CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER

1

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16

T

his was a seriously stupid idea.

Selina squinted into the swirling snow, blinded momentarily by the overbright headlights of yet another pickup truck passing her on the highway. Where the heck was this town? It wasn’t exactly the best weather for setting off to Rivers End, but the lawyer had been insistent: she had to come in person to attend to some family business.

She needed to get this mess sorted out and get home. Bella was flying in on Christmas Eve, and Selina had a list as long as her arm of the things they were going to cram into their week off.

Selina reached over and turned down the radio. “Jingle Bells” was her least favourite Christmas song, and she didn’t need the constant reminders that there were only eight more shopping days until Christmas. Her presents for her parents were already wrapped and tucked away safely in her closet.

All she wanted for the holidays this year was to spend some quality time with her best friend.

It seemed like one of them was always travelling for work these days. Selina shook her head. The ten years since graduation had passed in a blink. Somehow it seemed she’d ended up in a life ruled by flight schedules and client meetings, just like her parents.

Speaking of parents, why hadn’t her father called her back? She had no idea what this was about, and she hated surprises. He was probably tied up in board meetings. Nothing new there.

“In five hundred metres, turn left onto Main Street.” Thank goodness for her GPS. Between the dark and the snow, it took every ounce of her concentration just to keep her Prius on the road. Didn’t they believe in streetlights out here?

It had taken way longer to get to Rivers End from Vancouver than Google had predicted. The ferry was delayed because of the wind, and the snow had gone from a light dusting to whiteout conditions shortly after she got off the boat. Now it was so bad that she was practically inching along the road.

“Turn left onto Main Street.” She had her doubts, but she could see a ghost of tire tracks heading off to the left. Since there weren’t a lot of other options, she followed them.

Selina followed Main Street up the hill at a crawl. The town twinkled, the coloured lights winking down at her from trees and wires strung overhead. She scanned the buildings along Main Street, looking for the lawyer’s office. There were plenty of decorative window displays, and almost every window was painted with a wintry wonderland scene. “In five hundred metres, your destination is on the left.”

Perfect. Switching gears, Selina turned her attention away from the row of plastic candy canes attached to the lamp posts and looked for signs to a parking lot. She didn’t find one, but there was plenty of street parking. It wasn’t even six o’clock yet, but the town was quiet except for the strip in front of a bustling diner. The storm probably had most people hiding out at home.

“You have arrived at your destination.” She sighed in relief and pulled into an empty parking spot across the street from a sign that read

Kellerman & Archer

. Selina left the car running while she gathered her purse, trying to stay warm for as long as possible. A quick glance at the clock on the dashboard told her that she’d best get her butt in gear.

She’d called ahead, and Mr. Archer was waiting for her—there was a cozy glow of lights from the windows across the street—but they needed to get this meeting over with as quickly as possible so she could find somewhere to stay and ride out the rest of the storm.

The radio forecast was snow all weekend, and Selina hated the cold. She hated everything about this situation.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the car off and grabbed the letter from the passenger’s seat beside her. No time like the present.

She crossed the road carefully, wishing she’d chosen better footwear, and took a second to appreciate the view. There were a few streetlights now that she’d reached what she assumed was the centre of town. It looked like something out of a postcard, picture-perfect in the snow. She’d have to explore a little more in the daylight, hopefully when the weather was a little more friendly.

Selina pushed through the glass door and startled a little when the bells above the door jangled. There was no one at the front desk, but through an open office door she could see someone coming her way.

He was younger than she had expected. For some reason the lawyers in her mind always looked like her godfather—white-haired and wise.

“You must be Ms. Peterman.”

“Selina.” She took the outstretched hand and shook it firmly. “And you must be Mr. Archer.”

“Please, call me Brandon.” He gestured to a small table at the side of the room. “Can I offer you some tea? There’s coffee too, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Mrs. Johnson made the last pot before we sent her home early.”

“Tea sounds great. Milk and a bit of sugar, please.” There was something comforting about holding a hot mug in your hands on a cold day, and she was in need of comfort right now. A kick of caffeine wouldn’t hurt either. It had been a long day followed by a stressful drive, and there wasn’t much hope that it would get any better. The fear was like a cold fist in her belly. She didn’t know exactly what was going on, but in her experience, lawyers didn’t often require an in-person conference to share good news.

“Why don’t you get settled in my office while we wait for the kettle to boil? I’ll join you in a minute.”

Selina made her way through Brandon’s office door, ignored the couch along one wall, and chose an armchair in front of the desk. It was a nice office, not too flashy but comfortable, and it communicated confidence and experience. Much like the man himself.

Out of habit, her brain started cataloguing what would change if he were her client. His clothes were good, his handshake firm but not overpoweringly so, and someone had done a nice job with the office decor.

She shook her head at the paper day planner on the desk. That would have to go. But he had a clean inbox, a tidy desk, and the folder on the desk with the name

Peterman

on the tab was labelled in a neat hand. He’d need a labeller. Her fingers itched to open that file and get a look, but she remained in her seat. She was a professional and never touched anything in anyone’s office without being invited. Instead, she admired the splash of colour from the poinsettia on the corner table. Just bright enough to be festive, but not as garish as some of the decorations outside.

