Rachel Alexander 04 - Lady Vanishes

back at the will. Interestingly enough, no stock package, real estate, or real property was left directly to Venus. She would, however, as trustee, be able to take a percentage of the estate she was managing as a yearly stipend. Whether or not she would, only she knew.
    I got up and erased the note on my blackboard, feeling a pang of guilt as I did. Despite the reminder, I’d neglected to call my aunt Ceil to wish her a happy birthday.
    I made three lists. On the left I wrote the names of people who would profit from Harry’s new will. On that list I wrote one name: Venus White.
    On the right I listed the people who would have gained more had there not been a later will. On that side I wrote: Eli Kagan, Arlene Poole, Bailey Poole, Janice Poole.
    In the middle, under the heading No Change: Samuel Kagan, Nathan Kagan.
    Then I wondered what Samuel would think, sweating away seven days a week at Harbor View and getting not much beyond the satisfaction the work itself gave him. It was, it seemed to me, a job with no future. And Harry’s will did nothing to change that.
    As for Nathan, I wondered if he had any connection to Harbor View at all, or if he’d wisely opted out of Eli and Harry’s folie a deux.
    I wondered how all of them would feel, and when I thought I knew, I went downstairs to give Dashiell one last outing, opening the door to the garden just as the phone rang.
    “Alexander,” I said, very much in the work mode, both wills still in one hand.
    “Did I wake you?”
    “No. I’m up.”
    I walked outside and sat on the steps.
    “I couldn’t stop thinking about your case,” he said. “So, did she tell you who the guy was, the on-line lover?”
    “You bet. It was Harry.”
    “Dietrich? The old man? No kidding.”
    “Pinkie swear.”
    “Incredible, of all the people it could have been. Was that the end of it, when they met, saw who the other was?“
    „No,” I said, thinking about the new will. “They were really in love. It wasn’t over until Harry was killed.“
    “Star-crossed lovers,” he said, my hopeless romantic. “We’re not exactly talking Romeo and Juliet here. These are not teenagers.”
    “He was only seventy-four,” Chip said. “That’s the prime of life for a man.”
    “Oh, please.”
    “Okay, so he was old enough to retire and move to Miami, but still. That doesn’t mean he no longer had feelings, desires.”
    “You’re picturing a little love nest in God’s waiting room? Look, he was short and fat, as ugly as a cheap motel room, and old enough to be her father. All that aside, he was married to someone else when they fell in love. Some Romeo and Juliet.”
    “Meaning the families wouldn’t have been unhappy at the romance?“
    „Oh. That Romeo and Juliet.”
    “Rachel, I would still love you if you were short, fat, and old enough to be my father.”
    There was a pause. He waited for me to comment. I waited for him to continue his adolescent fantasy, get it done and out of the way.
    “You don’t think my heart would have seen beyond a homely-as-a-junkyard-dog visage, that I would have seen and loved the real you underneath?”
    I kept that answer to myself. “That’s not how it was with Venus and Harry. All those hours on-line, they became soul mates. What they saw when they met in the flesh, that wasn’t going to change it. At least, that’s what Venus said. And then there’s this new will—that sure lets me think Harry thought the world of her, both before he met her and afterward.”
    “Don’t tell me.”
    “It’s not what you think.”
    “What do I think?”
    “That Harry left her a bundle.”
    “He didn’t?”
    “Uh-uh. No money. No houses. No cars. Not even a stock portfolio.”
    “Then what?”
    “He left her in control of the trust for Harbor View.” Chip whistled.
    “So she was right,” I said, “She is in hot water. More than she knows, because I’m so mad I could strangle her. Do you believe this? She thinks her life’s in danger, but she neglects to mention the cause.”
    I must have been shouting, because Dashiell came over to see what I was so steamed up about.
    Chip groaned.
    “Sorry,” I said. But ail I could think about was Venus, the way she eked her story out at the gym, that diamond necklace, the one she kept hidden at work, winking at me as she pulled the wool over my eyes. “Damn.”
    “You’re worried about her?”
    “That, too.”
    Then there was a silence. I thought it might be nice if I acted like a normal