“Yeah, Fabio. Mr. Man. Whose payroll is he on?”

 “Ah, yes. Maude provided for him in the will as well, provided he stays on to tend to the animals. She did love her animals. Used to have more of them, you know, but now it’s just the two horses. And the chickens, of course.”

“Yeah, about those chickens. Who owns them? Do I?”

“Yes.”

“And the horses? Paul and Paula? Are they mine?”

“Yes.”

“So, who does Hank work for?”

“Well, technically Maude.”

“So how exactly is that going to work out long term?” I asked, taking a slow draw on my cherry Coke.

“That’s up to you and Mr. Higgins to figure out.”

“Not helping me here. If they’re my chickens, can I use the eggs? He takes care of them, but they belong to me, so who gets the eggs?”

“Interesting question. I didn’t expect to be debating the chicken versus the egg argument today.” He laughed, and I frowned.

“Glad I could amuse. Do I get the eggs?”

“In my professional opinion?”

“Uh-huh,” I said, then bit into my burger. “Oh mah gaw.”

“Are you all right, Ms. Franklin?”

I nodded, unable to speak through the best burger I’d ever tasted.

I caught John’s eye and waved him over. In the time it took him to get to the table, I ate three more bites.

“What’s up, Viv? Hey, Mr. Montgomery, how are you?”

“Good to see you, John. How’s business?” he asked.

“This burger is so good, it’s stupid,” I burst out. “I thought California was supposed to be full of vegans sprinkling sprouts on everything.”

“That’s at the restaurant across the street. You detox there, you come here when you want real food.”

“I love you,” I said, stroking my burger like a kitten.

“Me or the cheeseburger?”

“I can no longer separate the two.”

“I won’t tell Jessica.” He laughed.

“You two chat about business. I’m eating,” I replied, gesturing between him and Mr. Montgomery. As the two men talked, I demolished my lunch. I could feel my pants stretching, I needed to run tomorrow. As I ate, I listened to the two men talk. Mr. Montgomery really seemed to have his finger on the pulse of everything that went on in this small town. I assumed he lived out of town; his firm was in San Francisco.

When John went back to work, and the burger was nothing more than a memory, I looked at Mr. Montgomery. “How in the world do you know so much about this town?”

“I was born here, and I lived here for years.”

“But isn’t your firm in San Francisco?” I asked, confused.

“It is. And I live there mostly. But I’ve got a house here just outside of town, and while it used to be for vacations, as I get closer to retirement I find myself back here more often.”

“I can certainly see why. The people are great, and the landscape, it’s kind of awesome.”

“The people are great, although I hear you had a run-in with Mr. Barrow?”

 “How in the hell did you hear about that?” I asked, incredulous. Seriously, how did word spread so fast?

“I have ears, Ms. Franklin. And he can be a great help to you, setting up a new life here. No one knows more about this town than he does.”

“He sure likes to remind me of that. But don’t worry, I’ve got some help of my own on the way.”

“That sounds mysterious.” He chuckled. “I do think perhaps you should talk with him again. He really is only concerned with maintaining the integrity of the house—a concern I’m sure you share.”

“I do, of course I do. But does he have to be so . . . so . . . I don’t know . . . librariany about it?”

“Ms. Franklin, are there any other questions you have about the will?” he asked patiently, not without some amusement in his expression.

“Well, yes, actually. There are some issues with the house, issues that Clark seems to think are no big deal. But when there’s rain falling on your head in the middle of the night, they tend to be a big deal to the one with the wet face, you know?”

“I can imagine.” He smiled. “And you’re wanting to get the roof fixed, I’m sure.”

“Well, that’s the thing. If I stay, the house needs a lot of work. And he—”

“You’re concerned that Clark doesn’t want you making any changes to the house, yes?”

“His exact words were, ‘You can’t change a thing in this house without going through me. Go ahead and check with Mr. Montgomery, he’ll tell you the same thing. Not one thing, Vivian,’ and he even pointed at me. So tell me the truth, is he right?”

“It’s complicated, Ms. Franklin,” he began, clasping his hands across the table from me. “Your aunt was a bit eccentric, as I’m sure you are aware.”

I thought of the dolls, the Mathis records, and the tube socks. Eccentric was an interesting choice of words.

“She wasn’t always wise about money, and some years she had trouble keeping up some of the maintenance on the house, as you’ve no doubt noticed. She applied for and was given a grant from the historical society for some basic upkeep. She was able to continue to pay for some things on her own, her basic needs and keeping on some of the animals. She was able to continue to employ Mr. Higgins. But some of the money wasn’t spent in the wisest of ways.”