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Story: Grave Secrets
“Now, that we’ve gotten that out of the way, the first order of business is a possible legacy membership.”
“Who might that be?”
“Samantha Rollins.”
“Do you think it’s wise to bring her into the fold? Her father wanted her kept out.”
“Her father is dead.”
“What good could possibly come from inviting another Rollins?”
“Her family go all the way back to the beginning. If she had a brother, I’d suggest him instead, but she doesn’t. She is an only child and without her we’ll lose that legacy line completely.”
“I know why you’re doing this.” Wilhelm Adams banged his cane on the floor beside his chair. “This has to do with those Garrison billionaires. You want them, so you’re using the girl that boy is sweet on to lure him in.”
“How astute you are, Wilhelm. I do indeed hope that by bringing Samantha Rollins in, we might persuade the Garrison brothers to join the fold.”
“They aren’t like us. There is a big difference in old money and new money. They’re only second generation wealthy.”
“True. True. However, each of their wealth individually exceeds the combined wealth of every member around this conference table.”
Heads nodded all around.
Wilhelm leaned forward and slammed an open palm on the table. “I don’t know about you Mason, I think you’re running us into the ground with these radical ideas of yours. Keep things as they’ve always been. We don’t need all this change.”
In that moment, Mason knew with a certainty. Wilhelm Adams had released Vanessa and Emmaline the night of the party. By day’s end, he would pay for his sins. There would be no redemption day for him.
Samanthaonceagainstoodwith her hand on the master bedroom doorknob. Resting her head against the door, she blinked away tears. She could do this. It was past time she faced the reality that Uncle Richard wasn’t coming back. Losing her parents in the plane crash had been crushing, but the questions surrounding her uncle’s disappearance made his loss all the more excruciating. He was her only family. The man who had stepped in to take on the role of father once her own was gone. The love and protection he’d provided knew no bounds. She hadn’t been able to repay it. Despite her best efforts to find out what happened to him that fateful day, she’d failed.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door. Maybe she’d start small and take one bag of clothing to the thrift store. No need to tackle it all in one day. Although maybe the analogy of ripping off a bandage was the right one. Tearing it off with one clean pull would be easier in the long run.
Stopping at the dresser, she took a moment to notice the layer of dust on his bottle of cologne. She lifted it and held it to her chest. It was a slightly sweet yet masculine scent, and she’d missed it. All she wanted was one more hug. A reminder of how much he’d loved her. More than any other person alive. He’d tried to convince her to renew her relationship with the Lord, but she’d refused. They’d fought over it the last time she’d seen him. He’d wanted her to attend Sunday evening service with him. She told him she’d had enough of his God. That if He wanted Sam, he could take her anytime he wanted just like he’d done with her parents.
The look in his eyes reflected the hurt she’d inflicted, but she hadn’t stopped there. No. She’d threatened to leave home if he kept bothering her about church. He’d left for work before she awakened Monday morning. There was nothing about that day she didn’t regret.
She set the cologne down and turned to face the walk-in closet. Ten minutes later, she had all his suits and shirts laid neatly across the foot of the bed. Next, she filled a black trash bag with his shoes. Once that was done, she took stock of the shelves to the one side. A small fireproof box where he kept passports and other important papers sat on one shelf and a larger safe that housed his long guns took up the far end of the closet. Since she didn’t know the combinations, she left them for last. Deciding to tackle a plastic shoe box of memoirs she took it to the bed and began to sort through it. A picture of her parents on their wedding day. Another one of herself the day she was born. Her first hunting trip. Ticket stubs from a movie he’d taken her to see. She hadn’t realized he kept mementos. It was a side of himself, her uncle hadn’t revealed to her.
After setting those items aside to take to her own room, she lifted a small black notebook from the bottom. Looked like dates and initials. She flipped the pages until she reached the back. On the last page there were sets of numbers that could be combinations. Her landline rang, startling her. Saved by the bell. She wouldn’t have to deal with his weapons quite yet.
Chapter Thirty-Two
GavinshowedupatSamantha’s house ten minutes after calling. She opened the door and waved him inside. Her hair was half in and half out of the ponytail she sported, and dust covered the front of her sweatshirt.
“What you working on?”
“Nothing that can’t wait. You said you had something you wanted to tell me?”
“I do.” He smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Can I come in?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not thinking straight. Come on in.”
He followed her into the living room and sat beside her on the couch.
“What did you want to talk about?” She bit her bottom lip.
“Are you nervous?”
“Why would I be?”
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