Angel's Promise by Aleatha Romig

Author:Aleatha Romig [Romig, Aleatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Romig Works

Emma

My pulse kicked up as I stared at the older man. “It wasn’t what you’re insinuating.”

Sophie spoke. “Mr. Michelson—”

The prosecutor interrupted, asking me, “Does your brother, Kyle O’Brien, know Ross Underwood?”

“You said one more...”

I lifted my hand to Sophie. “Did he?” I corrected. “Yes, Kyle and Ross met multiple times prior to Kyle’s death.”

“Mrs. Ramses, Kyle O’Brien is very much alive.”

“I buried him four years ago. Forgive me if I’m having problems with his resurrection.”

The detective and prosecutor exchanged looks before Mr. Michelson spoke again. “Before your brother died” —he emphasized the word— “did he and Ross Underwood get along?”

“They didn’t not get along.”

“What about Mr. William Ingalls?” Mr. Michelson asked.

Oh hell no, I wasn’t going to discuss Liam.

I turned to my attorney. “I think we’re done.”

Nodding to the two gentlemen, I worked to compose myself, pushed back my chair, and stood. “I’m very sorry to hear about Ross. As his friend and business partner, I’ll mourn his loss. While I don’t know what he was thinking, in my heart, I don’t believe he would purposely harm himself.”

“Ms. Lynch, if you can wait a moment,” Mr. Michelson said, “I was recently made aware of Mr. Underwood’s wishes.” He lifted a manila folder. “Young people today think they’re invincible. Someone as young as Ross Underwood doesn’t consider death or the separation of his estate. It’s my experience that those thoughts aren’t entertained until a person has dependents.”

“Ross didn’t have dependents,” I said. “Not that he knew about.”

Mr. Michelson nodded. “In most cases, there isn’t a last will and testament. It’s about filling out the beneficiary line on life insurance and bank accounts.”

His gray eyes met mine. “With the current ruling of suicide, most insurance companies and financial institutions, such as the ones Mr. Underwood was affiliated with, refuse to pay death benefits.”

“If you’re insinuating,” I said, “that Ross’s parents are only after whatever measly insurance he had, I would argue that they care about their son’s memory more than money.”

“That’s what I found interesting, Mrs. Ramses. You see” —he opened the folder to a page filled with numbers and boxes— “you’re correct in that Mr. and Mrs. Underwood are the beneficiaries of Ross Underwood’s life insurance policy. It appears they are the ones who took out the policy when he was born. It’s only ten thousand.”

I shook my head, wondering if the Underwoods needed help. I made a mental note to talk to Rett. After all, it was my husband’s choice to not have a prenuptial agreement. That should mean I have some say in where money was allocated.

“That wasn’t Mr. Underwood’s only asset,” Mr. Michelson said.

“He didn’t have much. That’s why we were looking for investors.”

“Mrs. Ramses, Mr. Underwood had a Kraken account.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“It’s an account for electronic currency. His account received numerous deposits over the last eighteen months.”

My pulse kicked up. If I was supposed to look surprised, it wasn’t an act. “Again, I don’t know what this means.”

“It means that Mr. Underwood died a very wealthy man.

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