“I’ll have a talk with her,” she promised, walking him to the front door with cooler in hand.
“Thanks for today. It was everything I didn’t know I needed.”
“Any time. In fact…”
The doorbell rang, and through the glass sidelights she saw Andy Plankenhorn standing on her doorstep. He was dressed in baggy knee-length shorts, a golf shirt, black knee socks, and white tennis shoes. He was carrying a battered leather briefcase.
“Call me later, okay?” Whelan said. “I want to hear everything.”
She opened the door. “Oh, Andy. Hi.”
The older man looked her visitor up and down with a bemused expression. “Hello, there.”
Traci felt herself blushing. “This is my friend Whelan. We’re just back from the beach.”
“I see that,” Plankenhorn said, his eyes twinkling. He put out his hand to shake and Whelan took it. “Andy Plankenhorn. Attorney-at-law.”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Whelan leaned over, kissed Traci on the cheek, and strolled out of the house.
Andy turned to watch him go. “He seems like a nice young fella…”
“Come on in,” Traci said, her blush deepening. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Nothing, thanks.”
She led him into the dining room and he placed the briefcase on the chair next to him, extracting a manila file folder, which he set on the table.
He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, then wiped the smudged lenses on the hem of his shirt. “What I’m about to tell you could be construed, by some, as an ethical violation that could be grounds for my disbarment. However, after long consideration, and consultation this morning with a younger, sharper legal mind, I have concluded that your late father-in-law engaged in such an egregious criminal act that I can no longer remain silent.”
“Andy?” Traci said, alarmed. “What are we talking about? I don’t want you getting in trouble.”
He smiled. “My dear, I am eighty-one years old. It is past time for me to do the right thing.”
“I understand,” Traci said. “I think.”
He opened the file folder and handed her a printout of Fred’s recently amended will.
Andy pointed at the front sheet. “You can see I’ve highlighted in yellow the most important paragraph in this document here.”
“He leaves the bulk of his estate to his surviving heirs, right?”
“Correct. His home, investments, personal property, et cetera. Some of your mother-in-law’s jewelry was to be left to Parrish, but sadly, with her death, that’s a moot point.”
“Okay,” Traci said, waiting for Plankenhorn to get to the point.
He tapped the highlighted paragraph with his index finger. “This is where things get very interesting. This lawyer’s work product contains some fatal flaws. In fact, this is such sloppy work that if I were this man’s law school professor, I’d give him a big fat F in trusts and wills.”
Get to the point,she wanted to scream, but instead she just smiled patiently.
“Fortunately for you, I believe that this will ultimately work in your favor.”
“How so?”
“Two words. ‘Surviving heirs.’”
“That’s Ric, right? He gets the gold mine, and I get the shaft.”
