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“I did?”

“And your father participated in the TSP, a federal retirement savings and investment plan. Those accumulated savings also went to you.”

“I see.” Except he didn’t. At all.

“The payouts were relatively modest amounts, of course, but John invested all of those survivor benefits on your behalf, and they’ve grown substantially.”

“Oh. Okay.” Belatedly, Archie asked, “How substantially?”

“Roughly speaking? Three-and-a-half million.”

“I’m sorry?”

Ms. Madison repeated briskly, “About three-and-a-half million dollars.”

Archie said weakly, “That’s nice.”

“It is. It’s very nice. Combined with John’s investments and life insurance, your net worth—including McCabe House and the yacht—is in the area of thirteen million.”

Archie felt lightheaded in a way he hadn’t experienced for several days.

Ms. Madison was gazing at him expectantly.

Archie managed, “Dollars?”

Ms. Madison made a faint sound. Not a laugh exactly, but not a cough either. Then she leaned forward and squeezed his hand. “You had no idea at all, did you? I didn’t realize. Are you all right? Would you like a glass of water?”

“What? No. I’m fine. I just don’t understand.”

Ms. Madison looked as though she didn’t understand what there was to understand. “John was very generous in his many bequests or that number would have been quite a bit higher.”

“Higher?” Archie protested, “I don’t need it to be higher. I don’t need…”

Thirteen million? It was an almost frightening amount of money. Almost? Who was he kidding? It was a frightening amount of money.

People had been killed for less.

A lot less.

“John said you might not be entirely thrilled. Not as thrilled as some people would. But it’s not as though you need to, er, cash out. You can leave the investments to continue to accrue. Mr. Baker will be able to discuss those options with you.”

“Right.”

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “There’s one final thing. It’s a small thing, but it was important to John. He felt it would be important to you.”

Maybe it didn’t make sense, given the last few minutes, but Archie’s overwhelming feeling was one of unease. He’d been thinking the house comprised most of his inheritance. The numbers Ms. Madison had quoted were so far from anything he’d imagined, they seemed fantastical. He was truly alarmed at the idea of anything else.

“I understand that your mother was an artist?”

Archie nodded. “She wasn’t…a big name or anything. She wasn’t known, but she’d had a couple of shows and sold a few paintings.” He said briskly, over the tightness in his throat, “We liked her stuff.”

“Of course you did. And John knew that. Over the years, he attempted to track down her paintings. It became a kind of quest on your behalf. Ultimately, he was able to locate seven of them, which he purchased and put into storage for you.”

So far from anything he’d imagined.

So incredibly kind.

Archie swallowed, nodded. He managed a husky, “That’s… I wish he’d let me know. That was…”