The Widow and the Will

by J. Thomas-Like

  Tess pulled her knees up to her chest and let her forehead rest on them, ignoring the cats. All of the stress and anxiety from the day poured out of her with a strangled moan, causing Timothy and Spencer to move away. Rocking back and forth, Tess’s mind whirled and circled with all the information dumped on her. She was wealthy. She didn’t have a second family anymore. She had a lawyer. She actually needed a lawyer. Jack had kept secrets from her. What else was she going to find out?

  As the crying jag abated, Tess hiccupped with every breath, trying to calm herself down. But as she exhaled, the blubbering began again and she growled in frustration. She hated when she couldn’t make it stop. She couldn’t stand being out of control. She knew she had a right to be as much of a mess as she wanted, whenever she wanted, but what she really wanted was for it to be over, for all of it to go away so she didn’t have to try and exert such iron control. If the pain would stop, she could think straight. If she could think straight, she could make decisions and move forward. If she just decided to do it, she could get on with her life again.

  But the truth was, the pain wasn’t going to stop any time soon. There were only two ways to stop the misery: forgive herself or have Jack back, alive and in her arms. The second was impossible and the first seemed just as hopeless.

  Chapter 11

  Hudson sat at the metal secretary desk in the waiting room of his office, documents spread out on every inch of its surface. To the right, all of Jack’s estate documents. To the left, all of the probate documents filed by David Kingston. In the center, a copy of the autopsy report and a legal pad already a third filled with notes and questions. He was at a standstill until he met with Tess Kingston again, but there was one thing he knew he could handle before the next appointment: calling David Kingston and dropping the bomb that a will did, in fact, exist, and that its sole purpose was to transfer into Jack’s trust any assets not already in it and that the probate case he’d opened was about to completely implode. Hudson was anxious to get to it, so he sent Tess a quick text asking if she wanted to be present for the call. Her response, an all caps “NO” and then “go ahead,” was all he needed.

  Something about the case just didn’t sit right with him. Jack had been in too much of a hurry to have his estate plan drawn up. They hadn’t been particularly close friends, but he had tried to draw Jack out. After taking down all the details and verifying all of the paperwork Jack provided, Hudson had asked him if there was anything else he should know. Jack had hesitated, no doubt about it, as if he wanted to reveal more. But then a wall had gone up and Hudson spent the remainder of the meeting listening to Jack’s assurances that there wasn’t anything else. He simply hadn’t wanted his parents or brother involved at all.

  The hesitancy and urgency had bothered him, but Jack had paid up front with a hefty cash retainer for the work and Hudson had been in no position to turn it down. The rent had been due, as well as a stack of other bills on his desk. Work was work, regardless of his gut feelings.

  Reaching for his coffee cup, he saw that it was empty and grumbled. Ford wasn’t in yet and he didn’t want to have to wait for a fresh pot, so he’d have to make it himself. Hudson hated making the coffee. He inevitably ended up spilling grounds all over himself when he struggled to open the foil packets, or sloshing water onto his pants. Somehow, Ford had made it an art form and his coffee always seemed better.

  “I’ll do that.”

  Hudson looked up and found Ford coming through the front door and he smiled in welcome. “I’ll let you. Good morning.”

  “It’s morning,” Ford replied as he tossed his motorcycle helmet and leather jacket onto the couch. The coffee machine sat on top of a small, four-cube storage unit. He moved in front of Hudson, who stepped aside with relief.

  Hudson frowned at his brother’s back. Ford was freshly showered and his clothes were clean. He actually looked as though he’d slept the night before. “You’re in early. Everything okay?”

  “It’s all good. What’s on the agenda today?” Ford asked as he expertly dumped the coffee grounds into a pristine filter.

  “I’ve got court this afternoon with Josh Baker and then a settlement conference on the Jones matter at five. I need you to call again to see when we can expect the toxicology report for Jack Kingston. I meet with Tess on Saturday.”

