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She put her hand on his arm. “I know. This isn’t at all how John planned to handle the situation. He had every intention of speaking to you in person. The letter was to serve as backup in case something unforeseen happened before you made it home again. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened. But I want you to know, John would want you to know, that he had every intention of telling you...certain things in person. He never intended to take the easy way out.”

“Getting murdered isn’t the easy way out.”

“No, of course not.” Behind the red squares of her spectacles, Ms. Madison’s hazel eyes were troubled. “I’m so sorry for, well, all of it, but in particular the terrible things Mrs. Winslow said. I can promise you there’s no breaking this will.”

“I don’t care about the will,” Archie said.” Judith and Desi can have everything as far as I’m concerned. My life is in D.C.”

“Well, no, they can’t.” Ms. Madison was firm. “Not for two years, in any case. There’s a clause attached to your inheritance as well, which bars you from selling or disposing of the house in any way for a full twenty-four months. After that, it’s up to you.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not kidding. John anticipated your initial reaction might be...less than enthusiastic. But he was adamant that you have some kind of safety net for the future.”

Archie couldn’t help a flare of exasperation. “I have a safety net. I have a healthy savings account and, eventually, I’ll have a very decent retirement. I don’t need Judith and Desi’s share—”

“No,” Ms. Madison cut in. “That’s not what this is. I know this is not a comfortable discussion for you—”

“No, it’s not. I don’t want or need any of this.”

“I understand. But John wanted you to understand, well, a number of things. Among them, the fact that John and Judith received equal shares of their parents’ estate. Equal shares in all things financial and sentimental.”

Archie absorbed this in silence. He wasn’t entirely sure what Ms. Madison was getting at, and maybe Ms. Madison could see that in his expression.

“In other words, while Judith—Mrs. Winslow—may feel she has first right to certain family heirlooms and properties, there was never any such belief or agreement on John’s part. He purchased McCabe House thirty years ago. Despite the distant family connection to the McCabes, it was not an inherited property. As for those items that might be considered family heirlooms, Judith already received her share, which she can, in due time, pass on to her daughter and grandchildren. John was free to do the same.”

“But—”

Ms. Madison qualified, “Or leave them to anyone else of his choosing.”

Archie fell silent.

“Mrs. Winslow has her own income from her late husband as well as whatever is left from the money and property she inherited from her parents. Through the years, John chose to help her out financially, but that was not any kind of official arrangement and had nothing to do with anything but his kindness and generosity.”

This was all news to Archie, and he honestly didn’t know what to make of it. He said nothing.

Ms. Madison sighed. “I can see you’re not at all happy about this. And, of course, I can’t tell you how to feel. I can’t even imagine—anyway, I can only suggest that you trust John just a little bit and wait until you have all the facts.”

Did he have a choice? It sure didn’t feel like it.

That thing about avoiding stress and exertion until he was fully recovered from his head injury?

Not so much.

By the time Archie reached his hotel, he wanted nothing more than to lie down. Too much walking, too much talking, too much screaming for a guy on sick leave. He had never been good at pacing himself, and if there had ever been a time he needed to be at full speed, it was now. But despite his best effort to will himself back to one hundred percent, it just wasn’t happening.

Even if he had been back to full speed, he lacked clear direction—something else, he wasn’t used to.

He’d been shut out of the police investigation. That meant he would have to wait until Twinkleton PD released McCabe House before he could retrace John’s steps that final day or reexamine the crime scene or look for the mysterious letter John had allegedly left for him.

His best bet would be to try to talk to the people closest to John—barring Judith and Desi, who, after today, were unlikely to be very forthcoming with him. Granted, they’d been unlikely to be forthcoming with him even before Ms. Madison had dropped her bombshell. But those interviews would have to wait till he had rested and refueled.

In the meantime, he was still trying to digest John’s bewildering legacy.

He was deeply moved by John’s generosity, but also baffled. And a little overwhelmed.

Angry as he was that Judith had dared to accuse him of murder, he knew she was not going to be the only person in Twinkleton to notice he now had a compelling motive for homicide.

And, sure enough, when he walked into the cool gloom of the Fraser House Inn’s lobby, he found Detective Swenson standing at the front desk gabbing away to Scarlett Langham.