Irrevocable Trust (Sasha McCandless Legal Thriller Book 6) (12 page)

The promise of the nirvana that awaited her propelled her forward. She plucked the trust document from the table and started reading. She made it almost all the way through the first sentence before she had her first question. The document was styled an
“
irrevocable testamentary trust for the benefit of the minor children of Allison Bennett.
”

She dialed Will
’
s extension.

“
Yes? Is Naya rampaging?
”

She chuckled.
“
Not to my knowledge. Do you have a minute?
”

“
Always.
”

“
I
’
ll be right down.
”

She ended the call and swept her documents into her arms. She trotted down the short hallway to Will
’
s office. His door was open, so she walked right in and plopped herself into his guest chair.

“
Aren
’
t all testamentary trusts, by definition, irrevocable?
”
she asked without preamble.

Will made a contemplative noise. She recognized it as his professorial warm up.

“
Well, with the caveat that this obviously is not my area of expertise, I
’
d say that
’
s correct. The difference between a revocable trust and an irrevocable trust is that the latter cannot be changed by the grantor once it takes effect.
”

“
And a testamentary trust doesn
’
t take effect until the grantor dies, right?
”

“
Correct. And, obviously, unless there
’
ve been some advances in science that I don
’
t know about, a dead grantor can
’
t make any changes.
”

That all squared with what she thought.

“
Then can you think of any reason why an attorney would draft a testamentary trust to specify that it
’
s irrevocable?
”

He scratched his chin.

“
Hmm. Possibly just out of an abundance of caution. Maybe the drafter is a belt and suspenders type.
”

Of course.

If there was one hallmark of Prescott & Talbott
’
s transactional attorneys, it was their insistence on building redundancies into their documents. It used to drive her nuts when she
’
d have to go to trial over a document that had been inelegantly drafted to provide the ultimate in butt-covering for the attorney, invariably at the expense of clarity and unambiguity. The trial lawyers all rolled their eyes at the belts-and-suspenders approach their colleagues favored when everyone knew that either/or would keep your pants up.

“
Right. That makes sense. Hey, if you had a thorny estate issue, who would you refer it out to?
”

“
Marsh Alverson, without a doubt.
”
Will answered confidently and without hesitation.

“
Great. Thanks.
”

“
Wait. Are you doing a will? I don
’
t know if our malpractice carrier would approve. Not that you aren
’
t competent, of course. It
’
s just somewhat far afield of your expertise, don
’
t you think?
”

Behind his glasses, his eyes flashed with concern.

“
No, don
’
t worry. The estate I
’
m asking about has already been farmed out
—
to your pal at Prescott, as it happens.
”

“
Oh? Is it in dispute now?
”

She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip while she thought. Finally she decided she owed her law partner an explanation. After all, she
’
d agreed to represent the Bennett children
’
s interests. Her representation affected the firm and, hence, Will. He needed to be in the loop. Connelly and Hank didn
’
t have to like it, but they
’
d just have to deal with it.

“
Not exactly. The decedent
’
s heirs asked me to represent them, though. It looks like it could get hairy. Our clients are the six minor children of a woman who was just murdered.
”

He rocked back in his seat.

“
Good Lord. Do the authorities have a suspect?
”

“
I
’
m not sure about the authorities, but Hank and Connelly seem to think Bricker killed her.
”

“
Jeffrey
Bricker? The prepper Bricker?
”

“
That
’
s the one. It
’
s his wife, Will. Anna Bricker
’
s dead. And she left my contact information for her kids with her estate papers.
”

Complete silence stretched across his office.

She waited a long minute. Then she said,
“
Will?
”

“
This is a serious development.
”
Will
’
s voice lacked its usual reassuring timbre. He sounded squeaky and unsure. In truth, he sounded scared.

“
It is. And I have no more information, because Connelly and Hank haven
’
t told me anything. They think they
’
re protecting us by keeping us in the dark. Why don
’
t you see if you can get anything out of our favorite shadow agents while I wade through this trust language?
”

Will huffed.

