty money. I liked him, in spite of everything, and I’d rather forget that part of him.” She turned to McCauliffe. “Can I give it away?”

“Well,” the lawyer said, “there’ll have to be some negotiations with the Internal Revenue Service; you can give away what’s left. In any case, you don’t need the money. Bo was Eric Sutherland’s heir, and you’re Bo’s heir. I can’t give you a figure off the top of my head, but you’re a very wealthy young woman.”

Scotty nodded. “That occurred to me. I don’t know what the hell I’ll do with it.”

“There’s a fair amount of liquid stuff – stocks and bonds, plus his house – but the main thing is the lake. You’re the majority stockholder in the power company – the banks have a chunk.”

Scotty looked at him and grinned. “Does that mean I can hand out lakefront lots around here?”

“Yep. You’re the boss, or will be, when the will is probated.”

“Okay, Johnny,” she said, turning to How-ell, “Take your pick. Find a lot you like, and it’s yours. It’s the very least I can do for you.”

“Thanks, Scotty, I’ll take you up on it. I think a place on another part of the lake, though. It gets a little hairy around here.”

“There’s something else, Scotty,” McCauliffe said. “It seems pretty clear that you’re entitled to the money that Sutherland thought he paid Donal O’Coineen, plus the interest that’s been building up for the last twenty-five years. I’ll make a claim with the bank, if you like. Strictly speaking, the transaction never took place, since Kathleen forged Donal’s signature on the transfer deed, but it hardly matters, I think, because you’re O’Coineen’s heir as well as Sutherland’s. They were both your grandfathers. I can straighten out the legal end of it with the bank.”

Scotty put her hands to her cheeks. “This is getting to be too much for me to handle.”

“Can I make a suggestion, Scotty?” Howell asked.

“Sure. I could use a suggestion.”

“Before you start thinking too much about your inheritance, why don’t you let Mac sort things out for you here? Just go back to Atlanta, write your story, and be a reporter. I think you’d be very unhappy doing anything else for quite a while, speaking as somebody who left the profession before he should have.”

“That’s good advice,” Scotty replied. “Mac, you want to be my lawyer?”

McCauliffe grinned. “Sure, I’m already working for the power company, anyway, for my sins.” He closed his briefcase and stood up. “Well, I’ve got things to do. We’ll talk later.” He left Howell and Scotty alone.

Scotty came and put her arms around Howell.

He winced. “Ouch,” he said.

“Sorry, I forgot about the ribs. Listen, why don’t you come back to Atlanta with me? I’ve gotten sort of used to having you around.”

Howell put his hands on her shoulders. “That’s very tempting, but you and I have different fish to fry for a while. When this story breaks, you’re going to have to spend some time dealing with fame, not to mention fortune. Me, well, I think I’ve got a shot at recapturing something I thought I had lost. I’m not sure I could do it if anyone were watching.”

“I guess you’re right,” she replied, and kissed him lightly. “I’ll miss you, though.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Howell said. “Listen, Scotty, there was something going on between you and Bo last night that I never got a handle on. What was it?”

Scotty grinned ruefully. “Well, that was something between father and daughter, I guess you’d have to say. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one of these days.” She sighed. “I’m going to have him buried in his family plot, next to his mother. There’s nobody else to do it, and I guess it’s my job.”

Howell nodded. “You might think about putting Eric Sutherland alongside them. The three of them never found much peace together in life, but somehow, it seems right.”

“That makes sense. I’ll get Mac to make the arrangements.”

There was a knock at the cabin door. Howell went to answer it and found Leonie Kelly standing there. He turned to Scotty and McCauliffe. “Will you excuse us for a few minutes?” He walked her out onto the deck.

“I heard about Bo,” she said. “It’s all over the town; but what happened here?” she asked, picking her way through the broken glass.

Howell told her about his and Scotty’s experiences of the night before. “You’re the only person I know, apart from your mother, who would believe it,” he said. “I don’t think Mac does, and we gave a laundered version to the state patrol.”

“Mama died early this morning,” Leonie said. “Just before dawn.”

“I’m sorry. She was quite a lady.”

“It was a relief. She took a long time about it. She was waiting for things to be resolved here.” Leonie looked out over the lake.

“It’s a peculiar thing,” Howell reflected, looking out over the lake. “The symmetry of everything that’s happened here is remarkable. The same things kept happening to the different players – what went on in the valley; the steps two women – Bo’s mother and you – took independently to avoid it; murder – Bo’s mother, the O’Coineen family, Sutherland; and now, within the past forty-eight hours, three of the players in the game – Sutherland, Bo, and your mother have died, two of them leaving written accounts in a last minute attempt to set things straight.”

“Mama wouldn’t have found that remarkable,” Leonie said. “She would have regarded a lot of what happened as evil, but all of it as natural, as human nature; and she would have regarded the outcome as the most natural thing of all – perfect justice. In fact, she said something like that just before she died.”

“What did she say?”

“She looked at us – we were all in her room – and smiled, and said, ”I can go, now, it’s all been put right.“ ”

“Not quite,” Howell said, “but it will be put right before the day’s out. I’ve already talked with Enda McCauliffe about setting something up for the baby.”

“I’ve told you… ”

“By the way, was Denham White once in love with you?”

She nodded. “His family wouldn’t let us marry. I don’t blame them, really. I don’t blame Denham, either. I suppose I was trying to use him to find a way out of here. That was before I realized that this is where I belong. I still have a family to take care of. But I don’t need your…”

“No, listen to me. You were right last night; I’ve always found it too easy to move on and let other people sort out my responsibilities. It’s time I stopped that. In a few days I’m coming into a bunch of money for a job I’m doing, and it’s going to Mac’s office to help the child later on. Mac knows it’s my baby, too, and I’ve told him I don’t care who else knows. I may not be able to be a perfect father to him, but I can give him my name and find ways to help him get through his life.” He took her shoulders and turned her to him. “I want to do that, do you understand?” Howell didn’t want Lurton Pitts’s money any more, and doing this for Leonie made him feel less ashamed of the way he had earned it.