Chapter 20: The Table

Alden had not slept, and his ribs hurt every time he breathed.

He walked into the Throckmorton boardroom at eight without his cane.

His left leg dragged.

He did not look down at it.

Lucinda went in ahead of him with the green ledger under her arm and the mechanic's brake hose in a clear bag.

The long table was already full.

Nine directors in dark suits sat around it, and the clerk of court sat at the end with a stamped folder.

Gordon sat at the head, in his brother's chair.

Lucinda took the seat on his right.

Alden stood behind her.

There was no chair for him, and he didn't want one.

"Mrs. Ferrars," Gordon said, without looking at him, "this is a private board session."

"Ms. Throckmorton," Lucinda said. "And my husband is staying."

"Ex-husband."

"Staying," Lucinda said.

Alden felt something go through his chest that he didn't have a word for.

Gordon spread his hands to the table.

"Friends. The will my niece relies on was typed after my brother's mind began to go."

He lifted a cream folder.

"This one was signed in his own hand, three weeks before he died. The clerk will certify it."

The clerk of court nodded.

"I move the board accept it as the true will," Gordon said.

"Before you vote," Lucinda said.

She set the ledger on the table, and the bag next to it.

"This is a brake hose from the car my uncle meant me to die in. It was cut with side cutters."

She looked down the table.

"The man who cut it is in a safe house this morning. He has given a sworn statement to the state investigator."

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