She read where he indicated, her lips moving slowly as she read the few words. Then she looked up at him, the paper trembling in her hands.
“Mr. Sam. This ain’t right.”
“What’s not right about it?”
“You leaving all this to me and Gabriel?”
“That’s right. My property. I can give it to whoever I damn well want to,’scuse my French.”
“But you got family. You got Mr. Daryl, and Miss Tippi. And your other daughter too.”
“I trust you to take care of Daryl, if he’s still around. And Tippi. And Suzie, well, I doubt she’d want anything from me seeing as how she hasn’t even called me in over four years. And you and Gabriel are my family too. So I want to provide for you. This is my way of doing that.”
“You sure’bout this?”
“Sure I’m sure.”
She reached across the table and took his hand. “You a good man, Mr. Sam. You probably outlive all of us. But I thank you for all you done for me and Gabriel. And I take care of everybody, Mr. Sam. Everybody real good. Just like you would.”
“Ruth Ann, you can do anything with the property you want. Including selling it if you need the money.”
She looked appalled by the suggestion. “I ain’t never gonna sell this place, Mr. Sam. This here’s our home.”
There was a noise at the doorway and they looked over to see Gabriel standing there.
“Hey, Gabriel,” said Quarry. “Me and your ma just talking about some things.”
“What things, Mr. Sam?” Gabriel looked at his mother and noted the tears sliding down her thin, flat cheeks. “Is everything okay?” he said slowly.
“Come on over here, you,” his mother said, beckoning to him. He ran to her and she hugged him. Quarry patted Gabriel on the head, folded up his will, put it back in his pocket, and left the room.
He had another letter to write.
And he had to go see Tippi.
And then he was going to the mine.
It was getting close to the end now.
CHAPTER 46
FOR THE SECOND TIME in as many days, Sean and Michelle listened to a preacher talk about the dearly departed. It was a rainy, blustery afternoon and black umbrellas were braced against the elements as Pam Dutton was laid to rest in a cemetery five miles from where she’d died. The children were in the front row under the canopy with their father. Tuck’s head was bandaged and the man looked like he had downed a few cocktails and a handful of pills. His sister, the First Lady, sat next to him, her arm protectively around his shoulders. Colleen Dutton was perched in Jane’s lap. John was snuggled against his father. Next to Jane was her husband, who was dressed in black and looking solemnly presidential.
A wall of “A-team” Secret Service surrounded the burial site. The surrounding streets had been cleared and shut down, with every manhole cover in the roads the motorcade had taken welded shut. The cemetery was closed to everyone other than the bereaved family and invited friends. A regiment of journalists and TV crews waited just outside the gates hoping to catch a glimpse of the president and grieving First Lady when they left the graveyard.
Michelle nudged Sean and inclined her head to the left. Agent Waters
of the FBI was in attendance. And his gaze was dead on Sean and Michelle.
“He doesn’t look too happy,” she said.
“I bet he’s never been happy in his entire life.”
They’d caught an early morning flight back from Tennessee. On the plane back they’d talked about what had happened the night before.
When they’d gotten back to Frank Maxwell’s house, the man hadn’t returned. Michelle had tried calling him on his cell phone but there was no answer. They were just about to call in the cops when he had come through the garage door.
“Dad?”