Crazy in Paradise

by Brown, Deborah

  * * *

  After showering, I looked in the mirror and laughed. My hair was bigger than usual, and I lacked patience when it came to taming my red curls so I twisted it up into a clip. I did the minimal makeup thing, satisfied that I appeared presentable for a business appointment.

  I slipped into a linen dress that was a bright shade of lime green – my new favorite color since moving to Florida – and matching slides. If I didn’t need to appear professional, there’d be no way I’d put on a bra.

  “Dario,” I said as I came down the stairs. “I’ll be back later. My cell phone number is on the counter.”

  “Whose bright idea was it to make a dress in the same color as baby puke?” he laughed, enjoying his own humor.

  “See you later.” I closed the front door, happy he wasn’t my brother.

  Chapter 12

  I made the short trip to Tucker’s office in record time. “Hi, Ann,” I said, as I walked in the door. “I’m here for the meeting.”

  She had an odd way of pinching her nostrils together and looking down her nose at a person. “Mr. Davis likes his clients to be on time,” she said glancing at her watch.

  “I don’t believe I’m late.”

  “This way,” Ann motioned, and led the way down the hall to Tucker’s office. She gave a short knock and opened the door. “You can go in,” she said, never making eye contact.

  I was surprised to see that Will Todd had been included in the meeting. “Hello, gentlemen.” They both turned in my direction, but neither stood up. Tucker gave me one of his weasley smiles. “Take a seat,” he motioned.

  “I understand there’s no need for introductions.” Tucker started shuffling through paperwork. “We’re not here to discuss the unfortunate situation that took place at The Cottages. I wish everyone had waited for me to bring the two of you together for an official introduction, and avoid any misunderstandings.”

  I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Tucker cut me off. “I’ll take comments and questions later.”

  I wished I’d come better prepared, with my own notes in writing rather than in my head. I felt defensive, and talked down to. Not a pleasant way to start.

  “I’ll spell out how everything will proceed. Elizabeth hired me to draw up her will, and named me executor. She thought a strong hand would be needed to make the transition go smoothly. This process doesn’t happen overnight.”

  He stopped talking and pushed the intercom button. “Ann, would you bring me some coffee?”

  He didn’t bother to offer Will or myself anything to drink.

  “The estate is under my control until everything is finalized. I make all of the decisions. Let’s face facts, Madison. You lack managerial experience. In fact, I’m not sure what your background is. At the end of the meeting, I’d like to talk to you about other options.”

  “Before Elizabeth’s death, she appointed Will to be the manager. She trusted him, and was satisfied with the job he was doing, and he’s proven himself more than capable. As such, he’ll continue as manager, reporting directly to me, until the estate is transferred.”

  Joseph had told me that Will hadn’t become manager until after my aunt had died; there was no reason for Joseph to lie. Why would Tucker?

  “The court dictates the time frame, which can fluctuate depending on any claims made, and frankly, how backed up the court is. Elizabeth bequeathed you her entire estate, other than the measly bequests she left to your mother and brother.”

  I couldn’t believe what he just said. I knew for a fact that wasn’t true; Elizabeth had said so in her letter. If it had been his intention to embarrass me, he had succeeded.

  Tucker turned to Will. “Are there any specific issues you wanted to go over today?”

  “I agree with you, day-to-day management is going well,” Will preened. “I think it should be made clear that I’m the only person in charge. No problems or misunderstandings that way.”

  “I’m sure Madison doesn’t plan to interfere with the running of the property,” Tucker said, looking at me.

  I nodded, a stupid smile planted firmly on my face, feeling overwhelmed and dismissed.

  “I think I deserve some job security in exchange for my loyalty,” Will continued. “While I admit that I didn’t handle our initial meeting very well, Madison just showed up one day, and began agitating the tenants with endless questions.” He glared. “You could’ve stopped by my cottage and introduced yourself, and avoided any unpleasantness.”

  Tucker waved his hand and cut off my response. “We already agreed your first meeting could’ve gone more smoothly,” Tucker said. “Madison, what are your objectives today?”

  “My running The Cottages is clearly what my aunt wanted. I have my own resume of education and training, and my expectation is that I start to learn the day-to-day operations. My intent was never to jump in immediately as a full-time manager.”

  “In fact,” I continued, “I plan to operate the property as Elizabeth did, with a day manager who reports to me. If Will and I work well together, there’s no reason why he can’t be that person. I guess I just don’t understand why my request to learn about the running of the property is so unreasonable? I’m the beneficiary and no one is contesting.”

  “Are you sure?” Tucker questioned. “As you now know there’s a statutory waiting period, and we need to be certain no one is contesting. Once your mother and brother have had time to think about how unequally the estate was divided, they may feel slighted and challenge the will.”

  I sat in silence.

  “One more thing,” Will spoke up. “I think it would be a good idea if Madison stayed away from the property. Then the tenants would see that I’m in charge. If anything needs your attention, you’ll be contacted.”

  “I will come and go as I please,” I told him. “I have long-standing relationships with a couple of the tenants that I plan on continuing.”

