Slow Burn

Chapter Forty-three

Kate sat in the captain's office. Kline was on one side of her, Dylan was on the other, and she was being questioned by everyone but the mayor.

How had she known which wire to cut? He'd told her. Who? The Florist. How had she known a bullet to the basket wouldn't force the explosion? Simple. She'd dismantled it. She'd cut the blue wire, then carefully removed the bottom panel and placed it in the drawer of the desk. Why had she done that? He had said it needed to be taken out. She didn't know why.

They wanted her to remember every word The Florist had said to her. First one law officer and then another asked her to start from the beginning. She repeated the phone conversation at least five times, but she still never lost her patience.

Dylan was amazed by how calm she was. She seemed to be taking it all in stride.

Had she tried to get out of the library? Of course she had, but she couldn't get the door unlocked. She'd tried kicking it in, but the wood was solid and wouldn't give. She thought about going out the window and getting away before the bomb detonated, but she knew she would be unable to lift Ewan up and over the windowsill.

He weighed at least one hundred and eighty pounds. She couldn't have carried him to safety, and trying to drag him would have been impossible.

Time was critical. Kate felt she had no choice. She had to take the basket apart.

They all knew she'd had a choice. She could have run, saved herself, and the fact that she didn't consider leaving Ewan behind spoke volumes about her character.

Dylan was with her the entire time, trying to keep the questions to a minimum. Once he felt the police and the FBI had all the information they would need, he called an end to the interrogation and got her out of there.

Kate was grateful for the rescue. Her day thus far had been horrendous… and it wasn't over yet.

At exactly seven o'clock, Kate and Dylan walked into the law offices of Smith and Wesson. For the next two hours, Kate politely listened to Compton's smug and condescending advisors and accountants give their reports. Dylan sat next to her with his arms folded, remaining silent while taking it all in.

The attitude of the men, dressed in their dark suits, white shirts, and conservative ties, was puzzling. They behaved as though the money belonged to them collectively, and they were simply humoring Kate by telling her what they had done in the past and what they would be doing-with her inheritance-in the future. There were forms they wanted her to sign, giving them permission to continue their financial guardianship, but all of them assured her she would receive annual reports that would keep her apprised.

After they had finished boasting, they witnessed as she signed the papers Anderson had prepared, formally accepting the inheritance. Once the transaction was complete, the attorney announced that there were no more stipulations, and all of Compton's wishes had been fulfilled.

The men began to gather their things in preparation to leave, but Kate motioned for them to stay seated as she rose to address them. First, she graciously thanked them for their work and their dedication, and then she told them that their services were no longer needed.

Nearly every chin in the room dropped.

Anderson maintained his composure, although he looked like he wanted to cheer.

One of the advisors jumped to his feet. "What will you do with all that money?"

Another stood and protested, "Compton doesn't want you to squander his life's accumulation, and I'm-rather, we-are concerned with your lack of experience in the financial arena-won't you be doing exactly that? Squandering it?"

Anderson put his hand up when the advisors all began to talk at once. "What Miss MacKenna chooses to do with her inheritance is no longer your concern. You may send your final bills to this office, and I will review them."

In desperation, one of the men turned to Dylan. "Surely you know what a mistake this is. Talk to her," he demanded.

His arms still crossed, Dylan leaned back in his chair and, with an amused smile, he simply shrugged.

The angry man's face turned the color of the red stripes on his tie. "But does she have any idea what she will do with-?"

"Yes," Kate interrupted. "I do know." She gathered up the papers spread out on the table as she explained. "I'm giving it away."

"All of it?" he asked incredulously.

"But… but…" another man sputtered.

"Who are you giving it to?" a third man asked. He looked positively ill.

"I have several ideas," she answered. "And I will discuss them with my sisters before a final decision is made, but I'm leaning toward a research facility. My mother died of a terrible disease," she said. "I'm also considering a new cancer wing for the hospital in Silver Springs. However," she added, "I do know this. Whatever the money is used for will have my mother's name on it. Leah MacKenna."

They looked horrified.

"Compton will roll over in his grave," sniffed the man with the red-striped tie. "He didn't even consider her a part of his family."

Kate headed for the door, but she turned at the last comment. She thought for a second before answering. "Thank you. What a lovely thing to say."