Chapter Fourteen
I sat on my couch, ready for work, but not ready to go to work. I stared at the business card. I was afraid to call. I didn’t know what I would be told and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Did Matthew’s family know about this lawyer? Better yet, why didn’t I? I thought by finding out Matthew’s message to me everything would be solved, all the questions would be answered. But it just brought more questions, more feelings of confusion.
I’d promised Chaz I’d call, and I knew he would badger me until I did. Rather than deal with his harassing, I dialed the phone number on the business card below the name.
A nasal-toned, female voice answered with the standard business greeting. “Good morning, Harris Brentworth O’Brian’s office. This is Joan. May I help you?”
“I don’t know,” I stammered, not knowing how to start or explain this bizarre chain of events. “My name is Quinn O’Reilly—”
Before I could continue, the secretary jumped in. “Could you hold on a minute please?”
She didn’t wait for me to reply. The phone went silent. I waited several minutes for her to return and was about to hang up when I heard a man’s voice.
“Hello Ms. O’Reilly. This is Harris Brentworth O’Brian.”
“Hi. Mr. O’Brian, I’m not sure why I’m calling and this may sound strange, but—”
“He’s gone, isn’t he?”
“Excuse me?” The question took me by surprise.
“You’re Quinn O’Reilly. Matthew’s partner.”
“Uh, yes.” I was getting used to my head swirling from strange events being thrown at me.
“He told me you might be calling. He said that if you did, he was gone.”
My head spun like a drunk whose brain was too foggy from the large amounts of brew that kept you from comprehending much of anything. Did he say Matthew told him I would call? Did Matthew know he was dying? “Mr. O’Brian, I don’t understand.”
“Call me Harris.”
“Okay.”
“Ms. O’Reilly.”
“Please call me Quinn.”
“Quinn. I think you need to come to my office so I can explain everything. Are you free today? I have an opening at ten o’clock.”
“Okay.”
“My office is at 90 Berkely Street. I’ll see you at ten.”
“Okay. Thank you Mr. O’Brian.”
“Harris.”
“Harris.”
“Good-bye, Quinn.”
I immediately dialed Chaz’s number. “Hello darlin’. Where are you? Did you call?”
“I did, and you have to close up shop so you can go with me to meet this lawyer at ten o’clock.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing other than he wants to talk to me in person. Will you come?”
“Of course. I’ll close up and be right over.”
I ended the call on my cell phone and walked over to the dining room table where I left the locket after the séance. Matthew was smiling up at me. I picked it up and held it close to my heart as I cried. “I miss you so,” I whispered.