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.”
“My future wife is too generous.” Forrest stood, pulling me to my feet and drawing me into a quick waltz around our room.
I laughed, tipping my head back, dipping low as he swung me down then up into a twirl. “I don’t need the money,” I said, reaching up to frame his face in my hands. “I already have everything I need right here.” Forrest’s mouth met mine in a long, slow kiss.
It was a while before we managed to call Emily and let her in on the big news, but I thought she’d understand.
When I’d woken that morning, all those weeks ago, knowing I could solve Alan Buckley’s code, the money was all I cared about. Now, it was nothing next to the true prize at the end of Alan’s scavenger hunt. I’d found so much more than Alan’s lost fortune.
I’d found a prize without price.
Love.