  Tucker cleared his throat, and Will and I turned to him. He looked amused by the power struggle.

  “Now that I’ve heard from the both of you, I see no problem in accommodating you both. I think this meeting ended up being very productive. Will, finish updating the records and preparing the reports for the accountant and, before sending them to Whitman’s office, make a copy for Madison.”

  Will nodded his head in agreement. “They should be done shortly.”

  “And since Madison wants to learn about the inner workings of The Cottages, perhaps you can arrange a time to take her on a little tour.”

  A tour? He must be kidding. I know my way around.

  “She can call me anytime to set up an appointment,” Will offered.

  “At this time we’re in agreement that Will will continue to act as manager. A letter will go out to the tenants making this fact clear.”

  Will nodded, and I sat speechless. I’d been blind-sided. Nothing about this meeting had gone as planned. I looked at Will, and he had a big, confident smile on his face.

  Tucker asked, “Any more issues? Good,” he responded without waiting for an answer. “I’d like to end the meeting. There’s no reason for the three of us to get together again. If you have any questions, you can direct them to Ann, and I’ll get back to you.” Tucker stood up and extended his hand to Will. “Thank you for coming. If anything comes up, call me.”

  Will thanked Tucker, gave me a half smile and left.

  “Madison, I want to update you and give you a tentative timetable. I’ve opened up probate and have filed numerous documents with the court. In the coming weeks more will follow, but none of these proceedings will require your involvement. Ann will send you a letter periodically to keep you informed.”

  “Do you have any idea of the time frame?”

  “The whole process takes about a year, as long as there are no unforeseen problems. If anything changes, I would notify you. I realize you wanted more involvement with the daily operations of The Cottages,” he continued. “My duty is to the estate and the court; th
e letter of law has to be followed. A year is not a long period of time. You can use it to decide if motel management is what you’re really interested in.”

  Tucker never noticed that I had little to say, and I was positive he wouldn’t care to hear it anyway.

  “I want to ask that you keep your visits to the property to a minimum, to give Will the security he’s earned.”

  I don’t care about Will’s security. My cheeks were cramped from my phony smile.

  “During this finalization process, take the time to determine your long-term plans. I realize you think you can run this property, but you should think about that carefully. I’m certain Elizabeth would rather you sell The Cottages than mismanage them into financial ruin. I’ve had inquiries regarding whether you’d consider selling or not. You’d have the financial security without the responsibility.”

  “One last thing,” he continued. “I checked with the appraisal district, and you’re on title to the Cove Road property, showing right of survivorship. So the house will be excluded from the probate process.”

  I wonder why he didn’t believe me. Did Tucker actually think I would lie about Elizabeth putting me on title?

  “Should you decide not to stay in Tarpon Cove, I’m sure I could find a buyer for both properties: a package deal. Questions? No,” he responded, again without giving me a chance to answer.

  “Mr. Davis you’ve made it very clear that your client is the estate; I think my interests would be better served if I had my own attorney. In my opinion, oversight of The Cottages without any family input for possibly a year, or more, is not a good idea.” I amazed myself at how calm I sounded.

  “I realize you’re unhappy, but you don’t need to hire another attorney,” he said. “I’ll look out for your interests. Truly, my hands are tied. The law is very explicit about what can and can’t be done. Another attorney will only cause additional delays.”

  I stood up. “If I have any questions, I’ll call.” I’d just spontaneously brought up the notion of hiring an attorney, but the more I thought about it, the better I liked the idea.

  “Thank you for coming. This was quite a productive meeting, don’t you think?”

  “Thank you for arranging the meeting.” Good manners prevailed, but what I really wanted to do was scream my frustration in his face.

  I was happy Ann wasn’t at her desk when I walked out of Tucker’s office. I had a headache and I had no doubt that both men had agendas having nothing to do with my best interests.

  Chapter 13

  I decided to call Elizabeth’s CPA, Ernest Whitman III, affectionately known as Whit. He and my aunt had been friends forever and her accountant for about the same amount of time.

  “Madison, how are you?” He sounded happy to hear from me.

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say hello at Elizabeth’s funeral.”

  He chuckled. “Ridiculous wasn’t it? I can just imagine Elizabeth laughing, asking ‘what in the hell’s going on here?’”

  “I’m sorry. The funeral plans were out of my hands.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Oh Madison, I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you had nothing to do with the planning. Dickie what’s-his-name told me it was all his ‘inspiration’. I believe that was his exact word. He used it as a selling point to solicit my future business,” he snorted. “I wanted to ask him if I looked close to death.”

  “He’s too much.”

  “What can I do for you? I wanted to contact you, to let you know I’m here if you need help with anything.”

  “Do you have time to talk with me? I would like to stop by your office sometime.”

  “Can you come right now?”

  “I’m less than five minutes away.”

  * * *

  His office was also located in a converted house. An expansive porch wrapped around both sides, and on it were several colorful Adirondack chairs with cushions. I wanted to curl up on one of them, listen to the wild parrots, drift off, and take a nap.

