Page 113 of Hell Hath No Fury

“Yeah.” She was aware her tone was less so.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Itisgood. Nell’s much better today than she was only two days ago. I don’t see any sign of her faking it.”

“But?”

“But what then? For now, she’ll be an in-patient at the facility. Afterward, she’ll be transitioned to a group home. At some point, though, she’ll be out on her own. That scares the hell out of me.”

He remained silent for several long moments. When he finally spoke, he softly said, “You’ll be there for her.”

“Yes, I will.” Her answer left her hanging on a precipice. Yes, she would be there for Nell. But where wasthere?

From Matthias’s tense expression, he was wondering the same thing, but he didn’t ask.

* * *

The next morning, Emma perched on the edge of the bed, tying the laces on her boots, when Matthias’s phone buzzed. He moved to the nightstand, unplugged the device, and picked it up. “It’s Fergusson.” He tapped the screen. “Honeywell.”

Emma listened to Matthias’s side of the conversation.

“Okay… Don’t suppose you know who that might be?” His face was set in stone, giving nothing away. Then his stoic cop mask slipped, registering surprise, before he set it back into place. “I wouldn’t have guessed that, but it does shine a new light on things, doesn’t it?” After a few more moments of listening, his gaze settled on her. “I’ll have to ask. Hold on.” He muted his phone.

“What is it?” Emma asked.

“Fergusson met with Winslow’s attorney. While the business agreement was never updated to name a successor in the case of Winslow’s death, his estate in general all goes to his only living relative. Do you know who that is?”

“I have no idea. I’d never met him before Saturday at the construction site.” When Matthias didn’t say more, she prodded. “Who?”

“Winslow’s immediate family has all passed away. He lists one niece as his sole beneficiary.”

Emma waited impatiently.

“Her name,” Matthias said, “is Frances Goodwin.”

ChapterThirty-Four

Matthias unmuted his phone and told Fergusson, “No, Emma wasn’t aware of the familial connection.”

The trooper grunted.

“Isn’t—” Matthias winced and corrected his tense. “Wasn’t Winslow young to be Fran’s uncle?”

“Yes, but he was the youngest of four. His oldest sister, Fran’s mother, had twelve years on him.”

“Are all the siblings dead?”

“Every last one of them.”

“I wonder if Fran was aware of her inheritance,” Matthias mused.

“Lukan and I are going to do some more digging into her past and her financials. If we come up with enough for a warrant, we’ll make an arrest. If not, we’ll go have a chat with her.”

In the background, Matthias heard raised voices. He recognized the tone. He’d heard the same back at Major Crimes in Erie when a new case or news regarding an old case had come in. The call was quickly muted, preventing him from picking up any shouted details.

A few moments later, Fergusson came back on the line. With a harried voice, he said, “I appreciate your help on this one, Honeywell. Have a safe trip back to Erie.”

With that, the call disconnected. Matthias stuffed the phone in his back pocket.