Frost Security(9)

The man wore a well-tailored suit. Not as expensive as some cuts I'd seen, but still pretty decent. It struck me as odd, though, because you hardly ever saw those kinds of outfits up here. Most people tended to go pretty casual, jeans and a flannel. It was just more rustic in these parts. “You, actually,” the man said, smiling widely.

“Me?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, an uncertain smile on my face as I stopped a few paces from him.

“Yes,” he replied as he took a step in my direction. “You are Jessica Long, correct?”

I nodded, not exactly sure where this was going. “I am.”

“Evan Case,” he replied, sticking out his hand. “I represent the late Blake Axelrod's estate.”

“Oh,” I said as I took his hand. “His estate?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “There are a few items in his will that we wanted to sort out with you, a few pieces from his collection that he left to you when he passed.”

Items from his collection? Blake hadn't ever mentioned anything like that to me. And why not his piece of the business? If he was going to leave me anything, I would have suspected that. Confused, I ushered the lawyer into my office.

I sat down at my little desk and he took a seat across from me. “Sorry for the mess,” I said. “I'm never been much for administrative work.”

He laughed as he looked around. “It's always surprising to me how much one office seems to look like another. You should see my partner's in the firm. Imagine all this, but legal briefs instead.” He flipped his briefcase around and set it on his lap, popped the latches and opened it up so he could dig around in the papers.

“He left me a few pieces from his collection?” I asked, looking for clarification more than anything else.

“Yes,” Evan Case replied as he pulled out some paper work and passed it over to me.

I took the documents, flipped through them. They were for a few pieces of his I'd adored. One by a local artist of gray wolf hunting an elk, but in a modernist style, and another two from a Santa Fe painter who'd passed away a few years ago. Individually, they were both worth quite a bit.

I glanced up at the lawyer from my paperwork. “Nothing about the gallery, then?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, flipping through the will till he found the spot in the document that he was looking for. “Yes, right here. To my nephew Wyatt Axelrod, I leave my fifty percent partnership in the Curious Turtle. May the art contained within its walls inspire you to the same heights it has inspired me, and aid you in carrying on my cause of nature conservancy and philanthropy.”

My face flushed, my stomach felt queasy. I slumped back in the chair, a sudden wave of nausea sweeping over me at his words.

Evan glanced over the top of the document. He must have been able to tell from the look on my face how disappointed I was, because he just winced. “Sorry, Ms. Long. Sometimes I'm the bearer of good news, sometimes bad tidings.”

I waved him off. “No,” I replied, “I completely understand. You're just executing the estate, right? Not your fault.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I thought the paintings he left you were quite lovely.”

He was right, they were lovely. But, they weren't quite as lovely as being the sole owner of my own art gallery. I smiled a little at his sentiment, nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Case.”

He began to gather up his papers, tuck them away back into his briefcase. “The family will be going through and cataloging the voluminous possessions of Mr. Axelrod over the next several weeks, so you should be able to get into the estate by just calling ahead to my office. We'll be more than happy to assist you in shipping.”

I nodded and went to stand as he did. “Thank you for coming by.”

“Oh, don't mention it,” he said. “I love making trips up here to the high country. It's lovely this time of year.”

I showed him out of the office and walked him back to the front door. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Richard Murdoch scoping out the place from across the street in his beat up old Jeep. I could feel him watching me, feel him watching the lawyer.

“Oh, and Mr. Case, I'm curious,” I said, stopping him as he was about to leave. “This Wyatt Axelrod? Do you have any idea about him, my new partner?”

He shrugged and made a face, shaking his head. “I just know he was my client's nephew, to be honest. I'm honestly a little surprised he hasn't been in touch with you already. I would think he was aware that his uncle was leaving him his piece of the business, considering how detailed the will was.”

I nodded, forced another smile. “Thank you again. And drive safely, Mr. Case.”