Page 19 of Single Mom’s Undoing (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems #1)

CLARA

“ I t took a while, but I’m here,” Patrick says as he welcomes me into his small office on the north side of town.

I give him a soft smile and take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. “Better late than never,” I reply. “Thank you for making the time, Mr. Flannery.”

“Please, call me Pat.”

“Okay, Pat.”

Patrick Flannery was my brother’s lawyer, among other things. Pat is, in fact, a lot of different things to a lot of different people. Rumor has it he came to Blackthorn Falls after he fled New York City, where he used to be an attorney for the mob.

My phone pings. It’s a photo of Matty from Jodie. She’s taking him to daycare while I deal with my brother’s lawyer.

“How is your boy?” Pat asks .

“How did you know?” I respond, showing him the photo on my phone.

“Your face lights up. I think it’s a mom thing. My wife used to do the same when Lacey, our daughter, was little. It’s sweet.”

“He’s good, for the most part. He just really needs this surgery.”

“Right,” Pat nods slowly and takes a folder out from his desk drawer.

His office is small and quaint; every shelf is loaded with binders and law books.

“As you know, Stephan made arrangements for you once you turned twenty-five,” he says. “I spoke to him about it many times before he passed, and he was adamant that it be kept from you until now.”

“I understand that.”

“He was going to give you this money either way, Clara. Once you turned twenty-five, I had clear instructions to gather the funds and transfer them into a bank account of your choosing,” he says. “Stephan was a good man.”

“He was,” I reply, lowering my gaze. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.”

“The only issue is that it will take a few more weeks to get the money together.”

I give Pat a troubled look. “Why?”

Every second I spend here brings me closer to a collision with Bill Lockwood.

At least, if I get the money, I can bolt when I need to.

It’s the last thing I want to do, but I need to be ready to do it, nonetheless.

Jace knows the truth about what happened that night, and while he did promise to keep it between us, I understand that it’s only a matter of time before he’s compelled to tell Carter and Damon about it.

“Because Stephan wanted the money invested in several ventures so it would grow over time,” Pat replies.

“He was wise to pick safer investment channels, nothing high risk: properties, gold, several stable companies listed in the stock market that made some smart political statements, ultimately doubling and even tripling their share prices. Ultimately, Stephan did the right thing. The original sum for your trust fund was supposed to be $150,000.”

“And how much is it now?”

“About $250,000.”

I gasp, my jaw dropping. “That will cover Matty’s surgery and hospitalization costs, for sure, assuming there are no complications.”

“You’ll need to be here to sign the papers once I have the funds pulled and ready to transfer,” Pat says.

“I also have the ownership papers filed for Stephan’s cabin,” he says, handing me a separate document.

“I know it’s been your home since he passed, but now you’re also the official owner; the same goes for his truck. ”

“It’s still there in his garage.” I sigh as I stare at the property deed for a moment. “I can’t bring myself to even start the engine, but Jodie says Carter and the guys took good care of the truck, too.”

Pat nods and smiles again. “They’ve been keeping me apprised of everything. They were true friends to Stephan; I’ll give them that. In my line of business, those are hard to come by. ”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“There is something else,” Pat says.

I look up and notice the glum look on his face. My heart drops. “What?”

“Your brother kept a storage unit just outside of town. I didn’t even know about it until I got back and went through the trust fund dossier and found a key hidden in the folder’s pocket,” Pat replies.

“I think Stephan stashed the key when he signed the paperwork, probably knowing I wouldn’t find it right away.

It took me a while to figure out what it was to. ”

“Do you still have it?” I ask, a sense of urgency quick to come over me.

He nods. “I thought I’d spare you the trouble of checking that storage unit yourself.

I have power of attorney, so I went over there and closed his account, retrieving everything he kept in that unit,” he says, then gestures at a black box on a nearby coffee table.

“Everything Stephan had in that unit is in that box. It’s yours, Clara.

I hope it gives you some peace, at least.”

Slowly, I get up from my seat and go over to the box, my curiosity swiftly getting the better of me. With trembling hands, I remove the lid and take a moment to analyze the contents.

Tears spring to my eyes as I take out an old baseball mitt.

“We used to play catch when I was growing up.”

