Free Death By Sunken Treasure (A Hayden Kent Mystery Book 2) by Kait Carson

Lousy timing on her part.”

Nine

      
    I had at least fifteen other active cases pending, and I needed some quiet time to frame a legal notice about Mike’s will. The constant buzz of voices from the lobby distracted me. The decibel level rose and fell like some angry swarm of bees. My fingers flew over my keyboard as I wrote and discarded a dozen or more attempts. Giving up, I decided to tackle the call to Deputy Diego. Grant had handed me the message slip. It bore little more than the name and number. No help there about why Diego called.
    I rooted through my stack of current files until I found the Estate Information sheet I had started earlier. The sticky note attached to the “Unusual Circumstances” block stared at me like an accusation. When I wrote that, I had no idea there was a second will. A second will that brought with it a new set of unusual circumstances and people who benefited. Monroe County had spoken to Buddy. Would they share their thoughts on the second will? Only one way to find out. I pulled a legal pad toward me, picked up the phone, and dialed.
    Deputy Diego answered on the third ring. Morning must be the busy time at the cop shop bullpen. When I was there, the place was nearly empty, but the stark walls and high ceilings of room had reflected sound, making it noisy. Now the noise level was more like a football stadium after a hometown touchdown. I resisted the urge to shout.
    “This is Hayden Kent, Grant Huffman’s paralegal.” I started wondering if a face-to-face meeting might be a better idea. “I’m returning your call to Grant.” The noise level dropped to a dull buzz so fast my ears hurt. The call must have been on speaker.
    “We haven’t received the ME report yet. Hopefully sometime today.”
    Was that why he called Grant? The caution in his voice suggested otherwise. I sucked in a deep breath and decided I’d better share first. “We filed the will yesterday.” I paused for a beat. “The clerk gave me the other will. The one filed by Buddy Smith.”
    When he asked to call me right back, I thought the conversation was over. Deciding that working on other matters was the best way to break through the fog, I reached for my notes for a new estate-planning client. Before I could open the file, my phone rang. It was a local South Florida 786 area code and a number I didn’t recognize. The voice on the other end belonged to Deputy Diego.
    “You are a witness on one of the wills. What time did he sign it?” He began the conversation by jumping right to the point.
    “Nine sharp…” I let my voice trail off while I decided if I should add anything. “It may not mean anything. But he wanted this will drafted and signed in a huge rush. He came to us on Thursday. We emailed him a draft that evening, and he signed it the next morning at our office.” I paused. “We suggested he wait until Monday, in case he had any revisions.”
    “And he didn’t want to?”
    My fist clenched around the pen I held. “He said he didn’t have much time.”
    A long silence drew out between us. Experience told me I was supposed to fill it in with more detail. A zillion thoughts raced through my head. Except for speculation, I had nothing concrete to offer.
    “Did you ask him what he meant?”
    “No. I offered him an appointment on a different day. I thought at the time that he was in a hurry. He said he was diving his treasure site after he left us.”
    “Alone?”
    “He didn’t say. I thought he meant they were hunting treasure. I know those big boats are expensive, and they have a ton of crew. I figured he was on a timeline. Now, I’m figuring he was alone.” I held back from telling Deputy Diego I had dived the site the day after Mike was found. Except for the doubloons, I hadn’t found anything to report.
    We talked for a few minutes about what plans Grant had to open the estate and how we expected to determine which will was effective. I gave him a bit of insight into how the courts