Free The Trust by Norb Vonnegut

droves to pay their respects to Palmer Kincaid. These were people I had not seen for years. And the funeral was, forgive me here, a reunion of sorts.
    Those same friends exacerbated Claire’s grief. Don’t get me wrong. She had a good cry with many of them. But she never left my side yesterday. And it was my arm Claire clutched for support, even though we had not seen each other for years.
    Weird if you ask me.
    Maybe the more familiar faces reminded Claire that Palmer was gone. There would be a void in the life that had once been so consistent. Or maybe Palmer’s advice prompted her to stay close.
    “You’re his thousandth man.”
    At 11:45 A.M. Huitt interrupted my reverie. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t expect us to take so long.”
    “Is everything okay?”
    “Nothing the family can’t work out.”
    Danger, Will Robinson.
    Inside the conference room, I studied JoJo and Claire for clues. The two women looked about how you’d expect—wrung out from the ordeal.
    Huitt launched right into business. “For the sake of clarity, Grove, all numbers are after tax. Best as we can figure, that is.”
    “Understood.” Huitt was being modest. He was a fine lawyer.
    “Palmer left one hundred and fifty million to the Palmetto Foundation.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    I couldn’t help the outburst. Palmer’s financial assets totaled about $200 million. Three-quarters was going to charity, a staggering gift by any measure. Instinctively, I checked JoJo and Claire. Both were smiling. Both were crying, tears of joy running down their cheeks.
    “Not kidding,” Huitt replied. “And that’s why you’re here.”
    Growing up in the South makes you diplomatic. You learn how to ask delicate questions at an early age. Me—I apologize all over myself. I’m formal, a bit awkward. And then I rip right into the rough stuff. “It’s none of my business. And forgive me for asking. But that leaves fifty million give or take?”
    Huitt looked at the two women. He was the consummate professional, a lawyer asking his clients for permission to disclose sensitive information.
    “Go ahead,” urged JoJo.
    Her engagement ring—a three-carat emerald-cut diamond surrounded by baguettes around the band—glinted in the light. I guessed seven figures from Harry Winston. Annie teases me about fashion naïveté. But I know my stores of value, gems included. It comes with the job.
    Claire nodded okay and pushed the bangs from her face.
    “Fifty million in financial assets,” Huitt said. “Plus the houses.”
    No way!
    My lips parted for a moment. “That’s after tax?”
    He noted my reaction. “That’s what I said. Why the surprise?”
    Time for diplomacy.
    Fifty million dollars before tax made sense. Fifty million dollars after tax did not, unless Claire was cut out of the will. Estate transfers between spouses, Palmer to JoJo, are tax-free. That’s just the law.
    But estate transfers from a parent to a child are fully taxable. If Palmer left any money or real estate to Claire, the remaining cash and financial assets would have been less than $50 million after all the taxes were paid.
    Sitting before the two Kincaids, I chose my words carefully. “The balance seems large given what I know about the family.”
    “Do you know about Palmer’s life insurance?”
    “No. But I get it now.”
    Wealthy individuals often buy life insurance policies to pay their estate taxes. It was possible, I now realized, that Palmer had left assets to Claire. I was not about to apologize, though, and ask what she had inherited. Diplomacy is one thing. Bad taste is another. Better to let the details bubble up naturally.
    “Why am I here, Huitt?”
    “Palmer requested something from you.”
    “Anything.”
    “He asked you to serve on the Palmetto Foundation’s board.”
    Shivers of pride danced up my spine. Pins and needles, the same feeling as a leg falling asleep, crisscrossed my forehead. It’s a big deal in my biz, an honor really, to