  Inside, the rooms were decorated in a relaxed tropical decor, including an enormous fish tank. My efforts at keeping fish alive were abysmal. I either overfed them, or underfed them. I hated looking in the bowl to find another one dead. Then the crucial decision of do I flush or do I bury?

  The best part of coming to Whit’s office was the snack bowl that sat in the center of the coffee table, filled with candy, cookies, and crackers. Nearby was a small refrigerator which was always stocked with a dozen different kinds of sodas and bottled water.

  I grabbed a bag of Oreos. Just looking at them made me feel better. I waved hello to Helena, Whit’s assistant, who was busy on the phone.

  Helena smiled and waved me back to Whit’s office.

  He looked up when I got to his door, stood up and came around his desk to kiss my cheek. “We lost Elizabeth way too soon. She was a good woman and well loved.”

  “Thank you. I always liked to come to your office with my aunt. I went straight for the snack bowl, and then the refrigerator,” I laughed. “Just like always!”

  “The snack bowl is the number one favorite among our clients. On the rare occasion when we run out, they complain loudly,” he laughed. “So, Madison, how can I help you?”

  “I just came from a meeting with Tucker Davis and Will Todd, the manager of The Cottages.”

  “Now there’s a sleazy pair.” Whit shook his head. “In my younger and more principled days, I’d never gossip, but I don’t like either one of them. I’m more than happy to help you with anything I can.”

  “No wonder my aunt liked you so much,” I said.

  “I’m sure you’re aware Elizabeth left me The Cottages. I went to the meeting today, and my plan was to start learning about the property. Tucker essentially told me to butt out. He even directed me to stay away from the property.”

  “You’re kidding,” Whit said.

  “No, I’m not. Tucker informed me probate could possibly take a year, and until everything was final he didn’t want me to even go to The Cottages. Zero involvement.”

  “Tucker’s well within his capacity as executor to limit your access to the property, but why would he choose that tactic? He’s a smart lawyer, he should know he’d alienate future business dealings with you.”

  “What’s your professional opinion of Tucker Davis?”

  “He’s an a-hole,” Whit roared with laughter. “He has a questionable reputation personally and professionally. His clients are criminals able to pay his fees. The sad part is that he usually gets them off; his win record is near perfect. He thinks that somehow makes him legitimate. People around here think Tucker is as big a crook as those he represents. Although Tucker primarily handles criminal cases, he never turns away a client who can pay, no matter what the case.”

  “Why would Elizabeth hire a criminal lawyer to draw up her will and then appoint him executor? He’s the reason why the funeral was a circus. He refused to allow any family involvement. He just kept saying Elizabeth left him in charge, and he was only following her wishes.”

  “I was aware she used him to write her will, but making him executor came as a big surprise. She went to Tucker because her previous attorney retired, and I believe he referred her.”

  “What do you know about Will Todd?”

  “The first I heard of him was when Tucker called needing updated financial records. During the call, he told me he was named executor, and he also informed me Will Todd would be the new manager.”

  “Interesting because, in today’s meeting, Tucker said Will had been acting as manager since before Elizabeth’s death. I wonder when exactly he was put in charge?”

  “He informed me of the same thing. I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now. Elizabeth never said a word about a new manager, much less that she’d hired one. Cynthia, the previous one, left to have a baby, and I got the impression she’d be coming back,” Whit said. “In the few dealings I’ve had with Will, he hasn’t given m
e one straight answer, just one excuse after another. I don’t trust him.”

  “Someone else made an observation about him,” I said, unscrewing the top off my water. “They thought he acted like a man with something to hide. That same person thought he’d done prison time.”

  “Will missed the deadline to turn over the records,” Whit said. “I had to file an extension. Frankly, I don’t understand the hold up. He hasn’t been in charge long. What surprises me is, he has control of the records. I find it difficult to believe that Elizabeth would give him access to all the financial information. She certainly didn’t with the last manager.”

  “Does the fact that Will missed the deadline send up a red flag for you?”

  “Not yet. I’ll give him a couple of days, and then call him again. When I receive them, I’ll let you know.”

  “What’s your opinion of my hiring another attorney to handle my interests? I tossed the idea out to Tucker in frustration. He didn’t like it, and didn’t want another attorney in the mix.”

  “I’ll bet. He’s not a team player,” Whit said. “You’re already having problems dealing with Tucker, so I think your idea is a good one. He represents the estate and has no obligation to you, legally or otherwise. The fact that he even breathes is suspect to me.”

  “Actually, I blurted it out without thinking.”

  “Tucker’s acting within his rights as executor, not to allow you access to the property, but my question is, why wouldn’t he? In my opinion, he hasn’t given you any choice but to hire someone else to look out for your interests.”

  “I appreciate the advice.”

  “I’ll do what I can to help. I can contact Howard Sherman, another probate attorney, if you want.” He walked me to the door. “By the way, I hear you and Zach are a couple. Elizabeth would’ve been ecstatic. She liked that young man a lot.”

  I gave him a little smile and a hug. “Thank you for making time for me on such short notice.”

  I was about to tell him Zach and I were only friends, when someone called my name.