Inheritance (Part II)
The first installment of the story can be found here:
“This is absurd,” Timothy scoffed. His chest was puffed out like some preening tropical bird. “You’re an asshole, Dad, but you’re not a murderer.”
There was a great crash. Timothy turned in time to see Brohm spill backwards, his face swollen and black and bleeding, to tumble across the Persian carpet. A red stain remained on the table from where his face had smashed into it.
“Huh,” said Theo. He sat back into his chair, an amused little grin upon his weathered face. “I assumed Austin’s size would make him last longer. Perhaps it really was just hot air plumping him up all these years, after all.”
“He had a heart condition.” Every word from Penelope Hattish’s mouth was clipped and precise, as if her native language was Legalese. She, too, had taken her chair. “He shouldn’t have been drinking champagne to begin with.”
Molly, meanwhile, had sunk to the floor, clutching her auburn curls between her fists and muttering “oh my God, oh my God,” repeatedly. Her brother ignored her, still staring wide-eyed at the bloodspot Brohm had left behind. Erin, however, moved to her sister’s side and placed a hand on her slender shoulders. The younger girl yanked away, kicking out petulantly. “Don’t touch me,” she screeched.
From the far end of the table, Sebastian spat. He kicked the motionless heap that was, only a few moments before, Austin Brohm.
“Brohm was a fat idiot,” he growled. “And, yeah, he probably deserved to die like that — hell, he deserved worse, let’s be honest — but if you think I’m going to sit around and wait for the same thing to happen to me, you’re out of your damned mind. Stop fucking around, Theo, and tell us what’s going on here!”
“I already have. It’s truly not complicated. I have chosen a successor, as I told you.” Theo paused to reach across the table to a tray of fruit. He snapped off a grape from its vine, then popped it into his mouth and spoke around it. “Additionally, I’ve poisoned all of you.”
“I’m calling 9-1-1,” Timothy said perfunctorily. He pulled his phone from his pocket and brought the screen to life with a little flick.
“There’s no service in here,” said Penelope. Her hands were folded in front of her, eyes trained forward. “The whole estate is blacked out. This isn’t news to you, Timothy.”
He shot her a look of pure venom. “Spare me the lecture, Penny. He doesn’t get to just murder people!”
“Well,” Erin straightened, leaving her sister on the carpet to rock back and forth, and approached the head of the table. “There were those papers that we all signed. How closely did you read them?”
Always the clever one, Theo thought again.
“You can’t legally sign away a right to murder,” Timothy groused.
“No,” said Penelope, “but, in the state of Washington, at least, there are legal exemptions for consensual homicide. I drafted the boilerplate.”
“Then why would you sign it?”
“Because,” said Theo, answering for her, “her eyes were full of dollar signs. As were yours all.”
“Oh, horseshit, Theo, I don’t want your damned money!” Sebastian stormed about the table, his cheeks flush in a deep burgundy. He reared up before Theo’s seat.
Theo did not flinch. “And yet here you are.”
“I’m here for what’s mine,” Sebastian hollered. “I’m here for the company! You can keep every last cent that you’ve managed to pilfer away from it!”
“Well, as I’ve said repeatedly now, I have named a successor. Perhaps you’re the lucky winner, Sebastian. Then you can do whatever you see fit with KMG. Strip my name from it, if you like, it won’t make any difference.” Theo grabbed another grape. He bit into it then looked up into his ex-wife’s brother’s pinched face. “The public will always remember who built this.”
Theo was shocked to see that Sebastian’s face could go a shade redder. “This will not stand! I will not —,” he began coughing, choking on the words. Sebastian clutched at his throat with clawing hands.
There was another crash.
Sebastian was wheezing, coughing up spittle as he fought back control of his voice. “My God,” he squeaked out as he took in the sight of Timothy, Theo’s firstborn, sprawled out across the floor.
Theo grabbed another grape.
To be continued…