  “You got it.”

  Hudson went back to the secretary desk to keep reviewing the paperwork lying there as the coffee brewed.

  “This is the entire Kingston file. It has a copy of Jack’s birth father’s trust and all the transfer documents putting the assets into Jack’s name. There’s also documentation in there signed by Roger Kingston as Jack’s legal guardian and adoptive parent. Go through it and see if anything sticks out to you.”

  “Like what?” Ford fingered through the pages as he listened.

  “I’m not sure. But I’ve been over it about a hundred times since yesterday and I think I’m too close. A fresh set of eyes might not hurt. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, but if anything seems hinky to you, let me know. While you do that, I’m going to blow a call in to David Kingston. See if I can ruin his day a little bit.”

  Ford snorted. “Good deal.”

  Pouring two fresh cups of coffee for both them, Hudson took his with a quick thanks and went back to his private office, leaving Ford to begin his task. Hudson had to admit he was glad Ford looked put together today. His binge drinking had been escalating in the last few weeks, filling Hudson with worry. Ford had connections with a local biker gang, but denied being a member. Hudson wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but suspected his brother was more involved than he wanted to admit. Most of Ford’s drinking buddies were longtime members of the club. Hudson had even represented a couple of them on drunk driving charges. But even with his problems, Ford showed up to the office every day, handled whatever Hudson needed him to do and he made great coffee. What he did on his own time was his own business, no matter how much it might worry his little brother. Or, so he told himself to feel better.

  Hudson looked up David Kingston’s office number and dialed, readying himself for whatever might happen. The receptionist who answered placed him on hold and then pleasantly returned to transfer his call.

  “David Kingston.”

  Hudson thought he sounded arrogant and he didn’t even know the guy. But the way he’d tried to intimidate Tess rubbed Hudson the wrong way and he was predisposed to judge the opposing lawyer badly.

  “Mr. Kingston, my name is Hudson Marks. I represent Tess Kingston.”

  Hudson thought he heard David say “shit” but couldn’t be certain.

  “I’ve been expecting your call. Or at least a call from some lawyer.”

  Hudson grinned, enjoying the irritation in David’s voice.

  “After meeting with Mrs. Kingston–”

  “Mrs. Kingston is my mother,” David snapped.

  Hudson raised his eye brows and gave his head a shake in a well-aren’t-you-a-hoity-toity-bastard kind of way. “All right. My client thought it would be best if I reached out to you. It’s my understanding you’ve opened a probate estate with regard to Jack Kingston?”

  “That’s right.”

  “The documents I got from the probate court indicate that the deceased died intestate.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it’s my duty to inform you that you are misinformed.”

  “What?” David’s voice went up an octave and cracked.

  Hudson grinned. “Jack Kingston prepared an entire estate plan.”

  Silence and then the explosion Hudson was waiting for.

  “You must be joking!” David yelled. “How convenient for my ex-sister-in-law to have discovered these documents.”

  Hudson held the phone away from his ear and cringed. Hope I don’t go deaf, he thought. “Actually, Mrs. Kingston–”

  “Don’t call her that!”

  Hudson found it very difficult to keep from laughing out loud at David King
ston’s distress, but he managed to rein it in. “Tess only found out yesterday that the documents exist. I received notification from an insurance company of Jack’s death and contacted her. I’ll be filing a petition with the probate court–”

  “That’s fine, you go ahead and file whatever you want. Of course, I’ll need copies all documents you claim are valid instruments executed by my brother, but in the meanwhile you really need to ask yourself whether it’s wise to get involved in this case. Are you aware of what kind of client you have? Did she tell you my brother died AT THE WEDDING? I don’t know how long you’ve been practicing, but you can bet the judge will not look kindly on a greedy woman whose sham marriage can be counted in minutes. What leads you to believe the documents you purport to have are even valid? How do you know she didn’t go out and have some other lawyer draw these up, that she didn’t sign them herself and then try to sucker you into this loser of a case? I’m sure she hasn’t paid you anything, and I can guarantee the judge won’t award you a thin dime of the assets for filing such a meritless–”

  “Mr. Kingston,” Hudson took great pleasure in interrupting the jerk, “I know the documents are valid because I drafted them myself. I personally witnessed the signatures. I was friends with Jack in college.”

