Free Deadly Offer by Vicki Doudera

looking man by his side.
    “Darby, this is Edward Martin, Selena’s attorney.” She looked up into the dark eyes of a handsome African American man wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a suit that showed off his athletic physique.
    “I came as soon as I could,” he said in a sonorous voice. “I’m absolutely shocked. Saddened, too. I really liked Selena.”
    “It’s been a rough day for her brothers, but I know they’ll want to meet you.” She motioned for him to follow and threaded her way through the dining room and into the farmhouse’s living room. ET was seated on an armchair, his brother beside him talking quietly to a neighbor.
    She introduced the brothers to Attorney Edward Martin.
    “I’m sorry to come so late,” he said, “but I did bring a copy of your sister’s will. Would you like to know the details now, or should we talk at some point over the weekend?”
    Carlos leaned forward. “I’d like to hear it now.”
    ET shrugged, his face impassive.
    Edward Martin opened a black binder. “It’s very straightforward. She left everything to the two of you.”
    Carlos hung his head, muttering something softly under his breath.
    “Enrique, your sister requested that you, as the eldest, serve as her Executor. In other words, you are legally empowered to make decisions concerning the disposal of her property. In terms of the vineyard, Selena met with me two months ago and we created a trust in which to hold the property. This means things can move along rather quickly, if that’s what you both decide. Enrique, you were also named as the Successor Trustee. That title indicates that you are the point person for the trust.” He paused. “I’ll need to file some paperwork on Monday to make this appointment final, but that shouldn’t be any problem.” He looked from ET to Carlos, a kind look on his face. “You can call me anytime with questions. I just wanted to stop by and tell you how sorry I am.”
    The brothers nodded and Edward Martin handed ET the binder. “I’ll see you both at the funeral. Again, my condolences.”
    Darby saw him to the door and nodded a goodbye. Back in the kitchen, she opened a drawer, found the plastic wrap, and stretched it over the deli meats, thinking about the attorney’s words. Selena Thompson had lived life on her own terms, even as an ailing woman. Thank goodness she had possessed the foresight to draw up not only a will, but a trust. Darby knew from her experience that with a trust in place, ET and Carlos could conduct the sale of Carson Creek in a matter of weeks, if that was what they wanted.
    A slight man with a smooth, shaved head and Michael Contento’s handsome features entered the kitchen carrying a large tray of pesto-coated penne pasta. “May I?” He pointed at the plastic wrap and Darby tore off a generous sheet. Together they covered the platter and placed it in the refrigerator.
    “Tim Contento,” he said, pausing to lick pesto off his fingers before shaking her hand. His brown eyes were framed by thick brown lashes. “You came with Selena’s brothers, right?”
    “I’m Enrique’s friend, Darby Farr. I think I met your mother and father earlier.”
    “Stepmother. Don’t worry. You’re not the only one who’s made that mistake. Even though there are ten years between us, she looks incredibly youthful while I’m getting positively ancient.” He grinned and his tanned face crinkled pleasantly. Just as quickly it clouded over in a frown. “Hey, I’m so sorry about Selena. She was a really great lady.”
    “So I understand. I didn’t get the chance to meet her, but I know her brothers are devastated.”
    “As they should be. Such a sudden thing.” He lowered his voice. “Carlos told me she hadn’t been feeling well.”
    “Did she appear healthy to you?”
    He frowned again and shook his head. “I’m not sure. I hadn’t seen her around in awhile, and when I did she was moving slowly. But certainly none of us knew she was truly ill.”