Chapter 17 Colton
Colton
Colton lingered, waiting to see if Zach responded. He put the glass to his lips and coughed before he took a sip.
“What is this?” Zach tilted the glass like it held flaming rocket fuel.
Granted Momma didn’t buy top-shelf liquor, but it easily passed the smell test. “Bourbon.” He made a drinking motion. “Trust me, it’ll calm you.”
“I don’t….” Zach shook his head and put it down. “Could I have some tea instead?”
Smiling, Colton took the glass back. “Sure. But you don’t know what you’re missing. You want ice?”
“Excuse me?” Zach stared at him like a goat looking at a new fence.
Poor guy was really stressed out. If the world were fair, he’d be allowed to pull Zach into a hug, and hold on until he felt safe. Instead, the best he could do was offer to get him a drink. “In your tea…?”
“In my…. No. No, I’m sorry. I meant a cup of tea. Hot.”
Oh shit. Colton put on a smile, but he had no idea if he could do that. How the hell did you make hot tea? Did his Momma even have hot tea, uh, things? Seriously, did he make it in the backyard in a jug like he was used to?
Fuck a doodle doo.
“No problem.” He had a phone; he could Google this shit. Whoa. Lots of folks drank hot tea. Maybe if he typed in “how to make hot tea” he'd get instructions.
Uncle Ted and Mr. Lee raised their heads when he came back.
“Is he okay?” Lee asked with what sounded like genuine concern.
Why now? He had a decade to check on Zach, why hadn’t he? Colton’s ‘something isn’t right’ antenna went up. The fact Jeb Baxter never asked for money should’ve been a warning. Instead of telling Jeb to tell Zach, Beau or his daddy, could’ve gotten on a plane and spoken to Zach.
“Just overwhelmed.” He set the glass on the table. “He’ll be alright. Got wits enough to ask for hot tea instead of the cheap bourbon Momma buys.”
Uncle Ted smiled. “Saves me from busting him for underage drinking and you from serving a minor.”
Some jokes weren’t funny, and he avoided glancing at his uncle. The sheriff told him to give Zach the drink. “Might’ve had to bust yourself too. I've got a witness who’s watching out for Zach’s best interests.
His uncle grunted, but side-eyed Mr. Lee, who nodded. “He has a point. As trustees, we’d like not to hire lawyers if possible.”
Colton busied himself in the kitchen looking for the box of Luzianne family-style tea bags that Momma kept. They had a kettle, but he couldn’t remember Momma using it. It sat on the broken burner on the back left of the stove.
Making tea was becoming a job. Now, he had to rinse out the kettle—because damn, the dust. He filled it with water, put two tea bags in the kettle, and stuck it on to boil. Lord have mercy, this was complicated. Might have been better if Zach had taken the bourbon.
He’d caught snippets of the conversation, but now that the kettle was on the burner, he could listen proper. With Zach outside, someone needed to fill him in on the details. Which, he realized was just another excuse to be close to the guy.
“It’s very simple,” Beau said. “Like all trusts, the terms follow the rule against perpetuities.”
The sheriff snorted. “The what?”
“Rule against perpetuities. It’s an old legal construct to prevent people from tying up money for all time.
Making it as simple as possible, a trust can only last for a currently living person’s lifetime plus twenty-one years.
Zach’s great grandparents set up the trust for their daughter and her daughter.
Zach’s mother was the lifetime the trust was measured against, plus twenty-one years.
Which means in about six years, Zach will inherit the entire sum. ”
“How much are we talking about?” The way his uncle asked implied the same thing Colton was thinking.
“Given the current investments, and with prudent withdrawals by Zach, I would expect it to be over nine figures when it becomes his.”
Colton whistled and glanced toward where Zach was resting. No wonder his grandfather had kept that poor boy on the road all the time. He was fixing to take his money if he could.
“Other than Jeb Baxter, did anyone else know about this trust?”
“I can’t say, sheriff. Ms. Brown knew for sure. She and Mary Elizabeth Baxter were close their entire lives. Beyond her, I would be shocked if Jeb shared the details with anyone. He kept his cards close to his vest.”
The kettle made this God-awful sound, and Colton missed some words as he tried to pretend that he hadn’t damn near jumped a mile. He snatched the kettle off the stove, trying to shut it up.
“…before his death, Jeb contacted me about the ownership of the show and its bank account. The attorney client privilege prevails beyond the grave, but I never represented him personally. You are correct that the show was a front. Jeb told me this because he wanted to be sure Zach’s money couldn’t be taken.
“Once I assured him it could not, he turned over the passwords to his business account and sent me all his papers. I turned those over to the FBI yesterday. I’m sure they’ll want to speak to Zach and Ms. Brown, but it’s clear from the documents that neither Zach nor Ms. Brown were involved in the illegal dealings of Jeb Baxter. ”
Lord save him from folks that had that many words in their mouths to chew on. Colton grabbed one of the coffee cups and poured the tea in, leaning down to smell it. Huh. Okay. East coast quirks.
He took the tea to Zach and handed it over like it was a live snake. “Here you go, honey. So, the good news is, you ain’t in trouble, so far as I can tell. In six years you’re going to be a gazillionaire, which also seems like pretty damned good news.”
“What’s the bad news?” Zach asked, sniffing his cup.
Zach hadn’t reacted like he had to the bourbon, so Colton savored his tiny victory.
“The bad news is that I think Beauregard is probably still spouting legal words that may or may not go together, and if you don’t get in there and give him an ear, he may never stop.
” Colton stopped, grinned at himself, just about tickled shitless.
“Then Ted’s head will explode—which, okay, he’s my boss, but he’s kin, and I like him well enough. ”
“Thank you.” He set the cup down and hugged Colton. “You always seem to be there just before I crash and burn.”
Colton almost said, ‘just doing my job,’ but Zach wasn’t just his job. “I told you already, you don’t need to keep thanking me. And not that I want you to have a meltdown, but I plan to be there if you do.”
“Still my hero,” he peeked into the house. “If they weren’t here, I’d kiss you proper.”
Colton filed that IOU away for future redemption. “We should go inside.”
Zach nodded and moved, but Colton stopped him.
“You forgot your tea.”