“
Listen,
”
she continued,
“
I
’
m not just putting you off. Believe me. I
’
m almost as in the dark as you are. But I need to review these documents.
”

And get my espresso
, she added silently.

“
Well
…
fine. Are the children safe?
”

She braced herself in anticipation of his reaction.

“
Probably as safe as they can possibly be. They
’
re with Connelly and Hank.
”

“
What?!
”

“
Will, please. I need to turn to Anna
’
s
—
er, Allison
’
s
—
estate issues.
”

“
Of course. I
’
m sorry. But did you say Allison?
”

“
She changed her name to Allison Bennett.
”

“
Of course.
”

She leaned forward and gave him an earnest look.

“
I
’
m as irritated as you are with all the secrecy, Will.
”

He sighed.
“
I know. Not to defend them, but for all their cowboy ways, Leo and Hank
are
dyed-in-wool feds. It doesn
’
t come naturally for them to share information.
”

“
Right. DNTK.
”

“
Pardon?
”

“
Oh, it
’
s Connelly
’
s favorite answer to just about any request for information
—
demonstrate need to know.
”

Will nodded thoughtfully.
“
I can see that. Okay, you immerse yourself in your estates and trust work. I
’
ll take care of the other.
”

“
Thanks, Will.
”

She hauled herself back to her office and resumed her tedious reading. She only made it through one additional paragraph before she saw something that literally stopped her heart for a brief moment. The section appointing the trustee of the irrevocable testamentary trust provided that said trustee was to be one
Sasha McCandless-Connelly, Esquire.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“
Do you want another shot?
”

Marsh gestured at her empty espresso cup.

Yes. Oh, so very much.

“
No thanks.
”

“
You sure?
”

“
Well, maybe a latte.
”
She figured adding some milk to the next cup of coffee would be prudent. And she figured Marshall Alverson, Belt-and-Suspenders Attorney-at-Law, owed her at least one more caffeinated beverage. Maybe also something more valuable
—
say, a kidney.

“
Be right back.
”

He popped up from the table and beelined toward the front counter.

Marsh scurried back to the table with an oversized mug, steam rising from the milk.

“
Thanks,
”
she said as he placed it in front of her.

“
My pleasure.
”

She took a sip then sat the mug down.
“
So. Let
’
s get down to business, shall we? You seem oddly incurious about why I invited you for coffee.
”

“
I assumed it was just, you know, networking. Your office has sent us some work. I thought, perhaps you wanted to build camaraderie.
”

“
Really? I left Prescott before you joined the firm. You assumed I just wanted to have a collegial coffee break with a total stranger? It didn
’
t occur to you
—”
she lowered her voice to a hiss
—“
that it might have something to do with the fact that you drafted a trust naming me as trustee for six minors and never bothered to ask me if I wanted to serve?
”

The color drained from his face. He picked up his cup and took a long drink, obviously buying time.

“
Not really, to be honest. I couldn
’
t very well tell you Ms. Bennett had appointed you. It
’
s not my place to second guess a client
’
s decision in that regard. I
did
tell her to make sure you would agree to serve because it
’
s quite a time-consuming position, or it can be.
”

“
And what did she say to that?
”

He cleared his throat.
“
You know I can
’
t tell you the substance of my conversations with my client. Clearly, she
’
s gotten around to asking you
post hoc
and you aren
’
t interested in serving. I don
’
t see why you have to make such a production, frankly. All she needs to do is name another
—”

“
Allison Bennett is dead.
”

Marsh flinched.
“
Oh. I
’
m sorry.
”

She just looked at him.

He examined the inside of his mug for a moment then he looked up.

“
I don
’
t know the nature of your relationship with Ms. Bennett. She did state that you were not a relative. You can always refuse to serve.
”

She blinked. It was becoming abundantly clear that Marsh had no clue who his client was. Marsh, for all his impeccable manners and good breeding, was just a faceless, interchangeable cog in the Prescott & Talbott machine. He wasn
’
t equipped to deal with the rough edges of his clients
’
lives.

She took another drink of her fragrant, fresh-roasted coffee while she considered how to break the news to him.