Part 5
Simon set his case on the table and took the seat beside me.
Raymond waited until I had put my bag under the chair. Then he straightened the pages before him and looked around the table.
The room held eight chairs with blue upholstery, a broad oval table, and a clock that needed winding. Raymond’s law degree hung beside a window overlooking the rear parking lot. Below us, a dental assistant was calling a patient’s name.
“We have two kinds of property to discuss,” Raymond said. “What Thomas owned when he died, and what he’d already given away. The will applies to the first.”
Vivian adjusted the cuff of her blazer. Her pearl earrings were the ones she’d worn to the funeral.
“We understand.”
Raymond put on his reading glasses. He was tall, with thick gray hair and the careful manner of somebody who’d learned that rushing a sentence could create a week of confusion.
He began with the residence at 86 Sycamore Court. Dad had left it to his wife, Vivian Rusk Mercer. There was no mortgage to pay off. The remaining household savings, after the estate’s proper expenses and administration, were also intended for her.
Vivian’s shoulders relaxed. She smoothed an invisible crease in the sleeve nearest Natalie.
The next provision was twenty thousand dollars for Dad’s stepdaughter, Natalie Rusk, from the education reserve he’d established in 2019. Natalie glanced up.
“Twenty?” she said, so softly Raymond almost missed it.
He confirmed the amount. Vivian looked at her daughter, and Natalie put her purse on her lap again.
Raymond laid the will beside its folder. “Those are the principal distributions from the probate estate.”
Walter shifted in his chair. Peter looked down the table at me. Judith remained still, her hands resting loosely together.
“Yes,” Vivian said. “The house and our savings. That’s what Thomas and I discussed.”
Raymond took another page from the folder. “There are also completed lifetime gifts. I’ve checked those records because some of you may remember assets that aren’t listed here.”
Vivian stopped smoothing her sleeve. “The building,” she said.
“Among other things.”
“Why wouldn’t it be listed?”
Raymond held the page flat. “Because Thomas didn’t own it at the time of his death. The transfer was completed years ago. The same is true of the investment assets we’re about to discuss.”
“Transferred where?”
She looked at Raymond, not at me. I could see her trying to arrange the answer before he gave it.
He turned slightly in my direction. “To Elise. His daughter.”
Natalie’s purse clasp snapped shut. Walter’s hand stopped beside his water glass. Vivian stared at Raymond long enough for him to lower the page.
Then she stood. “Thomas was my husband. You can’t sit here and tell me he handed everything over without me.”
Raymond didn’t follow her to her feet. “Mr. Avery has brought the supporting records. I’ll let him take you through them.”
Simon stood, opened his case, and removed three folders. He set them beside Raymond’s papers.
The first folder held the property’s ownership records. He opened it so Raymond could see the top page, then placed a copy within Vivian’s reach.
“Thomas purchased his initial interest in the building in 1999, before your marriage,” he said. “The later records show his ownership and the gifts to Elise. Those transfers ran from 2008 through 2018. At the end of that process, she owned the entire property.”
Vivian didn’t touch the copy.
Simon identified the recorded deeds, the signed instruments, and the related tax filings. Dad’s signature appeared where it was supposed to appear.
The second folder held investment statements and the records for my interests in the eight smaller commercial properties. “The first investment gift was made in 2004,” Simon said. “The documented gifts continued, in different forms, through 2022. Eighteen years of transactions. Thomas had his own legal advice throughout.”
He let Raymond examine the statements. Peter leaned forward, but nobody asked him to repeat the dates.
The last folder held the current consolidated valuation. Simon placed that one in the center of the table, beneath the light.
“This was prepared by a certified public accountant as of the week Thomas died. It includes the property, the investments, the other real estate interests, and the reserve.”
Vivian looked at the folder. Natalie looked at Simon.
“The approximate total value of Elise’s holdings is twenty-eight million dollars.”
Peter took off his glasses. Walter sat back until his chair touched the wall. Natalie’s hands flattened on the table, one over the other, as though she needed to keep them from shaking.
Judith gave a small nod. She’d known what Dad was doing; hearing the number aloud didn’t alter the way she sat.
Vivian’s fingers closed around the back of her chair. “That’s Thomas’s money.”
“It was his to give when he gave it,” Simon said. “The current value also reflects years of growth, reinvestment, and Elise’s own contributions. These holdings don’t become estate property because Thomas has died.”
“She took it from him.”
Raymond opened his mouth, but Simon answered first. “He signed freely, with his own attorney advising him. These records go back to long before his illness. If you have evidence to the contrary, your counsel can review it.”
Vivian turned toward me. “All those dinners. You let me feed you, you watched me do everything for him, and you kept this to yourself.”
I moved my water glass away from my hand. “The evening he died, you found time to replace the lock and send me to a motel. You didn’t find time to ask if I was all right. I don’t think my private accounts are what needs explaining here.”
Natalie looked down. Vivian kept staring at me. I left my water glass where it was.
Simon reached for a separate sheet in his case. “There’s also Monday’s withdrawal. Raymond and I have reviewed the bank’s records.”
Vivian turned back slowly.
Simon put the transaction confirmation beside the valuation. The two figures were visible at once.
“On October 14, eighty thousand dollars left Thomas’s household savings account. The cashier’s check was obtained under the financial power of attorney he signed on August 27.” Raymond took off his glasses and rested them on the will.
“Thomas died on October 9,” Simon continued. “His authorization ended then. You knew he had died, and the bank had his death certificate. That document no longer authorized you to make a transaction for him.”
“There was a funeral to pay for.” Vivian said it sharply, as if naming the funeral should make everything else indecent to discuss.
Simon put the invoice next to the confirmation. “Eight thousand two hundred and fourteen dollars,” he said. “The service provider has supplied the itemized bill.” Natalie moved her fingers off the table.
“That leaves seventy-one thousand seven hundred and eighty-six dollars requiring an explanation,” Simon said. “It needs to be returned for proper administration unless there’s a documented estate expense we’re missing.”
Walter studied his water glass. Peter folded his glasses and held them in both hands. Judith looked at Vivian with an exhausted steadiness I recognized from the end of very long arguments.
Raymond spoke before Vivian could answer. “Please get independent advice about this, Vivian. I don’t recommend discussing the transaction further without your own attorney.”
Natalie touched her mother’s sleeve. “Mom. Can you sit down?” Vivian didn’t move immediately. For once, she had no useful instruction for anyone in the room. Downstairs, a piece of dental equipment started with a low mechanical whine. Vivian pulled out her chair, missed the seat’s center, and settled heavily into it…
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