Page 33 of Just for Tonight

“It is?” Her relief is palpable.

“It is. I remember it being a special kind of hell the last time Grace and the boys came to stay, and that was over twenty years ago. I don’t blame you for wanting to delay the pleasure.”

“Oh Jake!” She says this as if I’m some kind of hero, but it’s just common sense. She’s my father’s nearest and dearest. The funeral plans are totally up to her. Later works better for me than sooner.

The atmosphere in the house eases slightly once Candace is relieved. I can live with that and I get a lot done after she leaves the study to start planning the celebration of life.

I do manage to find a key to my father’s study, although there’s no telling whether anyone else has one, as well. I lock up when I finally leave, and like the click of the key in the lock.

That’s the sound of freedom.

I wish I could shower and change, even shave again, but this morning, I wasn’t planning to go from here to dinner. I wash up in the guest bath, run a hand through my hair and straighten my tie, then assess my reflection. Less than optimal, but I’ll have to do.

I won’t fall asleep this time, that’s for sure.

I still haven’t found any money, but Mackenzie’s payment for the parcel of land will cover this month’s credit card bills at least. I’m counting that as a win. I’m thinking also about Luke’s offer and its implications, but am not sure I can sell more property so quickly. I’ll have to talk to Richard Bradshaw about that.

Tomorrow will be hell, but I’ll escape back to Toronto in the afternoon. If Mackenzie crooks her little finger at me tonight, my luck could finally change. My life could settle back on track.

I step out of the bathroom to find Madison waiting for me, arms crossed over her chest and fire in her eyes.

“I didn’t take that long in the bathroom,” I say. “And there are four more.”

Possibly five.

Her lips tighten. “I need my credit cards back.”

“Sorry. There was a tragic incident with the shredder.” This is not true. They are knotted into a bag with the plastic of everyone else in this household, out of harm’s way, in the trunk of my car. They’re destined for a visit to my shredder when I get home, so the details of timing are irrelevant.

“What?” She is – big surprise – outraged. “You can’t do that!”

“I just did.” I check my watch pointedly then head for the front door.

“But Jake, I need my cards.”

“No, you don’t.” She opens her mouth to argue and I continue. “Every single one of them will be declined, starting today. I’m cancelling them.”

Her eyes blaze. “You…”

I interrupt her because it’s obvious what she’s going to say. “There is no money, Madison. And because there is no cash, there can be no more bills. There’s no way to pay them.”

Of course, I’m planning to find a way to keep them all solvent, but I’m late and I’m not going to make promises that I’m not sure can be kept. I’d rather shut Madison down now, then offer her a good surprise later, if that can be managed.

I remain skeptical that it can be done.

“You’re lying,” she says.

That annoys me, which means I become eloquent. “Why would I lie? Do you think I want to spend more time than is absolutely necessary here, sorting all of this out? There is no money. That complicates my duties as executor, a lot. If you know where our father kept his secret stash, I’m all ears. I’ll pay the bills and cut the balance loose, just the way he intended, but until I find some money, there’s only debt.” I shrug. “Not much of a legacy.”

She has paled. “No money? None?”

“Not so far and not in any of the obvious places.”

Madison looks around, shaken, as if hopeful that hundred-dollar bills will start falling from the ceiling. “But what does that mean?”

“It means you can’t have your credit cards back. Goodnight.” I turn and walk out the door, leaving her gaping after me like a fish tossed on dry land. It’s not her look.

I don’t care.