  He grinned as he imagined Kingston turning red, or maybe pale white, while his blood pressure careened to Guinness Book heights. There was a pause on the other end. Then Kingston found his tongue again.

  “Then you know, Mister Marks, that as a material witness you cannot represent any party in this case. Your only role will be to get called as a witness again and again, for hours of testimony, hours during which you will not get paid. You’d better tell your former client that she needs a new attorney. Preferably one familiar with the rules regarding attorneys who have turned themselves into material witnesses. Or you can fuck off and forget any of this, and I’ll return the favor. Lose her number. It’s not worth your time. And send me a copy of the documents you claim you helped draft.”

  “Mr. Kingston, as a material witness, I am prohibited from representing my client at trial, but I can still represent her through the remainder of this case. Which I am sure you know since you are such a knowledgeable attorney. And you can get a copy of the documents from the court, where they’ll be, once I file.”

  That did it, Hudson mused. Silence filled the phone line and he waited patiently for more bluster and bullying. When almost a full minute went by, he tried another tact.

  “Look, my client does not want this to turn into a mudslinging affair. She asked me to reach out to you and Jack’s family to try and work things out amicably. Maybe we could schedule a meeting to read the documents?” He waited for a response that didn’t come. “How about next Monday afternoon? Two o’clock?” He knew full well David’s schedule was probably as crammed as his own, but Hudson tossed out the time and date on a whim, knowing it would be rejected. It’s fun fucking with this guy.

  David cleared his throat noisily and Hudson could swear he heard the wheels in the other man’s brain spinning. “I don’t know if that will be convenient for my parents and I’m in court.”

  “Okay, how about Tuesday? You pick the time. I’m wide open.”

  “Tuesday I’m in depositions.”

  Hudson fought the urge to laugh out loud. He grabbed the coffee cup on his desk and swirled the quickly cooling liquid around in a circle before taking a sip, as he made David wait.

  “Well, what about–”

  “I’m leaving for court,” David interrupted. “I’ll put you on with my secretary and you can get my email address from her.”

  There was a sharp clicking sound and Hudson wasn’t sure if David was transferring the call or hanging up on him. When the voice of a pleasant woman came on the line, he had his answer. He took down David’s email address and said he would send along some other possible meeting dates and times. He knew damn well a meeting with any of the Kingstons was going to be a huge waste of time, but it was what Tess wanted. She still believed that things could work themselves out.

  “They’re fucked.” Ford appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame, his one hand shoved deep inside his jeans pocket, the other grasping his cup.

  “Most likely.” Hudson agreed. “But it’s the hassle I’m not looking forward to. And unnecessary anxiety for Tess.”

  Ford looked at Hudson and raised an eyebrow. “Got a thing for the widow, do ya?”

  Hudson frowned and gave his brother a derisive sneer. “No, you ass-hat. Any normal human would feel bad. Her husband dropped dead on her wedding day. Her in-laws have abandoned her, all for the sake of the loot. And now she’s going to have to bicker and fight and be exposed to all kinds of scrutiny she doesn’t need.”

  Ford frowned and nodded. “Good point.”

  Hudson laughed with no guile. “At least this one’s going to be able to pay the bill. It’ll be nice to send a real statement to a real client and know that the rent’ll get paid on time this month. You find anything in the financials yet?”

  “I just started, man. Give me a while.” Ford stuck the empty cup on his thumb and twirled it about. “I’ll let you know if I come up with something.”

  “Okay. I have an email to send.”

