The adventures of amnesia girl continues…

Sighing I came down the stairs. I glared at the intruder the entire time. At the middle landing I paused to sneer. He rolled his eyes at me. THUMP. Hail bounced off the roof.

“Andretti cut it out. We have enough going on without you adding to it.” VD had the nerve to chastise me. I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked down the remaining stairs like the lady of the manor that I was.

As I stepped onto the hardwood floor with the shot gun still at my side, I looked at the intruder. My lip turned up as I looked at him. He looked around fifty with expensive styled black hair and brown eyes behind designer frames. It was debatable if they were prescription or just fashionable. His dark navy suit with a pressed white button up shirt made him look successful. His patent leather loafers made him look stupid. At least in my eyes.

 “Tell me why I don’t have him arrest you for breaking and entering right now.”

“I can’t be arrested for walking into my own house.” He scoffed.

I laughed so hard I doubled over. VD muttered under his breath about remembering to breathe as tears started to stream down my face. A few moments later I managed to regain control of myself. Sniffing, I flicked the last tear off my face. “What claim do you think you have on this house, Markus?”

“I’m the eldest male of the family. Obviously, the family home will be left to me.” His voice was angering me. There wasn’t a trace of a twang or drawl in it. Perfectly cultured vowels. Painfully enunciated. Like he hadn’t grown up in a shotgun house in a holler.

“You dare step foot in this house less than twelve hours after we buried Pops and try to claim it?” Suddenly it sounded like someone was bouncing softballs off the roof. VD started muttering again. “A funeral you didn’t attend by the way!”

“You’re being reckless, McKenna.” He jeered at me. That’s it. I’m done.  I stepped forward to deck him. VD grabbed me around the waist. “Don’t be childish.”

 “It’s Kenna.” As I sputtered, the hail stopped.

The door flew open. “What in tarnation is going on over here?”

Elle stood in the doorway glaring at us. Her long blonde hair was pulled up in a bun. Irritation and exhaustion battled in her blue eyes. An oversized OU shirt hung off her shoulder and barely showed any of the red shorts under it.

“Cute PJs, Bells.” VD wiggled his eyebrows at her. I rolled my eyes in disgust.

“We will discuss the traitorous attire of the two of you later.” I swung my gaze back to the intruder. Annoyed, I shrugged out of VD’s grip. “You have no claim to this house. Get out or he’s hauling you off to jail.”

“Someone want to catch me up?” Elle asked.

“Well, basically, I was woken up by this dill hole breaking into my house.” I started to explain.

“You mean me entering MY house?” Markus sneered back. “It’s late, you should get your things and get out.”

“Bells!” VD shouted. “You can’t punch him in front of me!”

Elle and I both rolled our eyes. She had been about to deck him this time.

“I think I got it.” Elle nodded. “He heard Pops died and is now trying to claim the property. Which has you madder than an old wet hen. Hence the hail shower. Congrats on making grapefruit sized hail by the way.”

“Thanks!” We exchanged smiles.

“Grapefruit? Nice, Andretti!” VD high fived me. I turned back to the interloper.

“You have no rights here, interloper.” I folded my arms and glared. I wasn’t about to let him come in here and roll over me. No more men were going to take advantage of me. The last took my memories. “The will has already been read. I’ve already signed all the documents. I am the sole owner of the manor.”

“I’ll just challenge it.” The pompous fake Rolex owner dared to respond. Anyways I assumed it was fake.

“You have no leg to stand on.” I sneered at him. “You might be a Mcintosh, but you are not a McGill. This manor sits on McGill land.” I paused to look him over from head to toe. “Or have you forgotten that you are NOT of the right bloodline to claim it?”

Markus let out an annoyed sigh. “You have forgotten that the McGills became McIntosh!”

The three of us scoffed. Elle came to stand beside me and VD. All three of us crossed our arms as we glared.

“Yes, Frannie McGill married Lachlan McIntosh.” I agreed with him while giving him a piercing look. “You understand why that’s irreverent right?”

“We aren’t in the Middle Ages! That no longer matters!” His snooty attitude was slipping.

“Yet you think you should inherit based on you being an outie instead of an innie.” I taunted. “Have you checked the date? It’s 2019! Women can own property now.”

My companions snorted at my summing up the main difference between men and women. Markus glared harder. Apparently, I was going to have to spell this out for him. Not that I expected it to make him go away. Past experience proved he could be like a dog with a bone when he wanted something.

“Wait here.” Turning on my heel, I stormed off to the library. I went straight for the picture hanging beside the shelf of old books. Carefully I took it off the wall.  In the foyer I found a silent group. It was creepy. Holding the picture up I pointed at a name on the detailed family tree.

“Frannie McGill had Pops with Hamish Duff. Then she married Lachlan McIntosh who raised Pops as his own. Who then sired my sperm donor.” I smiled wickedly at him as I moved my finger to a different branch. “That’s my bloodline. Now let’s do yours. You are the son of Malcom McIntosh and Faith Carson. Which of course makes you a McIntosh. Unfortunately for you, Malcom’s mother isn’t Frannie McGill.”