She ignored the urge to call her father again while she waited, and hung her jacket neatly on the coat stand in the corner. It was wooden—antique, she’d guess. Classy but comfortable.

“Here you go, Selina.” She jumped a little at the sound of his voice and spun around to face him. Clearly, she wasn’t quite as in control of her nerves as she’d hoped.

She took the mug Brandon held out, laughing out loud when she read

Winter Is Coming

on the side. “I think it’s already here.”

“Mrs. J is a rabid fan of

Game of Thrones

.” With a concerned glance towards the window, the lawyer nodded. “On that note, why don’t we get down to business? We’ll make this fairly quick, because we both need to get home before the snow gets any worse.”

Selina nodded and swallowed. She’d have to find somewhere to stay in town. There was no way she could drive back to the ferry until the snow cleared up. She’d googled hotels when she stopped for gas and bookmarked The Big River Lodge. The website hadn’t been stellar, but they had a series of good reviews, so that might be her best bet.

“George Peterman was your grandfather, correct?”

“Yes. My father’s father.” Not much of a father, as she’d been told over and over again growing up. And not much of a grandfather either, as it had turned out.

Selina handed her driver’s license to the lawyer, who nodded and passed it back to her.

“According to your grandfather’s will, the house and everything in it belong to you.”

Wait. What? She’d never even met the man. “I don’t understand. Shouldn’t my father inherit?”

“The will was very clear. George wasn’t much of a talker, but on this he made his wishes known.” The lawyer handed her a piece of paper. “Everything is to go to his only granddaughter: Selina Li Peterman.”

“That part I get.” The paper she was staring at clearly supported what the lawyer was saying. “But why now?”

She could see the confusion in the lawyer’s eyes. “George’s funeral was last weekend, and we moved as quickly as we could once we were notified.”

“What?” That was impossible. Her grandfather had died when she was a baby. He was gone long before she had a chance to get to know him. “But…” Her chest was getting tight, making it hard to breathe. Was he saying her grandfather had been alive her whole life?

“Your father didn’t tell you about the funeral? He was the one who gave me your contact information.”

“Um, no.” What else was there to say? Her self-preservation instincts kicked in, and her brain switched to information mode. She’d deal with the emotions threatening to overwhelm her later. In private.

Right now, she had to get through the rest of this conversation and get out of here so she could call her father. Again.

“George left everything to you.” Selina focused on breathing as she accepted the envelope in Brandon’s outstretched hand. “The keys for the house and his truck are in there, but it will be a while before you receive a cheque for the balance of the estate. George’s will indicates that all expenses associated with taking care of the house are to be paid from the estate until such time as the estate is settled or the house is sold.” He paused for a minute, watching her. “Do you have any questions, Ms. Peterman?”

She had nothing

but

questions. She’d had a grandfather? How could she not know about this?

Why would her parents lie to her all these years? Why had her grandfather never tried to contact her? What was she supposed to do now?

But those weren’t questions a lawyer could answer for her.

“I do have one question. How far away is the house?”

Not far at all,

as it turned out. Selina pulled into the driveway and paused in front of the garage doors when a motion-activated sensor light flicked on. The house at 227 Tulip Court was only a couple of blocks away from the lawyer’s office, but she’d ducked into Jeannie’s diner to grab some takeout before making the journey. She’d had no idea what she was going to find when she arrived at the house, and the smells wafting from the diner had been too good to resist.

Selina dug around in the envelope the lawyer had given her for the garage door opener. With a click, the big doors rolled open and a light came on inside the garage, revealing an old brown pickup truck and what looked like just enough space for her to fit her car into.

With the car safely installed in its parking space and the garage door closed behind her to keep the snow out, Selina took a full breath for what felt like the first time in hours. She picked up her phone and tried calling her dad again. It went straight to voicemail, but this time she didn’t just hang up. Keeping her voice carefully controlled, she got straight to the point. “You can’t keep avoiding me, Dad. You need to call me as soon as you get this. I’m in Rivers End, and I need some answers.”

She wondered how long it would take him to call her back. In the meantime, she needed to see what the house was like and dig into her dinner.

Selina got out of the car, careful around the stacks of boxes and tools that were piled up along the garage wall. She shuddered at the disorganization. Clearly the meticulousness she’d learned from her father was not something passed down from the Peterman side of the family.

She pushed through the door connecting the garage to the house, and a wave of relief washed over her along with the warmth.

Thank goodness.

Clearly the caretaker the lawyer had mentioned had left the heat on. She dropped her bags in the entryway, making note of a small half bathroom to her right and the kitchen to the left.

Cabinets made of light wood lined the walls with an island in the middle. It all looked in desperate need of an update, but it was clean and comfortable enough. An old wooden table with four chairs sat against the far window, although she couldn’t tell what the view might be. Right now, all she could see was dark and the odd glimpse of still-falling snow.

She stepped through the kitchen and turned on the light in what was perhaps the living room. And froze in her tracks.

“Oh, dear God, no.”

Her grandfather had been a hoarder.