She sits there studying the floor boards, paying close attention to each plank of wood as it run into next, how the grains blend from one to the other. She finds herself beginning to wonder how long it took the man who laid the planks down, how hard he tried to hide the changes of each plank, and was that his specialty. She’s pulled from the world inside her head as the door opens and a man walks into the room, he clears his throat as she gently wanders her gaze towards him.
“Thank you for waiting Mrs Walters, I’m sorry it took a little longer than I said,” he says as he places a folder on a desk and shuffles into a seat behind it, his face grey, dull, his cheeks withdrawn, his sandy brown hair thinning, she beings to question in her mind how long his doctor must have given him, or if indeed he has made that terrifying move yet, he coughs violently, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the mucus and saliva from his mouth and nose. “Sorry, I just can’t seem to shake this damn cold.”
“That’s okay, and for the last time Rodney, its Gloria, we’ve know each other long enough for the titles to fall away. Now what did you want to see me about in such a hurry?”
His open the folders on the desk and pulls out a piece of paper and slide it across the desk towards her, “Do you know this man?”
“Samuel Dekker, and I didn’t really know him that well, he used to date my Mum, but it’s been years since I’ve seen him, he left town after they split,” she says as she picks up the paper and studies the words written on it. She looks back at Rodney, her face slowly turning pale as the blood runs from it, and her eyes widen. “Is this serious?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“How in the hell can he contest the will? He left a long time ago, Mum never talked about him much after that, he was history, What grounds does he even have?”
“At the time of your mother’s death he was still legally married to her.”
“What, you’re fucking kidding me?”
“I wish I wasn’t, but it is true, and now he’s contesting the will, claiming he has an updated version, one that leaves everything to him.”
“I’m sorry to say it’s true, he’ll be here in two days, I’ve arranged a sitting for Thursday, I suggest, if you don’t have one, you get yourself a lawyer, things could get messy.”
“Is this your way of saying you’re not going to represent me?”
“I can’t Mrs… Gloria, as executor of the will, both will surprisingly, I am unable to help you in your case,” he slides a card across the table. “His name is Thomas Grenada, a brilliant lawyer, expensive, but, his speciality is dealing with probate cases, and his success rate is almost one hundred percent. I suggest you contact him as soon as possible.”
She grabs the card from the desk and launches herself to her feet, “Fuck you!” she says as she storms out of the office and out through the main doors, into the street. Quickly she pulls a mobile phone from her bag, and dials a number, some seconds later a man answers the phone on the other end.
“We’ve got a problem, seems the old bitch was still married to that piece of shit Sam Dekker, and the fucktard is going to jeopardize everything we’ve done up to now, he’s after it all. So you need to get rid of the old son of a bitch before he gets into town, otherwise killing the witch was a waste of fucking time.”