Annabelle started ahead of us. “What I’d like is to move this charade of a meeting along so that we can get off this island as soon as possible. I’ve spent too much of my life in this godforsaken place already.”

Grant chuckled. “Can you tell she’s not much for small-town life?”

“Anchor isn’t for everyone.” And I was damn glad I didn’t have to share thirty square miles with this woman. I followed her into the small conference room and motioned to the chairs. “Please, take a seat. The folders on the table are copies of Harriet’s most recent will. I’d be more than happy to have them sent to your attorney if you’d like, as well.”

Clark stiffened in his seat. “What do you mean, her most recent will? Mother has had the same will since Dad died.”

I cleared my throat. “She made some changes to it a few years ago after she was diagnosed with heart disease.”

“Why the hell wasn’t I consulted?”

I met Clark’s increasingly angry stare. This was where the true colors began to show. I kept my tone calm and even. “Because you aren’t my client, your mother is.”

Heat colored Clark’s cheeks. “My mother was not in good health, and probably not in her right mind to make any changes to her will.”

I fought to keep the expression on my face neutral. “I assure you, Harriet was in perfect mental health when she made these changes. She’d had a checkup just the week before, and I made sure to have Dr. Kipton sign off on her well-being at the time of signing.” I’d also given Kipton a call earlier in the day to make sure he’d stand by his findings.

Clark opened his mouth to say something else, but Grant held up a hand. “Dad, let’s just read the will and see what’s what. There might not be anything to get upset over.”

Clark scowled at his son but flipped open his folder and began reading. It wasn’t long before he was muttering curses, and Annabelle was gasping. Her gaze snapped to mine. “You have got to be kidding me. I support my charitable causes as much as the next person, but this is ridiculous.”

I stayed silent. What was there to say? You’re a greedy bitch?

Grant’s head jerked up. His tone remained even, but heat blazed in his eyes. “There’s a contingency on my trust that isn’t on my father’s.”

“That’s correct. It was a wish of your grandmother’s that you get more involved in one of her charities of choice.”

Grant’s jaw worked back and forth. “I am working towards partner at Dad’s law firm. I work fifty hours a week. When do you suggest I put in those five hundred hours of volunteer time?”

“Five hundred hours?” Annabelle gaped.