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“No. There have been no codicils—modifications—to John’s will in nearly a decade.”

That did not seem to offer the reassurance Archie assumed it would.

“Can the will be challenged?” Judith questioned.

That received several startled looks. Mila stared across the room at Judith. “Maybe we should wait to hear the will before you worry about contesting anything, Judith.”

Ms. Madison said, “I’m not going to tell you that you can’t challenge the will. I will tell you that you won’t succeed in breaking it.”

“That remains to be seen,” Arlo said ominously.

Right. In addition to be Desi’s fiancé, Arlo was a lawyer. He was also Priscilla Beckham’s son—and a member of her legal firm. Archie studied him consideringly. Back in the day, Arlo had had as little time for him as Archie had for Beau’s siblings. In the teens and early twenties, a gap of a few years makes more of a difference than it does later on, and Desi and Arlo had alternated between pretending Archie didn’t exist to doing their level best to put him in his place.

Was it significant that John had chosen to leave his legal affairs in the hands of a stranger rather than Priscilla, his childhood friend? Was there a little bit of unconscious sexism at work there? After all, Leo, John’s other closest childhood friend, acted as his financial advisor. As far as Archie could remember, that was the way it had always been, so none of it had to do with Arlo being a member of Priscilla’s law firm.

Ms. Madison looked disdainful. “You’ll have to proceed as you think best, Mr. Beckham. Are there any other questions before we get to the provisions of John’s will?”

She waited politely, but even Judith seemed to have resigned herself to at least hearing out John’s intentions.

Ms. Madison began to read.

Archie listened absently, unobtrusively studying the others from his vantage point in the rear of the room, as the lawyer went briskly through the various provisions of funeral and burial arrangements, small bequests of art or other items to friends, and financial bequests to several charities and the Duke Parapsychology Laboratory.

“Article Two: Specific Bequests.” A hush seemed to fall as Ms. Madison continued more slowly, “To my dearest niece, Desiree Winslow, I bequeath fifty thousand dollars as a lump sum payment, to be paid from my estate promptly following the settlement of any outstanding debts and expenses.”

Desi lowered her head on Arlo’s shoulder and began to cry.

“To my cherished sister, Judith Winslow, I bequeath ten thousand dollars per month for the remainder of her life. These payments shall commence within thirty days following my demise and shall be disbursed monthly thereafter.”

Judith gasped.

Archie assumed that was relief—ten thousand dollars sounded awfully generous—but Judith’s expression didn’t seem as delighted as he’d have expected.

“To my very dear friend and housekeeper, Mrs. Elspeth Simms, I bequeath ten thousand dollars per month for the remainder of her life. These payments shall commence within thirty days following my demise and shall be disbursed monthly thereafter.”

Judith gasped again—as did pretty much everyone else, including Simmy. It was a lot of money, for sure, but Archie knew that John considered Mrs. Simms something closer to a family member than an employee.

Simmy put her hand across her eyes and then sat up very straight.

“To my dear friend, frequent companion, and longtime business partner Mila Monig, I bequeath my entire interest in our medical practice, including all assets and liabilities associated therewith.”

“Oh, my God, John,” Mila said, and burst into tears.

Her son put his arm around her shoulders.

Ms. Madison paused, as though giving everyone a moment to compose themselves.

The room went absolutely silent. So silent, they could hear the tick-tock of the clock on Ms. Madison’s desk. Archie could feel the rising tension, feel it taking shape like a specter materializing in the corner of the room.

Judith stared at the lawyer, and then, as if reading something in Ms. Madison’s perfectly blank face, threw Archie a look of glittering disbelief. She turned back to Ms. Madison.

“No,” she said fiercely. “Absolutely not.”

“Mother,” Desi said in alarm.

Arlo said, “Judith...”

“This is not right!”