Chapter Three Her

Chapter Three Her

Present Day

Elias Zimmer showed up at the front door two days after Richmond and his box were dumped in the ground. After the initial

flurry of activity and accusations following Richmond’s death, my life had returned to its usual quiet. Usual in the sense of life without Richmond. So, happier.

At the time of his death we’d been married for ninety-seven days. A minister performed the very private ceremony in the family

room of a house. No kids. No relatives. No friends, except for Elias, Richmond’s personal lawyer.

Less than four months had passed since I took on the last name I loathed and married the man I ached to kill. Now I lived

in the six-million-dollar house the original Mrs. Dougherty, Kathryn, handpicked but never occupied because Richmond divorced

her first. A seven-bedroom house in Rye, New York, ridiculously oversized for the two people who were supposed to reside in

it full-time.

Kathryn, who everyone agreed had impeccable taste—except for her taste in men, which could only be described as questionable—picked the place because of the lush grounds, the high-end appointments, and the close-in commute to Rich mond’s work at New York–Presbyterian Hospital in upper Manhattan. As part of the divorce, she got “stuck” with the older family home nearby, where she’d raised the kids. A mini mansion she now viewed as a hovel. Never mind that Kathryn’s hovel actually was beautiful, still big, and expensive, just less enormous and less expensive than the one I’d snagged. Mine was also closer to the water, which made Kathryn wail about the unfairness.

What- the-fuck -ever.

The house and Richmond’s will and the trust, and all the related money stuff, were the reasons Elias sat at my breakfast bar,

sipping a latte I made with that fancy coffeemaker that took two days and an online video to learn to use.

“How are you?” he asked.

A seemingly innocuous question. My get-ready-for-a-shitstorm shield went up. “Fine.”

Elias eyed me over the cup.

I eyed him back.

Elias was a lawyer, which meant he wasn’t necessarily a narcissist or a psychopath but probably. Unclear at the moment which

way he’d tip.

He definitely fell into the attorney category of should be ashamed of his outrageous hourly rate but wasn’t . All pressed in his dark blue suit. Attractive and chiseled enough to win over a jury. Not too attractive or chiseled to

piss them off or cheer for him to lose. Brown hair, graying at the temples. Dark eyes, like a shark lurking in shallow water.

Always watching, assessing, judging.

Various online searches touted his self-made-man status. A guy who went from dockworker’s son to big-time partner in a big-time New York City law firm. In his early fifties and divorced in a we’re still best friends sort of way where he dragged the ex, Jessica or Jenny or something with a J sound, to all of his social events.

That last part suggested he might have something to hide, and I’d dug around to find out. Good to have leverage and all that,

but unlike many in his social class who could best be summed up as new money and very questionable, Elias seemed to be exactly as presented. A successful, very smart attorney.

Call me skeptical.

In past meetings, formal and informal, he’d spoken with an economy of words and glanced at his phone every few seconds. He’d

been in the house for more than ten minutes and had yet to pull his cell out of his suit jacket. That could mean anything.

“There are a few papers I need you to sign.” He plunked down a stack on the kitchen counter in front of him.

“Uh-huh.” Not signing those.

He smiled as if he knew the direction of my thoughts. “Technically, I’m your attorney now.”

“Not technically or otherwise.”

“This is a statement signed by Richmond.” He pulled out a sheet from the top of the pile, as if he’d expected my screw-you

response and prepared for it, then laid the document in front of me. “He was quite clear that if anything happened to him

I was to step in, secure your rights, and represent your interests in his estate. He said I was to make sure you were happy.”

That didn’t sound like Richmond. “Why?”

Elias laughed. “Honestly? I have no idea. Even though what Richmond told me was confidential due to attorney-client privilege, he refused to tell me why the two of you married so quickly, or at all, and why it was so important to him that you got whatever you wanted even after his death.”

There it was. The backhanded question I had no intention of answering. But kudos to the counselor for trying to pry open that

bolted door.

“A love match?” Not sure how I got that vomit-inducing phrase out. Especially when the real answer was that Richmond wanted

to preserve his unearned hero status after death and believed our Faustian bargain would ensure his legacy. Well, he miscalculated

because I always intended to ruin him—dead or alive—and keep the money.

“You slept in separate bedrooms.” Elias hesitated after dropping that insight. “You never said a decent word to or about each

other, and that includes on your wedding day a short time ago.”

“A hundred and eleven days.” But it felt longer because every day of being the second Mrs. Dougherty dragged on like the countdown

in a long prison sentence.

“I think you had something on him. Something very bad.”

“That sounds like blackmail.” And it was, which made me the blackmailed-him-into-marriage type. A crown I wore with pride.

Elias shrugged. “That’s between the two of you... or was. My only concern now is to ensure your rights to the house and

the assets, even if that means battling Kathryn and the kids.”

“Ah, yes. Them.” A few of my many outstanding problems. “But isn’t it a conflict for you to represent Richmond then represent

me?”

“He signed a waiver.”

This felt like a trap. “I’m not sure what there is to handle since Richmond and Kathryn had a divorce agreement.”

“True, but the divorce, his remarriage to you, and his death all happened within a very short time. Some might question the timing.”

The whole damn town questioned it. “ Some should mind their own business.”

“You are my priority.”

That sounded wrong. “So I’m stuck paying your outrageous hourly fee now?”

Elias downed the rest of his latte. “Yes, but you’re welcome to obtain your own counsel. If you do, I will work with that

person to protect your interests.”

And that sounded too easy. “What are you doing right now?”

He reshuffled the papers into a tight, orderly bundle. “Lawyering.”

“Yeah, I get that. I mean the being decent part.” The concepts of decency and niceness always stumped me. I wasn’t raised with either. I grew up in a household driven

by petty grievances... and some not so petty. You schemed and looked for an advantage to win every battle, and everything

was a battle. The steps were clear. Study. Wait. Attack. That was on the good days. “You’re not name-calling or looking at

me like I’m beneath you.”

“Sounds like you’ve known some awful people.”

“Your social set excels at that sort of thing.”

He smiled. “It’s also your social set now.”

“I dare you to tell the neighbors that.”

He sighed in the way older wealthy dudes did when they wanted to bring a conversation to a close on their terms. “Despite your reservations, which are understandable under the circumstances, Richmond did provide for you but there’s a sig nificant chance of Kathryn contesting the agreement now that he’s dead.”

Annoying but not a surprise. “She’s the gift that keeps on giving.”

“I believe she would say the same thing about you.”

The distinctive bong of the doorbell echoed through the house in a deep, rich tone that could only be described as overly dramatic. Less drama

would be a nice change.

I made a mental note to disconnect it as I picked up my cellphone and clicked on the security system app. The house sat behind

a gate and that gate should be locked, sending a big keep out warning to anyone who wandered by, including anyone with the last name of Dougherty.

The video filled my screen. “Oh, shit.”

“Kathryn?”

“Worse.” I flipped the phone around to show Elias the image.

“Ah, yes. Detective Sessions. The other reason I’m here.” Elias nodded. “He has news about the preliminary findings relating

to Richmond’s death.”

“Funny how you forgot to mention that interesting tidbit before now.”

“I did say that I consider myself your attorney, and you will need an attorney for the next few minutes. So, since I’m here...”

Elias ended his speech with a shrug.

Asshole. “Why exactly do I need your services this fine morning?”

“They believe Richmond’s death was not due to an accidental fall. It looks more like he was hit with something first.” Elias’s

stare grew more intense. “Possibly a bat.”