“There’s also a log of when each item was brought in. Stephan kept remarkably detailed records. The mitt and a few other personal objects were brought in a few days before he passed,” Pat sighs deeply. “I think he knew what he was going to do.”

“He didn’t,” I brusquely reply, giving him a hard look.

“My apologies, Clara, I didn’t mean to pull at the scab of an old wound.”

“It’s not that. It’s…there’s a lot more to the story than you know. It’s okay,” I mutter and rifle through the box until I find a thick stack of Polaroid photos tied up in twine, photos of him and Margot mostly, with dates and details on the back. “Oh, shit.”

“What is it?” Pat asks, quick to pick up the graveness in my tone.

I think about it for a moment before I answer.

I’m tempted to be brave and to tell Stephan’s lawyer about what really happened.

But I now have a trust fund to access and a son to protect.

Right now is the worst possible moment to make a move against the man who drove me out of town after Stephan was killed.

Besides, I’m not sure I can even fully trust Pat.

Bill Lockwood has a habit of buying off people who could be a hindrance to his affairs. He ultimately bought me, too, in the end. My stomach tightens as I put the photos and the mitt back in the box, placing the lid firmly on top.

“Never mind,” I say, shaking my head.

“I assume you’re referring to those photos of him and Margot,” he scoffs and leans back into his seat. “Don’t worry, Clara. Attorney-client privilege extends beyond the client’s death, as far as I’m concerned. I didn’t tell anyone about what I found in that storage unit. ”

I stare at him for a long second. “So you knew about the affair.”

“I knew about a lot of things, Clara,” he grimly replies. “You should focus on Matty and that money for his surgery, then get out of town.”

My blood runs cold. I recognize that tone. That subtle unspoken warning. I didn’t notice it before because Pat and I hadn’t spoken face-to-face yet, only over the phone and via email. Now that I’m here, it all hits differently.

“What are you trying to tell me, Pat?” I ask, my voice trembling.

“I’ve stayed out of this for the past five years, Clara, and I’d like to keep it that way,” he replies, his gaze never leaving mine.

“For your safety, for Matty’s safety, all I can do is advise you to be careful.

Do what you will with what else you find in that box but wait until the trust money clears and Matty gets his surgery before you do anything. ”

And then it hits me.

Pat knows. Maybe Bill Lockwood paid him a visit, too. But Stephan’s lawyer is doing his damnedest to make sure I get what Stephan wanted me to get, with a little more on top, without anyone else finding out, at least until the time is right.

I point at the box. “I presume nobody else knows about this.”

“Nobody.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you again when the funds are ready. Wait for my call,” he says .

By the time I get home and go through the box more thoroughly, I understand precisely what Pat meant.

It’s not just photos of Stephan and Margot that were kept secret.

There are recordings, both video and audio, hidden on two of Stephan’s old phones.

Email printouts. Receipts for places they must’ve been together, evidence of an affair going back years.

Stephan kept all of it for a reason, and it breaks my heart that there was so much distrust between him and Margot.

The only woman my brother ever truly loved.

The next day, I head over to the Blackthorn Falls Cemetery, where Stephan is buried. It’s a quiet place, lush with greenery and neatly trimmed flowering bushes. Were it not for the thousands of grey stone and marble tombstones, I’d mistake it for a lovely park.

Under the sun’s warmth, I make my way up the alley, making a tight left turn at the blossoming magnolia tree.

It’s eighty years old, and Stephan and I carved our initials into its bark shortly after our parents’ funeral.

There’s a bench nearby, and I settle Matty there with his iPad so I can visit with my family for a few moments.

I find Stephan’s final resting place covered with daisies, his tombstone next to Mom and Dad’s. For a moment, seeing their names together like this breaks me. I fall to my knees and begin to cry.

“What did you get yourself into, Stephan?” I ask. “You had so much life ahead of you, another woman to fall madly in love with someday. Why’d you have to get yourself killed like that? You left me on my own when I needed you the most.”

It’s not fair of me to say, but I say it, because it’s how I feel.

His absence hurts too much. I made my choices and I’ve been living with them ever since. It doesn’t make the pain go away, though.

“What are you doing here?” Margot’s voice cuts through the hush of the cemetery.