Page 34 of Nash Falls

Nash sat up even straighter. “My God. That’s quite a sum to get out of the military. But I understood that such payments were typically done on a monthly basis and were based on a complicated calculation of the veteran being married or not, how many dependents, the exact harm caused by the Agent Orange exposure, and the like.”

“You seem to have done some research into this,” observed Dickey.

“When she was alive my mother had some questions, so I tried to find some answers for her.”

“Well, you’re right, monthly disability paymentsarethe norm based on calculations and the elements you just outlined. However,your father argued, successfully, for a lump-sum payment due to some particular circumstances of his case.”

“The unique conditions?”

“Yes.”

“He did tend to keep things close to the vest.”

“I actually initially represented him as I have other veterans in similar situations. For the most part the Army routinely stonewalled them until they either died or gave up or sought payments from the likes of Monsanto and the other manufacturers of Agent Orange. But Ty persisted even after I had told him there was no hope, and he apparently made a forceful case to get such a payout.”

“It was in his nature. But if he did so without benefit of legal representation, that was a Herculean feat.”

Dickey smiled and his eyes danced as a result. “Didn’t you know, Mr. Nash?”

“Know what?”

“Your fatherwasHercules.” Dickey looked down at the papers. “The amount was not taxable under the prevailing law. So he immediately invested all the money in a portfolio of good stocks and also some high-quality bonds. And he reinvested all the bond interest, dividends, after tax, etc. The total amount now is $850,000 and change.”

“An excellent return over five years,” noted Nash, who could hardly believe his father had been sitting on this much money.

“Yes. He actually said you had rubbed off on him.”

“We were long since estranged by the time I entered the business world.”

“I think he was referring to your logical mind for business and the discipline to invest long-term.”

“I went by the house yesterday. It looked fixed up. Did he use some of the Agent Orange money to do that?”

“He did, yes. I believe the amount spent was around eighty thousand dollars.”

“So his return was even better than I originally thought. So where do those funds go? Some to Ms. Parker surely, as you mentioned?”

“Yes, $250,000 to her. The same amount to Shock.”

“And the residual?”

Dickey read off one page in front of him: “$350,000 to his granddaughter, Margaret Nash, to be invested and held in trust for her benefit until she is twenty-five years old, when half the amount will be disbursed outright, and at age twenty-eight, when the other half will be released to her.”

Nash just stared wide-eyed at the man for a moment. “He never even met my daughter.”

“That may well be, but his testamentary wishes were clear. And you are also appointed as the trustee and, despite the trust distribution instructions, you have the discretion to release some or all of the money to your daughter at any time in your reasonable judgment upon a request by her for said funds.”

Well, this complicates the hell out of things with her influencer dream.

“I guess my father thought I was ‘good at that stupid shit,’ too,” he pointed out.

“Apparently, yes,” said Dickey, without looking at him.

“So am I bound to tell Maggie of the trust and the amounts in it?”

“The document does not explicitly say so, but—”

“Understood. I will set up accounts in which all the funds can be deposited prior to disbursement in the case of Shock, the motorcycle buddies, and Ms. Parker. Has a trust account been set up for my daughter?”