Chapter 8: The Trust

I did not say anything.

I walked up behind him and put both arms around his waist.

He flinched, then went still, then leaned back into me.

"I'm here," I said.

"I know," he said. "That's the problem. I keep thinking I'll wake and you won't be."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Say it again."

"I'm not going anywhere, Denton."

His hands closed over mine on his stomach, and we stood there until the wind stopped feeling cold.

He told me it was a nightmare.

That was all he said, and I let him have it.

On Friday morning, his lawyer called at seven.

Denton put him on speaker while I was buttering toast.

"The marriage certificate cleared the county on Tuesday," the lawyer said.

"I've been through your father's will again, Mrs. Kane. I'm sorry it took this long."

"Took what long?"

"There's a trust. Your father left you forty percent of the voting shares of Flynn Freight. They were to be released the day you married."

I set the knife down.

"Margot told me she hadn't seen any shares."

"Mrs. Dray was notified of the trust at the reading of the will," the lawyer said. "I have the signed receipt."

I looked at Denton, who was already reaching for his jacket.

"When's the next board meeting?" I asked.

"Today at ten," the lawyer said. "Mrs. Dray called it last night. She's going to vote herself a larger salary and a new compensation plan."

"Well," I said. "We should be there."

The Flynn Freight headquarters sat beside a rail yard on the south side, a long brick building with the company name in faded red paint.

Trucks idled in the lot.

The drivers I passed on the way in gave me small nods, and one older man took off his cap.

I did not know why until I reached the lobby, where a brass plaque hung on the wall.

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