  Hudson spent the next fifteen minutes typing up dates and times, and emailed it to David Kingston. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was time to leave for his court appearance. Gathering the client file and his briefcase, he stopped to watch Ford reading through documents on Tess’s file.

  “I probably won’t be back to the office today. Do me a favor and start downloading the probate forms I’m going to need. You’ve seen me do it enough, right?”

  “Yeah, I think I can handle it.” Ford nodded, not looking at him.

  Hudson knew he could. If Ford wanted to, he could be a lawyer himself. Hudson thought his big brother was actually much smarter in a lot of ways, but for whatever reason, Ford had no desire for higher education or bettering himself. It frustrated Hudson because he often thought it would be nice to change the name of the firm to Marks and Marks. But Ford always blew him off when he mentioned the possibility.

  “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

  * * * * *

  With his brother gone to court and the office to himself, Ford was able to better concentrate on the documents he was reading. Too often, Hudson hovered around interrupting his train of thought so he couldn’t parse out whatever question was put before him. Ford loved his little brother more than Hudson would ever know, but sometimes he irritated the piss out of him, too.

  As he read through the probate file, Ford found himself getting more irritated by the moment. The Kingston family had outright lied in their filings. They claimed Jack was unmarried and without a will. No mention was made of Jack’s adoption or where his original wealth had come from. They were doing everything in their power to keep control of Jack’s millions. An unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness thumped in his head as he thought of Tess and what the Kingstons were trying to do to her.

  He switched over to the financial documents and was shocked to see the extent of the Kingston estate. Sure, Ford had been around here and there when Hudson had worked up the estate plan, but he hadn’t paid much attention at the time. It was a cut and dried case and then they had moved on. Now, he was seeing the full value of everything Jack owned and that would be Tess Kingston’s.

  There were multiple investment accounts: IRA’s, 401(k)s, mutual funds and lots of different stocks. Ford noticed it was all the usual stuff, Apple, Boeing, Microsoft. But the amount of property was what astounded him. Houses in the Hamptons, London, and Malibu. Apartment buildings in Los Angeles and New York and acres of property in Canada, Ireland, and Scotland. Ford whistled long and low at the variety of real estate. Tess Kingston was in for a big surprise when she realized just how filthy rich she had become.

  Ford switched gears to review the transfer documents, the birth father’s original will and trust, and everythi
ng else in the file. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, either, and was disappointed that he wouldn’t have any nuggets of wisdom for his brother. It didn’t mean they weren’t there, but nothing stood out.

  Ford refilled his coffee and then pulled a laptop computer out of the drawer in the desk. He flipped it open and logged on to begin downloading probate forms. When he was finished, he put in another call to his contact at the ME’s office to get a status update on the toxicology report.

  As he sat and thought about the situation, Ford allowed himself to conjure Tess’s image in his mind. She was a beautiful girl in her mid-twenties and she should have been experiencing some of the happiest times of her life. Instead, she was a widow embroiled in a nasty estate battle.

  Ford didn’t like surprises and Tess had done just that. Only knowing her on paper, he thought she was going to be broken and damaged from all she’d been through. Instead, she was way hotter in real life than he expected and a hell of a lot stronger than most people in her spot. When she walked into that kitchen, he immediately recognized her from the post office. Her blonde hair looked soft and it was full of waves, not the crunchy, manufactured curls Ford usually saw on the bar flies where he hung out. Tess wasn’t anorexic-thin or flirting with obesity, either. She seemed just the right size for her five-and-a-half-foot frame, fit and curvy. It was her eyes that had really caught him off guard. Electric blue, energetic, contradicting the exhaustion and pain shining through. Clear enough to see the world around her, in spite all of the trauma she’d just experienced in the last few months. She hadn’t broken down during the meeting at her parents’ house. She looked close a couple of times, but as he watched her, Ford could tell when she pulled it together by the tensing of her jaw and clenching of her fists. She soldiered on.