He agreed that it might eventually lead to unease, so they considered the alternatives and decided that new guests arriving after midday, as well as any contingencies, be diverted to the hotel, where there were personnel twenty-four/seven.
"And now, the bad news," he said, stirring his coffee. They were at Henry's Café, for the second time. Every day they ate at the Pink Roses, which made life worth living, as Kathy declared just about every time they entered its Victorian flowery wallpapered dining-room, but today Jesse had suggested breaking the monotony. She looked through the window, at the slender poplars that lined the road into the park.
"So the eating out was a maneuver to distract my attention and then drop the bomb?" she asked light-heartedly.
"It is a kind of bomb," he said, maintaining the mood, but not quite.
"Go ahead, please," she encouraged, conscious now that she really wasn't going to like what she was about to hear.
"The will is going to be contested." Silence on her side. Part shock, part I knew this would end up badly. "Mrs. Steel phoned me this morning and told me."
"By Mrs. Sloan's sister?"
"By everyone."
"Except Geneva," Kathy ventured.
"She's the instigator, it seems."