She Wanted It All - Kathryn Casey [108]
Steve was silent. Then, in a voice filled with resolution, he said, “It’s not a good time. You can’t come.”
In the end Steve’s birthday was a quiet affair. In his hospital room, the girls, Justin, and Celeste gathered. Kristina smuggled in his present, a blond cocker spaniel puppy.
“What do I need another dog for?” Steve said gruffly, but minutes later the dog was licking his cheek and Steve was laughing. He named the puppy Kaci.
In December, Steve put in a call for Chuck Fuqua at the bank, asking about checks he’d expected but hadn’t seen, including health insurance reimbursements. Chuck called back and told him that they’d already been cashed, the money put into an old joint account he had with Celeste, one that had been inactive, then pulled out and transferred into her personal account.
Steve thanked Chuck and hung up.
David Kuperman brought Steve more bad news in a briefcase full of bank statements and bills, including a spread sheet that showed Celeste’s wild spending while he’d been in the hospital. It must have been a bad day for Steve, looking at the stacks of charges Celeste had incurred. In the months since he’d been hospitalized, Celeste had spent more than $550,000, money that would have to be raised by selling stocks out of his trust.
Kuperman pointed out that many of the expenses were onetime costs, like the security system at the house and the cars. “Hopefully, they won’t be recurring,” he said. “I’ve talked with Celeste and she says the expenses will be going down.”
“This is out of line, but I can’t do anything about this now. Not while I’m in here. All I care about is getting better,” Steve said.
Yet Kuperman knew his old friend was fuming. “Do you want a divorce?” he asked.
“No,” Steve said, shaking his head. “I’ll talk to Celeste and put the brakes on.”
That day, Kuperman also brought an addendum to the trust. Davenport II was nearing completion. In a phone call, he and Steve had discussed what to do with the property and the income it would generate. As with Davenport I, it was decided that Steve’s interest in the property would go into the trust. Despite his anger, Steve signed the papers. It wasn’t what Celeste told Tracey she wanted—control of the money without interference from the bank—but it increased the monthly stipend she could expect to get if he died.
“Steve changed the will,” Celeste crowed when she met with Tracey. “It’s all mine.”
She arrived at the park that day in an expensive suit and sat smoking on the picnic table, looking out at the creek and the sun filtering through the bare tree limbs. Ahead of her waited all the wealth she’d dreamed of. All that stood in her way was Steve. That she didn’t understand the trust, and that the changes hadn’t given her access to his wealth, eluded her. As Celeste explained it to Tracey, the addendum meant she was the sole beneficiary to the estate and all of Steve’s millions.
“Steve’s such a sweetheart. I can’t stand to watch him in so much pain,” she said.
Celeste’s words stung Tracey. “I thought you hated him,” she said. “I thought you couldn’t stand to have him touch you. Now, because he changed his will, he’s a great guy.”
“I just hate to see him in so much pain,” she said.
It would turn out that her change of heart was short-lived. Early the following week, Celeste showed up at the park in her old humor, complaining bitterly about her husband. “I wish he’d just die,” she said, “just fucking die and leave me the hell alone.”
That winter, Celeste seemed intent on purging the house and her two storage areas of old papers and documents. Perhaps she worried about the secrets they held. Yet, she wasn’t interested in doing the work herself. She had her little “niglets” for that.
“Just get rid of everything,” she said. “I want it all gone.”
They did as they were told, but they did something she hadn’t counted on; they looked through what they were throwing out. As they pawed through boxes of papers, Jennifer and Christopher discovered four cards from Tracey to Celeste, and the three journals