Chapter 9: What Chandler Said

Malcolm took the envelope out of the lawyer's hand and didn't open it.

"The walnut box was left to Gillian by name, in her mother's will," he said.

"It's on file, and I have a copy in my car."

"That's a family matter," the lawyer said.

"Then your client can explain it to a judge," Malcolm said.

"I'll bring the will, and he can bring the lost ring he gave to his other daughter."

Lydia put her left hand behind her back.

It was too late.

Fifteen tourists had seen it, and three of them had filmed it.

The lawyer's face tightened, and he looked at Chandler.

Chandler looked at me, and for a moment he seemed to be somewhere else.

"Fine," the lawyer said. "The notice stands. Miss Whitman leaves the property today."

"I was going to," I said.

We walked back up the hill to get our things, and I did not look back at my sister.

The cottage was cold when we reached it.

I stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at the bed.

Malcolm put a hand on the small of my back.

"I'm not going to kiss you in a cottage you're being thrown out of," he said.

"But I'm thinking about it."

I laughed, and it didn't hurt as much as I thought.

We drove back to Sausalito with the walnut box between us.

I slept for most of it.

When I woke up it was dark, and Malcolm had parked outside a small harbor bar with a blue neon sign.

"You said you wanted a drink," he said.

"I said I wanted ten."

"Start with one."

The bar was half empty, with a pool table and a bartender polishing glasses.

I sat on a stool, and Malcolm took a table in the corner with his back to the wall.

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