“Mr. Whitmore’s attorney.”
Arthur looked annoyed.
“Why did I not think of that?”
“Because,” Mrs. Alvarez said, “you enjoy opening drawers.”
Helen laughed.
Arthur made the call.
His attorney, Samuel Bell, was eighty-two and apparently believed Saturday afternoons were for naps.
He was not pleased.
Until Arthur mentioned Eleanor.
Then his voice changed.
Arthur listened.
“What trust?”
Grace went still.
Arthur looked at us.
“Yes. Grace Foster.”
Another pause.
“You’re certain?”
He sat.
“When?”
He listened for nearly a minute.
Then he closed his eyes.
“I see.”
When he ended the call, nobody asked immediately.
Arthur needed a moment.
Finally, he said, “Eleanor created a small educational trust six years ago.”
“For Grace?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Grace shook her head.
“That makes no sense.”
“It was funded personally. Bell prepared the paperwork. Eleanor instructed him not to contact you unless she gave further authorization.”
“But she died,” Grace said.
