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Her brows rose. “Ongoing?” Ben was seven years her senior. Far beyond college years.
“Ben has attained a BA over the years. He regularly takes adult education courses in areas of interest.” A smile flickered.“He asked for a big-screen smart television years ago, which is fairly standard in most residences. I granted his request. He’s also quite a gamer. That necessitates a specialized computer with a large screen, gaming systems that require updating every few years and subscriptions I don’t quite understand. I’m more careful about approving want-associated expenses. The beneficiary is certainly entitled to things associated with his personal comfort, but not every request is approved.”
He'd just revealed more about her brother’s hobbies than she’d ever known. Ben had always been a shadowy figure to her, one who warranted unmeasured caution and avoidance whenever possible.
“But the conservator also weighs in on which expenses are approved.”
“In typical cases the trustee holds that distinction, but your parents specified that requirement when designing the trust. Of course, they probably imagined they had decades to fill that role themselves. But their untimely deaths…” His voice trailed off. “I’m sorry. You’ve experienced a lot of loss in your life. I recall some of the details that necessitated your brother’s hospitalization all those years ago. Maybe being Ben’s conservator isn’t a position you’re comfortable with.”
Her senses heightened. “If it hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have submitted the petition.” Camry had explained that the role would be filled by an interim conservator appointed by the court from the Department of Human Services while Reese’s paperwork wended its way through the sluggish court system.
“Of course.” Rivers removed his readers and folded them carefully. “In keeping with the parameters of the trust, I type up a monthly list of expenditures with my suggestions for approving or denying each and email it to Julia. Given Julia’s uncertain schedule, we had determined that she’d respond if shewas able. If I didn’t receive a reply, I was to go ahead on my own without input.”
“But she’d been more personally involved in the weeks prior to her death?” At the lawyer’s sharpened gaze, she lifted her shoulders. “I found some notes she left.” A rainbow of Post-its, each with a question. Or a single word underscored with a series of question marks after it.
“I wouldn’t say that. Whenever she wasn’t traveling she was more personally involved.”
“But she came to see you twice since the first of the year.” She’d learned that from her aunt’s planner. “Was that unusual?”
“Yes. She wanted to visit your brother. Apparently, he had denied her request and she asked if there were provisions in the will that would give her the right to override his wishes, but there aren’t. While I advised her that she could petition the court, it’s unlikely they would have granted it. Beneficiaries have rights, too. I believe she’d planned to address her concern with your brother’s doctor.”
“Did she follow through with that?”
“I really can’t say. You’d have to ask Dr. Sedgewick. She tells me your brother has become quite close with a faith-based volunteer who visits regularly, which is good news. Social contact has long been something he’s avoided.” With a quick look at the antique clock on the wall, he added, “I’m due in court at four. And given the city’s uncertain traffic, it’s best to leave soon. If you have more questions, though, I’ll be glad to answer them. Just drop me an email.”
“I appreciate your time.” Reese reached for her bag and stood.
“The pleasure was mine.” There was a discreet knock on the door before it opened. The assistant—Ainsley—stuck her head in. “You’ll need to leave soon to make it to court, Gerald.”
“I know, I know.” He stood and turned to pull on his suit jacket. In the process, he jostled the table, and the precarious piles swayed again. “Oh, goodness.” Ainsley sprang across the room to help Rivers with what was surely a repeat of the earlier debacle.
Reese left the ensuing mess to them and strode out the door. At the sight of her, Hayes stood and exited the opulent waiting area. Reese almost followed him, then recalled his earlier admonition. While she waited for his return, she dug in her bag for her phone. Scrolled through the messages. There was a voicemail from Camry advising her that she needed to call him immediately. Maybe the court had completed the glacial process to name her conservator.
Hayes returned, and Reese joined him, her head bent over her cell as she called the attorney. They reached the downstairs lobby before Camry finally came on the line sounding harried.
“Reese. I’m afraid there’s a problem.”
“With the conservatorship?”
“Yes. Your appointment is being contested.”
When she came to a stop, Hayes slid her a questioning glance. Placed a hand on her back to nudge her to move again. “I don’t understand. By whom? I’m Ben’s closest living relative. And why?”
“I haven’t seen the paperwork yet. Someone at the courthouse gave me a heads-up. This is a setback, but hopefully, it can be easily resolved with a hearing where each sides submit their concerns and any necessary evidence of their suitability.”
The bright sunshine was a shock to the senses when they stepped out of the building, but it couldn’t compare to the attorney’s bombshell.
“Who would have standing to object to my appointment?”
“Anyone with an interest in Ben’s personal welfare or assets. The latter is moot, because the trust dictates that in the eventof his passing the remainder of his estate goes to charity. So my guess is someone close to the issue. The trustee. Maybe a doctor. A friend or distant relative. I’m not an expert in conservatorship law, but a colleague of mine in the firm is. We can and will successfully fight this. You’re the practical choice for conservator. I’ll send you an email of things you should start putting together for our case.”
After a few minutes of listening to the attorney’s directives, Reese disconnected the call numbly. Frustration battled with outrage. And yes, if she were honest, maybe a fraction of relief. It offered an out for a position she’d had to steel herself to take on. But she’d already made the choice, and she’d stand by it.
Reese was dimly aware that Hayes was walking her by the parking lot without turning in. Her mind was too jumbled to object.
The trustee…a doctor…a friend…
It occurred to her that any of these possibilities might have one solid reason for objecting to her conservatorship. All would be familiar with her history with Ben.