Part 21 (1/2)
”I told Mrs. Bayfield-Farris I'd give her a heads-up.”
”A heads-up? What's that supposed to mean?”
”She knew a report existed, but she didn't give it much thought until Kevin came to collect on her secret. She had our report, but not Wheat Ridge's. She asked me to tell her what was on the tape...so she'd have some time to prepare before it became public domain.”
”Public domain?”
”So to speak.”
”It hasn't made the news so far. These people give new meaning to the expression low profile. What's to prepare?”
”Herself!”
Rae saw Veronica lose her composure for the first...no, the second time. The first being their confrontation over Justin's parentage.
”You saw the tape, Rae. You heard Mrs. La.s.siter tras.h.i.+ng her mother. How would you like to be in Mrs. Farris's shoes, watching her most intimate secrets hung out for public viewing?”
”What if it wasn't her first viewing either?”
”You think Sergeant Wehr was doing a little blackmail on the side?” Veronica's mane ruffled with her head-shake. ”I can't believe you. I'm going to remind you again, you've got no reason--”
”Yes I have. A million or so.” Rae's internal calculator had kicked in and began clicking off decimals.
”What are you talking about? You're a mother. You should have some feeling for the woman.”
”I do. For the woman who was murdered. Maybe by her own greedy relatives. Maybe by her own mother.”
”Make some sense.”
”The GST tax on Jerome Bayfield's estate has got to be a whopper.”
”I have no idea--”
”Generation skipping transfer tax. Jerome Bayfield's bequest to Deidre and her children skipped her mother, Morgan.”
”What do you mean, skipped her mother? Morgan Farris got a substantial--”
”Right, but as I recall from the probate file, Deidre's Trust was equal to Morgan's. It didn't feed from Morgan's.”
Now Rae had Veronica's full attention. ”But Jerome was Morgan's grandfather. That means--”
”Morgan's mother was already dead. Generation-skipping only applies to living generations skipped.”
”Will you stop interrupting me.” Veronica's expression had taken on some worry lines. ”Let's see if I've got this right. Because Mrs. La.s.siter was the daughter, not the sister of Morgan Bayfield, a generation was skipped when Jerome Bayfield willed something directly to her.”
”You got it.”
”And there's a tax attached to that skipping.”
”I've seen the numbers in the probate inventory, as well as the will. Morgan's and Deidre's trusts were funded approximately equally. There's a lousy little one and a half mil exemption.”
”Little? Since when is one and a half million little?”
”In this estate, trust me, it's peanuts.”
Veronica sank slowly into her chair and stared at nothing. ”She seemed so vulnerable.”
”The mother from h.e.l.l?”
Veronica nodded slowly. ”Her embarra.s.sment could very well be overshadowed by her greed.” Then her mouth gaped, as if she'd thought of something else. ”What if she knowingly signed doc.u.ments...tax returns?”
Light bulb in Rae's head. ”Now it makes sense why she didn't want to be P/R of Deidre's estate. Possibly, Danny's the only one who didn't know the true relations.h.i.+p between Deidre and Morgan.”
”That must be what Wehr meant by relations.h.i.+ps affecting the estate. I think she was just guessing, but I never would have picked up on its having a monetary consequence.” Veronica's tone was hushed, apologetic.
”That's why you hired me.”
Over a week had pa.s.sed since Rae had spoken with Danny La.s.siter. Not that she wasn't concerned about his health. It just seemed awkward now that she was employed by the Lakewood Police Department. What would have been ordinary conversation between them was now off-limits.
She struggled with a p.r.i.c.kling curiosity to know if Danny was aware of Deidre's true parentage. No way could she ask him without leaking information. How would he react to the knowledge? Not her call to find out.
Rae's intention, upon leaving Veronica's office, had been to return to her own and come up with some sort of estimate of the GST tax due as a result of Deidre's being a great-granddaughter rather than a granddaughter. But the thought of Danny wouldn't leave her alone. Instead of continuing north on Wadsworth, she made an abrupt turn, heading west past Crown Hill Cemetery and the lush green surrounding the lakes of Crown Hill Park. Danny's house was only a few minutes out of her way. Couldn't hurt. If she kept her mouth shut about the tape she'd just seen.
A dark sky, clotted with rain clouds, menaced the western horizon. Rae remembered the forecast had been for afternoon rains-much needed as the wildfire season approached. But all the rain in the world could be sucked up in the dryness of a Colorado summer. A parched land, just waiting for a stray bolt of lightning-or a careless smoker. The front range was a tinderbox. Dry twigs. Voices like dry twigs. Where had she...
Rae almost missed the turn onto Danny's street. G.o.d, she hoped he'd had the sense to chuck the smoking habit once and for all. Since the heart attack, his life might depend on it.
Then she thought she'd turned down the wrong street. The lake was there, blue-green waters writhing in a swell of wind. But the house that sat where Danny's had was surely not the one she'd last visited when bringing him home from the hospital.
It had no roof! Where the roof had been, a black plastic tarp surged in the restless air. But, there was the dumpster to the east of the driveway.
As she tried to a.s.similate all the changes that had transformed the house, a horn honked behind her. She glanced into her rear-view and saw Danny's old truck. Danny, in the driver's seat, waved at her. She pulled to the side of the road and allowed him to enter the circular drive ahead of her. Then she followed and parked beside a bank of tiered planters, fresh with blooming annuals. Why had he done landscaping before putting a roof on the house?
He grinned as he hurried toward her. Still a little pale, he exuded an enthusiasm that she hadn't seen in him for quite a while.
”Well, what do you think? No more mausoleum.” Danny wore a pleased-with-himself chessy cat expression.
Rae couldn't help but smile back. ”Didn't you forget something, Danny?”
A look of genuine puzzlement crossed his face.
”It's got no roof.”
”But that's the best part.” He nodded toward another truck parked along side the garage, and Rae recognized Pat Keech's logo on its side.
As she exited her car, the sound of hammering pummeled her ears, coming from somewhere on the far side of the property.
”We're doing a pop-top. Lots of gla.s.s. Solar panels. n.o.body in this house is going to be hiding from the sun.”