Page 141 of Hello, Summer
“Rowena’s reporting that Vanessa says she’s going to sue Toddie—and Charlie—over the Oak Springs Farm title. Do you know anything about that?”
“I know Vanessa texts Charlie several times a day with all kinds of deranged threats,” Kennedy said. “Frankly, we’ve lost track of everything she’s pissed off about.”
“Do you happen to know who her attorney is?”
“No.”
“Would Charlie know?”
“Probably, but he’s in a meeting with the governor right now, and I’m not about to disturb him just so you can assassinate his character in print.”
Conley was beginning to lose patience. “Tell me one sentence I’ve written about Charlie Robinette that is inaccurate. Okay? Quote me the place where I’ve engaged in character assassination. If Charlie and his mom don’t like what theBeaconhas written about this family, maybe they need to look in the mirror. Because I don’t make the news, Kennedy. I just report it.”
“You report it with your own personal slant,” Kennedy retorted. “Because you’re still pissed off that Charlie broke it off with you, what? Twenty years ago? That’s a long time to nurse a feud, Conley. Maybe you need to grow up and get over yourself.”
Kennedy disconnected before Conley could offer her own version of her ugly history with Charlie Robinette.
“Aaaarrrgghhh!” she moaned, burying her head in her hands.
Michael had been working on his own story but turned around and regarded her with sympathy. “Getting stonewalled?”
“At every turn,” she said grimly. “Can’t get Vanessa on the phone, and I can’t get to Charlie. But I really need to get confirmation for Rowena’s column.”
“Have you tried reaching out to Toddie?” he asked.
“She’s my next call, but I’m apparently on her shit list,” Conley said with a long sigh.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” the young reporter enthused. “I’d way rather be hated than ignored.”
She laughed despite herself. “You’ve got a great future in this business, Mike.”
She called Toddie’s cell phone, and when there was no answer, Conley left a voice mail. A minute later, Robinette’s ex-wife returned the call.
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” Toddie began.
“Skelly told me you were upset that I sicced the sheriff on you,” Conley said quickly. “But I didn’t! All I did was point out what you’d told me yourself—that Symmes had visited you on the farm not long before his death. Goggins said he’d been to Oak Springs Farm several times. He knew how close it was to the crash site.”
“Of course I know the sheriff. We invite all the fire and sheriff’s department folks over every year for a dove shoot,” Toddie said. “But I resent the insinuation that I had something to do with Symmes’s death. My kids and I gave him the only happiness he’d had in the last few weeks of his life, and now you and thatwomanhave managed to make that look like some kind of crime.”
Conley had to bite her tongue to keep from repeating the same things she’d been telling people all day. Instead, she pressed on with her questions.
“Vanessa told our columnist today that she intends to sue you and Charlie, claiming you had undue influence on Symmes while he was of diminished capacity.”
Toddie laughed hoarsely. “Let her sue. Deeding the farm over to me was entirely Symmes’s idea. And don’t forget, he was the one who reached out to me, not the other way around. It’s not my fault that he had a guilty conscience and wanted to make things right after the way he ripped me off in the divorce settlement.”
“Have you heard from her attorney?” Conley asked.
“Not a peep,” Toddie said. “This is just a pathetic ploy to get publicity for her campaign. The woman will do anything to get attention. Threatening to sue me? And her only child? On the day she buries her allegedly beloved husband? Not exactly the work of a grieving widow, is it?”
Conley’s fingers were flying across the keyboard of her computer. “Did Symmes tell Charlie that he intended to deed the farm over to you?”
Toddie hesitated. “How should I know?”
“Charlie was the one who initially made contact with you, so I thought maybe Symmes shared his intention with his son.”
Conley heard a deep, masculine voice. “Mom? Who are you talking to?”
Toddie’s voice became muffled, but still audible. “It’s that girl who works for the newspaper in Silver Bay. She says Vanessa is going to sue me.”
