He paused dramatically, and Con had the impression that he had been rehearsing this moment for a long time.
“Its terms . . . ?” Con said helpfully. Apparently, she had a line here.
“Allow me to be the first to congratulate you,” the lawyer said grandly. “You are the sole heir of Abigail Stickling. She left you everything.”
Con felt her mouth fall open, and for the life of her, she was unable to close it again.
He seemed to enjoy her silence, mistaking it for delight and shock. After years of work, it probably felt good to be there at the end, the bearer of good news, believing he’d played a part in changing her life so completely. But what the lawyer mistook for happiness was Con realizing the full breadth of her aunt’s intentions. Abigail Stickling hadn’t left everything to her niece; she’d left everything to herself. If everything had gone to plan, it would be Abigail Stickling sitting here in Con’s body with her fortune returned to her and no one the wiser.
“When was this will written?” Con asked.
“Well, Ms. Stickling’s will went through many iterations, but this last version was completed only a few days before . . .” He trailed off, too polite to use the word suicide.
“How long was I the heir?”
The lawyer shifted in his seat and reached for his water. “Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to share that either.”
Con glanced at the fireplace and what lay beyond it. Stopping her aunt’s download might have been premature. Her penance would be never getting the answers to all of her questions. Some of which would torment her until her dying day. Fortunately, depending how you looked at it, that day wasn’t that far away. Con had cost herself the only chance she had at fixing the damage to her download. She hadn’t thought about it in those terms in the heat of the moment, but now found she wasn’t scared. And however and whenever the end came, she wouldn’t be broke when it did.
For the next two hours, she signed and initialed document after document. The lawyer talked the entire time, laying out the breadth of Abigail Stickling’s holdings and the complexities of her diverse portfolio of real estate, stocks, and businesses. Con, who had been poor her entire life, found it overwhelming. Much of the legalese she only understood in general terms, and he recommended hiring a financial adviser.
“You will also want to retain the services of at least one lawyer at your earliest convenience,” he said.
“Are you available, Bill? Or is that one of those conflicts-of-interest deals?”
He seemed taken aback by that. “No, it’s not, and yes, I could be. But perhaps it would be best to look around? One should not make hasty decisions in these matters.”
“No. My aunt trusted you. That’s good enough for me.” Perhaps her logic was twisted, but it was the truth. William Small didn’t know anything about his client’s scheme yet had done everything her aunt had asked of him. Loyally and without question. Even today, under the most bizarre of circumstances, he had followed his client’s wishes to the letter. It was the best audition that Con could imagine.
He smiled. “In that case, it would be my pleasure.”
“Do I have to retain you? Is there something I need to do?”
“You just did,” he answered with a grin. She thought she was going to like him. She’d never had a lawyer before.
“Cool. In that case, I have a couple of things I need you to do right away.”
“Oh?” he said, reaching for a legal pad. “Fire away.”
She described Levi Greer’s situation. With her aunt gone, there was no simple way to clear his name. She told her new lawyer that she wanted the best legal team that money could buy. Bill didn’t see it as a problem. They stood and shook hands.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Of course. Do you need a ride back to Washington?”
“No, I have a car.”
“Good enough,” he said, gathering up his things into his briefcase. “Oh, I almost forgot. A present from your aunt.” He handed her a small rectangular box wrapped in red-and-gold nutcracker paper. He waited, eager to see what was inside the box he’d kept for a year and a half. When Con made no move to open it, he looked disappointed and shook her hand again. “Then I will see you soon. Make an appointment. Come by the offices. In the meantime, I’ll begin assembling a legal team for your review. And we will get right to work on a transfer of personhood. Shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.”
She went out on the porch with him and waited until his car passed out of sight on its way down the mountain. Then she went back inside and unwrapped the package, curious to know what her aunt had given herself. Inside was a simple cardboard box. Inside that was a heavy rectangle of clear polymer with two prongs on each side. It almost looked like a faceplate, but there was nothing engraved on its perfectly smooth surface. Where had she seen that shape before? She remembered the strange indentation below the biometric reader set in to the fireplace. The faceplate was about that size.