My throat tightened at this insight into Robert’s thinking. It was so like him—practical, yet deeply thoughtful.
“The collection is currently worth approximately twelve million dollars, as Robert indicated in his letter,” Marcus continued. “But its value has been increasing steadily. These particular models are considered blue-chip investments in the collector car world.”
“And what am I supposed to do with them?” I asked, gesturing toward the three gleaming vehicles.
“Whatever you wish, Mrs. Campbell. You could sell them individually or as a collection. You could maintain them as investments. You could even drive them, though that would affect their value somewhat.” He paused, studying me carefully. “There’s no rush to decide. Robert paid for secure storage and maintenance for the next five years.”
After Marcus left, promising to return whenever I needed him, I sat in the quiet garage, contemplating my situation. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I’d believed myself to be essentially homeless, cast out by my son and mysteriously disinherited by my husband. Now I was discovering I was a wealthy woman with options I’d never imagined. But I had nowhere to live except this peculiar garage with its hidden amenities.
I spent the day going through the portfolio from the safe, gradually comprehending the extent of Robert’s secret financial maneuvering. Beyond the cars, he had assembled an impressive collection of income-producing properties and investments, all carefully structured to transfer to me seamlessly upon his death.
One document particularly caught my attention: the deed to a modest but lovely cottage in Carmel, a coastal town we had visited several times over the years and always loved. According to the paperwork, Robert had purchased it four years ago, fully furnished and ready for occupancy.
I had a home. A real home. Not just this garage, however valuable its contents.
As evening approached, my phone rang, Jonathan’s number flashing on the screen. I hesitated, then answered, curious what he might say after our last interaction.
