“She’s worth more to me dead than alive!” Neil Vandermonde’s grunt of displeasure was trailed by the whoosh of papers being knocked from his desk. “Fifty-seven thousand? Some backwoods dump? This has got to be a bad joke! Her daddy is worth millions!”
Slapped by the indicative words, Hope Pearson’s hand jumped from the office knob as if it were scalding and she flattened her back to the wall. Her fiancé couldn’t be referring to her…could he?
But who else had inherited that exact sum from her poorly departed father? Not even buried yet!
“It’s inconceivable! All that money and he left her practically nothing. Nothing!”
Feeling as if she’d just been thrust into a very bad dream, Hope clutched at the diamond adorning her index finger and shuddered to make sense of the conversation emanating from the crack in the door.