stared into the empty fireplace, working his jaw. Dana sat very still and watched him. Her hand trembled, threatening to spill the coffee. She set the mug on the table.
Chris turned toward her. “When did he make this will?”
Dana couldn’t meet his eyes. “The year I was born.” She looked up. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t want you to have the money. He had plenty of time to change it if he’d wanted to.”
“What happens if I decline my share?”
Dana shrugged. “It goes to me. But I don’t want that. He’s your father as much as he is mine.”
He tilted his head. “You came all the way up to Alaska to convince me to take the money, when it’s in your best interest if I don’t?”
“I came to find you.” And to find out what happened between him and Dad nineteen years ago, but she wouldn’t push. Yet. “Also, I wanted to look into some letters the lawyers found in Dad’s safe.”
Chris tightened his hand into a ball. “What kind of letters?”
“From some woman named Ruth. No last name. She claimed Dad owed money. The lawyers aren’t worried. They posted a notice, and if no one has filed a claim within four months, it’s too late. But there was something—I don’t know—desperate in that letter. It sounded sincere to me. Anyway, I thought I’d look into it. I just have to find the son of someone called Roy Petrov.”
He jerked his head toward her. “Who?”
“Roy Petrov. From Fairbanks. Why? Do you recognize the name?”
Chris rose abruptly, pushing the dog away, and walked into the kitchen to set his mug on the counter. “Sorry, but I’m not going to be able to help you. I don’t want anything to do with that money.”
She stood and followed him. “Think it over before you decide.”
“I’m not changing my mind, and I have to go.” He slung his duffel over his shoulder. “Look, Dana, thanks, but no thanks. I appreciate that you came all the way here, and I wish I could spend some time with you, but you should have called first or something. I have people waiting for me. I’m sorry you wasted a trip.”
He started for the door, but after two steps he turned back and looked at her, indecision written on his face. “Where are you staying?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”
“No reservations? You won’t find anything last minute at a reasonable price this time of year.” He sighed and pulled out a key ring from the kitchen drawer. “I’ll tell you what. You came all the way to Alaska—you might as well have a little vacation.” He tossed her the keys. “You can stay here and use my car until you’re ready to go home. It’s in the garage. Take the first bedroom on the left down that hallway. You’ll find clean sheets in the hall closet.” He whistled. The dog jumped up and followed him out the door.
What just happened? Dana ran to the porch and watched Kimmik jump into the truck. Chris climbed in after. She’d found her brother after nineteen years and he was walking out on her? “Where are you going?”
He leaned out the open window as he backed out of the driveway. “Fishing.”
She stood on the porch until his truck turned the corner and disappeared, all her hopes disappearing along with him. Fishing? Really? She thought she’d prepared for all possible outcomes, but this wasn’t one of them. Not for Chris to ignore her like this.
They’d been close once. Chris was the golden boy, honor student, gifted athlete. Their father didn’t spend a lot of time with them, but she used to hear him brag to their neighbors and friends about Chris’s accomplishments. The fact that her GPA was actually higher than Chris’s didn’t seem to register on Dad’s radar. But Chris noticed. He encouraged her to take honors classes, to compete in Math Olympics, to enter the science fair.
She was sixteen when it all fell apart, the summer between Chris’s junior and senior years of college. On Saturday, Chris was his usual cheerful self, putting some things in the attic at Mom’s request. Dana went to a movie with friends that night. On Sunday morning, after some muffled yelling behind the closed doors of Dad’s study, Chris left without saying goodbye. From that day forward, her dad refused to talk about him. It was as though she’d never had a brother.
She wandered into the house and collapsed onto the sofa. What now? Tuck her tail between her legs and go home? She probably should be there, making sure her mother wasn’t in negotiations for the Taj Mahal, but she’d come all the way to Alaska for answers, and she wasn’t going to leave without them.
She would just have to wait for Chris to come back from his fishing trip and try again. Surely, once they sat down and really talked, Chris would understand why she needed to know what happened. He could accept the inheritance, and they could make up and be a family once again.
Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She checked the screen and braced herself. “Hi, Mom.”
“I got a bill for that new étagère I’m having made. Should I send a check?”
Of course she’d be worried about something she was buying. “If the amount looks right, just put it in the basket for Ginny to handle next week.”
“But what if someone else’s check arrives first and I lose my place in line? This is a handcrafted artisanal piece. He only makes so many.”
Considering there was hardly room to walk in her mother’s bedroom now, Dana didn’t see the urgency to acquire another piece of furniture. But if she said so, Mom would explain why this piece was a bargain or one of a kind or some other reason she had to have it. By the time the piece was delivered, she would have forgotten all about it and moved on to her next acquisition.
Her mother had never even learned to write a check until Dad died. Dana taught her how so she would be able to pay the bills, but she was beginning to think that had been a mistake. Mom seemed to delight in it, like a kid with a new toy. However, she wasn’t so eager for a lesson on balancing a checkbook. There was a good reason Dad had doled out Mom’s weekly spending allowance in cash; cash couldn’t be overdrawn.
That’s why Dana hired someone to handle her mother’s bills and checkbook while she was out of town. She would only be gone a week or two, most likely. How much trouble could Mom get into in that amount of time? “If you think it’s important, go ahead. Just make a note for Ginny with the check number and amount.”
“I’ll do that.” Mom’s voice relaxed. “What is it you’re doing again?”
Dana repressed a sigh. “I told you, I was going on a trip to look for Chris.”
“Oh, yes. Did you find him?” Honestly. She asked about the son she hadn’t seen in almost two decades with the same level of interest as asking about a misplaced sock. Dana would suspect senility except Mom wasn’t that old, and Dana could never remember her being any other way. Only things mattered to her, never people.
“I did find him. In Anchorage.”
“Anchorage, Alaska?” This time, some emotion sounded in her voice. It almost sounded like fear. “What are you doing in Alaska?”
“I told you. Chris is here.” Dana stood and paced across the living room.
“Did you talk to him?”
“Briefly. He was on his way out.”
“So he hasn’t agreed to accept the bequest?”
“Not yet. I’ll talk to him again later.”
“I don’t know why you had to go all that way. Isn’t that what we pay the lawyers for?”
“I volunteered. Since I’m not working—”
“Why did you quit, anyway? Doesn’t the business your father built mean anything to you?”
It