Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Some of the print letters were randomly capitalized.
It was done so smoothly that they blended with the rest. It was possible it was simply his natural pattern. I didn’t have another handwriting sample for comparison. But in some spots, the capitals didn’t quite match the rest of his handwriting.
I could feel the excitement build and warned myself not to jump to conclusions. Until I had firm proof, I had to proceed methodically. I pulled a notepad from my desk and began to list the printed capital letters, one after the other. It didn’t take long before I said, “Forrest.”
I didn’t need to get his attention. He was already leaning over my shoulder, watching my progress. “Those aren’t random letters,” he said.
anD
Always
Would
Success
ON
triP
OuR
Thank
mE
Rewarded
“Dawson Porter,” Forrest read, already typing it into his phone. He stared at the screen, turning it to me after a long pause.
The top search listing read Dawson & Porter, specializing in wills, estates, and trusts. An Atlanta address was listed below.
Forrest looked at me, his eyes wide with wonder and a shade of panic.
Holy shit.
“Your mom never found the money,” I said. “Call them.”
He clicked the number on the screen of his phone and turned on the speaker.
A moment later, an efficient female voice said, “Dawson & Porter, how may I direct your call?”
Forrest said, “My name is Forrest Powell. My father was Alan Buckley. He passed away a long time ago, but I have reason to believe he may have had business with your firm that his family was unaware of.”
“One moment,” the receptionist said.
Classical music played as we were put on hold. We waited, eyes locked on each other, not speaking, not breathing, not moving. It felt like a million years passed before a new voice interrupted the music, this one older, male, with the strong cadence of Georgia.
“Forrest Powell, formerly Buck Buckley. The last time I saw you, you didn’t come up farther than my knee. I’ve been waiting a long time for this call. I’m William Dawson. In addition to being a client, your father was a friend.”
Forrest shook his head, though William couldn’t see him. “I’m sorry,” Forrest said. “I don’t remember you. All of this is a surprise. Do you know why I’m calling?”
“I think I do, but you’re going to have to tell me,” William said.
I glanced at Forrest. The riddles continued. What was Forrest supposed to say?
“I—we, my fiancée and I—have been working on the clues my dad left behind. My mother was with us when we found a letter he left. We thought that was it, but then my fiancée saw the code in the letter and the name of your firm—” Forrest fell silent.
William was quiet just long enough for me to wonder if that would be enough, or if there was some other clue we needed to find.
Finally, he said, “Well done. I’m sorry I couldn’t contact you after your father died. The terms of the trust are very specific. I’m only able to release information to you once you contacted me. Now that you have, I’ll need you and your mother to come to the office in person so we can verify your identity. Then we can go over the details.”
“Details?” Forrest asked, his voice hesitant, as if he couldn’t quite digest what was happening.
“Yes, the trust your father left is a bit complex. We’ll need you to bring more than one form of ID and…” He listed acceptable forms of ID and dove into some of the legalities and limitations.
I didn’t register any of it. I wasn’t sure Forrest did either.
As if sensing our distraction, William said, “We’ll go over the specifics when you can come to the office.” He cleared his throat. “You should know, the amount your father put in trust seventeen years ago was substantial. In the intervening years, thanks to our good stewardship and healthy financial markets, it’s grown to an amount that is…” He paused, clearly unwilling to give us a number over the phone. “Quite a bit more than just substantial.” He cleared his throat again. “But as I said, we’ll go over the details when you’re here. I look forward to seeing you then.”
“Sounds good,” Forrest said. “I’ll speak with my mother and make arrangements from there. Thank you, William.”
“You’re very welcome. As I said, I’ve been waiting a lot of years for this call. I look forward to meeting you again. Goodbye, Forrest.”
The call ended, and Forrest and I stared at each other in disbelief.
“You did it,” he said.
I shook my head. “We did it. We did it!”
“I wonder what twenty-five percent of ‘more than substantial’ comes to,” he said with a raised eyebrow.
I held up my left hand, admiring my ring. “I think I have my share right here,” I teased. “You and your mom can have the rest.”