His eyes had narrowed into slits. He knew where I was about to go now. Still smiling, I continued with the family tree. I followed up the line from Malcom McIntosh where it connected to Lachlan McIntosh. Whose name was connected to Mary Jo Wilson with a dotted line. “You are on the wrong branch. You have no rights to anything that was Pops. Which is now mine. If you wanna fight it out, fine! Bring it. I lost Pops, I’m not losing anything else.”

I walked to the front door and opened it. Waving a hand at Markus I ordered. “Now get off my property. Last warning.”

He stormed out snarling about how I hadn’t heard the last of him. He’d see me in court. I slammed the door behind him. When I turned back around, Elle and VD were whispering to each other. “Anything you want to share?”

“We’re just worried he’s going to be more than a nuisance.’ VD answered. There were still exchanging looks. One of these days I was going to have to get to the bottom of what was going on there.

“It’s late. It’s been a long day. Everyone go home.” I shooed my friends out. Both hugged me and promised everything would be ok. When VD hugged me I thought I felt his lips on my hair. But that would be crazy right?

“We will talk tomorrow.” Vince promised as he guided Elle out of the door with a hand on the small of her back. I closed and locked the door behind them. Pausing only to snag the shot gun I had propped beside the stairs, I started to head upstairs. But I changed my mind. I made a detour to the hall tree.

Inside my backpack I found my pack and lighter. I went through the kitchen to grab a bottle of water on my way to the back porch. Before lighting up I downed half the bottle. As I set the half empty bottle down, I wondered if I could use my powers to refill it. How cool would that be? I’d never have to buy water again.

I took a drag off my cigarette. Focusing on the bottle I willed it to fill. Nothing happened. I shrugged and put the bottle down. I’d have to check with Elle. She’d know if we could make water.

Leaning back in the chair I thought about Markus. Growing up I didn’t see him too often. Pops and Malcom did not like each other. Malcom was convinced that as the older brother, he was entitled to the family fortune.  He was the son of Lachlan and his girlfriend. She ran off with a rodeo cowboy when Malcom was two. Mary Jo came back to town a few years later angry after being cheated on by her cowboy. She expected Lachlan to have been just sitting around waiting for her return. Instead, she found him married with child. Lachlan loved  Frannie and refused to abandon her and Pops for Mary Jo.

My great grandparents didn’t blame Malcom for his mother’s actions. He was raised as Pop’s half-brother.  He was included in family events and publicly acknowledged as a McIntosh. Just not a McGill.

The family money came from my great-grandfather Hamish. Being the money man for the mob allowed him to do some creative accounting with their booze running profits. Which he bought with him to Missouri when his bosses realized most of their alcohol running money was missing. Everything went to Frannie when he was gunned down in St. Louis for stealing.

That’s what happens when you steal mob money. Shaking my head I took another drag. However, Malcom never accepted that he wasn’t owed the money. Even though the will explicitly stated that all McGill assets went to Pops. Not that Malcom was left empty-handed. Half a million dollars was left to him. That was in the seventies. Quite the windfall for the time.

Malcom was bitter about the difference in their inheritance. He always took pot shots at Pops. Every family event he showed up at he demanded money. Shockingly he had burned through the hundreds of thousand in no time. The fool kept investing in get rich schemes while living a millionaire lifestyle.

He finally married Faith Carson, the daughter of the local Chevy dealer. She was thirty years younger than him, which raised a lot of eyebrows in the small community. They quickly had Markus. I never knew for sure what happened to the dealership, but I did know that it went under. There were rumors about missing money.

Malcom and Faith lost everything and had to move into an old farmhouse. We basically only saw them at reunions or random run ins on the street. Every time was painful. Malcom always claimed that Pops had stolen the family money from him.

I knew that Pops always shut him down. However, I couldn’t seem to recall details. Absently, I rubbed my thumb where I had worn my good luck ring. Good luck ring my backside! Ugh. It was so irritating to know that my memories were tampered with. Sadly, I couldn't be sure what I was remembering was even right. I’d verify with VD and Elle tomorrow just to be sure.

Wait. There was a quicker way. “Mom?”

I snubbed out my smoke while I waited to find out if mom was around. She said she wasn’t always on this plane. I finished my bottle of water off. Sighing, I got up to go inside. Guess she was recharging or whatever she did on the ghost plane. I really needed to find that out.

On my way through the white-on-white kitchen, I tossed my bottle into the recycling bin. Still carrying the shot gun, I ducked into the stairs hidden in the pantry. They were originally used by staff to move around without being seen. I didn’t particularly like them since they were completely enclosed and I had to wonder how staff carried things up and down with such tight walls.

I stepped out on the second floor across from the bathroom. Looking both ways I made sure the devil cat wasn’t waiting to pounce. Dashing into the bathroom, I slammed the door behind me for safety reasons.

After I washed and brushed everything that required it, I dashed back across to my room. Where I found evil waiting for me. The fur lined demon was stretched out on my pillow licking her private parts. That felt deliberate. Keeping an eye on her I went into my closet to retrieve my PJs.

Now clad in a simple pair of shorts and a tank top, I shooed the cat off my bed. She flattened her ears at me. Then stalked off with her tail straight up and twitching. She was so going to go puke in my shoes.

Shaking my head, I climbed into my bed. I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. “Good night, Joey”