Eyes by Joanne Fluke Read Free Book Online Page B

belong to you at the back of the office.”
    â€œI . . . I don’t understand!” Connie was so shocked, she hardly knew what to say. “I know Alan made the mortgage payment this month. How could they do that?”
    â€œThat’s what I asked them. They said the condo was in Alan’s name. Now that he’s gone, and he didn’t leave a will, it goes to them.”
    Connie took a deep breath and tried to think. “I guess they’re right. I just don’t know. I never thought about Alan . . . dying.”
    â€œIt’s a dirty shame, but I checked with the lawyer that lives in three seventeen, and he told me there’s nothing you can do. They own the property. You can’t even get in.”
    Connie nodded. It was so much to take in, all at once. “But they left me my things?”
    â€œThat’s just it. They only left your things. I went up there while they were packing. Everything that belonged to Alan went in one set of boxes. They had those hauled to a storage place. Your things went in another set of boxes, and they brought them down here.”
    â€œThey took the furniture?”
    Harry nodded. “I asked the movers if they’d leave your bed and the sofa and one of the chairs. But they said they had their orders from the Stanfords—everything had to go.”
    â€œEverything?” Hot tears stung Connie’s eyelids.
    â€œThey said Alan had paid for everything and now it all belonged to his parents. Even that picture of him on your dresser, and the photo albums and everything in the cupboards. They left you your clothes and some personal things, but that’s about it.”
    â€œSo they took everything away and changed the locks?”
    â€œThat’s right.” Harry nodded. “I’m really sorry, Miss Wilson. I tried to save something for you, but they wouldn’t let me come in any farther than the front entry way.”
    Connie’s mind was reeling. She didn’t know what to do. She’d lost Alan, their baby, and the home they’d shared in less than twenty-four hours. “Do you think I could use your phone to call the Stanfords? Maybe there’s some kind of mistake.”
    â€œYou can try, but don’t get your hopes up. People like the Stanfords don’t have hearts. All they’ve got are rolls of dollar bills in their chests!”
    â€œThat’s what Alan used to say.” Connie gave a small, sad smile. “But I still think I should call them. I want to hear it from them.”
    Harry nodded and pushed the phone to her side of the desk. “Look, Miss Wilson . . . Connie. Give ’em hell, okay? Alan was crazy about you. He told me you were going to get married. What they did to you is just plain wrong!”
    Connie’s hands were shaking as she dialed the number. She knew the Stanfords hadn’t approved of her, but she hadn’t dreamed they hated her quite this much. What could she say to change their minds, to convince them that she was grieving over Alan just as much, or more, than they were?
    â€œStanford residence. Elsa speaking.”
    It was the Swedish maid, and Connie immediately felt better. She’d never actually spoken to Elsa, but Alan had told her the woman was very nice. “Hello, Elsa. This is Connie Wilson, Alan’s fiancé. May I please talk to Mr. or Mrs. Stanford?”
    â€œI’m sorry, Miss Wilson, they’re not taking any calls. They told me to say if you have any questions, you should contact their lawyer, Mr. Quentin Avery.”
    â€œTheir lawyer? But . . . won’t they just talk to me?”
    â€œCould you hold the line for a moment, please?” There was the sound of a door closing softly, and then Elsa’s voice came on the line again. “Miss Wilson? I can’t talk long, but I want to tell you how sorry I am. Alan told me he loved you, and it’s not right what they’re doing.”
    Connie blinked