Page 35 of Nash Falls

“A temporary one. Your father was of the mind that you would know best how to deal with the investments, market conditions, dividends, tax returns, and the like.”

“Fine. I’ll handle all of that. I will also visit the house and look over the items to which I am entitled. Now, the titling of the house?”

“If you so choose, a legal vehicle can be set up showing Ms. Parker’s life interest. When the time comes, you, as trustee, will have theauthority to sell the property, with the proceeds going to the Cancer Society. And there is no estate tax, since the exemption amount did not come close to being exceeded in your father’s case. Only the super wealthy are affected by it in any case. Any documents needed to implement the sale of the house can be done at that time.” He paused and glanced at Nash. “Are you leaning toward letting Ms. Parker stay in the house?”

“I will take all of my father’s wishes into consideration,” Nash said guardedly.

“Well, if you do let her stay, so long as Ms. Parker pays the taxes and insurance, and maintains the property, we should be good to go. Now, I have applied at the courthouse for twenty copies of the death certificate. You will have to provide them to various persons and institutions, of course.”

“My wife’s parents both died a few years back in an accident, and I was their executor. So I’m familiar with the routine.”

“Fine. If you need any other assistance I am here to help. For no additional fee.”

Nash held up a hand in protest. “That’s not necessary. If you do additional work, you should be paid.”

“I was your father’sfriend, Mr. Nash. This is my final parting gift to him.”

Nash nodded. “All right. Thank you, Mr. Dickey.”

Dickey’s secretary put together a packet of the necessary documents and Nash left with them safely tucked into his briefcase.

He went to his Range Rover, but didn’t start the vehicle.

Instead, the up-to-now all-business and logically minded Walter Nash lay his head down on the steering wheel and quietly wept.

CHAPTER

17

AHALF HOUR LATER NASH LIFTEDhis head and wiped his eyes with a tissue pulled from a pack in the console. Then he applied eye drops so he wouldn’t go into the office looking like a total wreck.

Before he started the SUV he phoned the main number for the local FBI office. A woman answered and Nash asked to speak to Agent Reed Morris.

The woman put him on hold and then came back on the line. “He is not available right now, but I can put you through to his voice mail.”

“That would be fine, thanks.”

The voice that came on was an automated one, so Nash couldn’t compare it to the man’s actual voice.

“This is Walter Nash, please call me back on this number as soon as possible.” He then left his phone number.

He started the engine and pulled off. He hadn’t left the parking lot before his phone rang. It was Morris.

“Why didn’t you call my direct line?” the agent said. “It was on my card.”

“I had my reasons. I want to meet with you and your superior.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your superior, as high up as possible.”

“And why is that?” Morris demanded.

“To confirm that all of this is on the up-and-up.”

“You’ve been talking to your neighbor Hal Rankin, haven’t you?”

Nash involuntarily glanced over his shoulder to see if he was being tailed. “And how do you know about Hal Rankin?” he asked.