“Of course. Now I remember.” She smiled as prettily as she could. He was not fooled.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much good news,” he began.
She felt that tension in her stomach again and held her breath.
“Your ex-husband left only his personal effects. Clothing, furniture, linens, pots and pans, et cetera.”
Nikki stared into his unblinking gray eyes, vaguely aware that her mouth hung open as she tried to understand. “Only?” she finally said.
“Unfortunately.” He folded his hands primly. His deadpan expression did not convey any sympathy.
“But…The house, the car, the insurance…?”
“The house, of which you are co-owner, was mortgaged to more than one hundred percent of its value, the car is leased, the insurance canceled.”
“That’s impossible,” she said, a little laugh escaping her as though this were all just a big, nasty joke.
“I wish it were, Nicole.”
“When the house is sold, he owes me half the equity—it’s part of our divorce agreement! And the firm he worked for required the insurance policy!”
“The firm is the beneficiary of one policy, for which it paid the premium. Drake let his personal policy lapse. And papers on file indicate you signed refinancing agreements.”
“Not for more than one hundred per cent of the value of—” When she realized she was coming out of her chair, she slowly lowered herself again. Yes, she had signed refinancing papers, and there was something about an equity line of credit while the interest rates were so low and the stock market down. But the refinancing was only for the balance of the mortgage. Had he…? Of course, you dolt! Drake had either altered the amount on the papers or forged her signature. “He must have changed the numbers…or forged my signature.”
Richard Studbeck shrugged. “It’s going to be impossible to indict or prosecute him.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute! He didn’t have planes or boats or beautiful women. He rarely traveled, rarely vacationed. I think I remember he spent a weekend in Las Vegas a couple of years ago, but that was before—” She swallowed hard. “I paid child support! It was supposed to be going into a trust for education! What the hell did he do with all the money?”
The lawyer paused at length before responding. “I’m afraid I have absolutely no idea.”
Nothing. He left the kids nothing.
Nikki went home in a daze. How was she to tell them? Did she have to tell them? Maybe there was some mistake. Maybe when she could finally bring herself to go through Drake’s personal effects and private papers, she would find a safe deposit box or secret stash somewhere. But no, she thought—it was more likely she would find he had given everything to a shelter for homeless cats, giving Nikki the shaft one last time from the grave. Wham! Take that, Nick!
Although she knew it wasn’t justified, Nikki felt tempted to direct her anger at Opal. After all, her mother had had far more faith in Drake than in her own daughter.
Once Opal had married Mayer Gould, a neurosurgeon, and moved to San Francisco, Nikki had only seen her mother on her rare and brief visits to Phoenix. But after Nikki married Drake and moved into the big house in the gated community, Opal had visited more often. And in the last couple of years, since Mayer’s death, Opal was constantly turning up, ostensibly visiting her grandchildren, but Nikki thought it just as likely she was visiting Drake.
And Drake, who couldn’t get along with anyone, had allowed this. According to April, Opal fussed over him, constantly praising everything he said or did. It was as though she had finally found someone who cared as much about money and style as she did, and Drake had found a mother to worship him. Nikki hadn’t cared a whit about that at the time, grateful not to have to deal with her mother herself. And Opal was good with the kids, probably because she was just about as mature.
But now Nikki had to get her life back together, which would be hard enough without Opal questioning every decision she made. Her mother would have to go.
When she got back to the house, Nikki found Opal in the living room, cradling Precious and a magazine on her lap, her two-hundred-dollar shoes kicked off and her slim, pedicured feet up on the ottoman.
Nikki ignored the poodle’s welcoming growl and sat down on the sofa opposite her. “Mother, I’m afraid you’re going to have to go home and let me have some time alone with the kids.”
“What?” she said, straightening.
“I know you’d like to stay, Mother, but we really need some time alone.”
“But won’t you be going back to work? I assumed I’d simply…”
Nikki shook her head. “I have a week off, then a couple of trips. The kids can stay with Buck, like they always have. They have bedrooms there. That’s where I’ve lived the past four years.”
Opal made a derisive sound, as though Buck’s place was beneath them.
“I have to go through Drake’s things, Mother, and I need privacy for that. You can visit again when our life is more organized, and stay as long as you like.”
“I think April and Jared would like me to be here now,” she argued. “And who knows how much time I actually have. I’m not getting any younger, you know. The last time I saw the doctor, he was concerned about a few things.”
By sheer dint of will, Nikki kept from rolling her eyes. Her mother had been suggesting her impending death since she was in her thirties. “You seem very well. I’m sure you’ll be around for many years to come.”
“Don’t be too sure. Carolyn Johanson was three years younger than me, never had a sick day in her life, and—”
Nikki cut her off, unwilling to go down that path again. “I want the kids and I to make decisions about our life without any outside influence.” Like whether we stay in this house or not, she thought, but didn’t dare say that. Opal loved Drake’s house. “I’ll buy you a first-class upgrade to go with your pass,” she bribed.
“Well…”
“And I don’t want you to make this hard on the kids by complaining that I’m sending you away.”
“Well, if the shoe—”
Nikki set her lips in a firm line and shook her head, brooking no argument. Opal traveled free on Aries Airlines at the courtesy of Nikki, a privilege that could be rescinded by Nikki at any time she chose. “Let’s not make things any tougher on the kids than they already are. I’m sure you didn’t bring enough luggage for a long visit, anyway.”
“I did come rather quickly.”
“You don’t want to stick around and bake in this desert heat when you have a lovely home in California.”
“I’ve never minded the heat—”
“And
