It was a gathering of the crazy people.
“This-isn’t-how-we-typically-handle-estate-disbursements-but- these-are-rather-unusual-circumstances,” Owen Quinn talked at warp-speed. He looked like a miniature action figure sitting behind his chunky cherry wood desk.
There were four of us: Tricia, Alex, myself, and the surprise guest of the afternoon-Cliff. We were seated in Owen’s corner office with an ocean view. Our swivel leather chairs formed a semicircle around his desk as if it were a campfire. Instead of singing Boom Chicka Boom, we waited to hear if our lives were going to be enriched by Mona’s wealth.
Boy, were we in for a rude awakening.
“Each of you is named in Mona’s will.” Owen stood. At least I think he did; he was vertically challenged, which made it difficult to know for certain. He passed everyone a handful of papers with red “sign here” tabs sticking out the right side. So far Tricia’s description of the meeting was dead on.
He paced behind his desk. “Now, as you can see, Ms. Michaels left all of you something-”
“It says she left me her cars.”
That was Alex. He’d acted as if we barely knew each other. I played along for now.
“The housekeeper didn’t bother to show. Does she get to keep the money?”
That was Cliff. The cad.
“I don’t see Melinda’s name. Why is she here?”
I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, that was Tricia.
“Melinda was named Fluffy’s guardian,” Owen explained.
“She really gets Fluffy?” Tricia whined, spinning her chair in my direction.
“Very well played, indeed.” Alex muttered under his breath. He seemed to approve of my guardianship. Maybe he’d trade me, the cars for the dog.
“I should get Fluffy,” Cliff bellowed.
“Mona left the ARL three million dollars?” Tricia complained.
Don Furry would be ecstatic to learn he’d get his donation after all.
“Please don’t get caught up in what Mona left you. Or didn’t leave you. Okay? The reason for this meeting is to inform all of you she filed for bankruptcy a month ago. She had no assets. Only bills.” Owen’s oversized eyebrows danced with each word, his impatience with us evident.
“What are you saying?” Tricia asked, a hint of panic in her voice.
“Mona’s broke,” Owen said.
The room erupted into immediate chaos. Chairs oscillated like fans as everyone shouted simultaneously.
Bummer. Don wasn’t going to get his money.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“There must be some mistake.”
“Impossible. I would have known.”
“Do the police know about Mona’s, ah, financial situation?” I asked.
Owen nodded. “Yes.”
And the questions continued. She was broke? How could Mona have declared bankruptcy and no one knew? What do you mean I don’t get anything?
“It says right here I’m supposed to get five hundred thousand dollars. I can read,” Tricia yelled.
Alex looked confused. “So I don’t get the cars?”
Owen nodded. “The estate must be liquidated in order to pay off her debt and taxes. That’s happening now. Think of it as a high end tag sale. Unfortunately, there won’t be enough assets to cover the amount owed.”
I think Owen Quinn talked so fast because he wanted all the crazy people out of his office.
“What about Fluffy? Does she have to be liquidated too?” I asked. A guardian had to try.
“No, no, no. Fluffy’s not a part of the estate. She has her own money.”
“Yet she,” Tricia’s boney finger pointed toward me, “gets a million dollars? And that Darby gets two million dollars?” Her voice took on a shrill tone with each word.
Owen sighed and rubbed his tired brown eyes. “Those are insurance policies and aren’t tied to the estate. Ms. Becket is the beneficiary of one, and Fluffy is the beneficiary of the other.”
Darby wasn’t present. Because she didn’t know about the meeting or chose to stay away, I had no idea. For whatever reason, it was for the best. She’d have been mugged before she ever left the room.
“And the dog?” Cliff asked, dollar signs flashing in his eyes, temper rising.
“The dog belongs to Melinda,” Owen reminded him.
“Along with her money?” he bit out.
At least she didn’t cut you out of the will. I was more than surprised Mona had left him her art collection. I also found it curious he was concerned about the money and not if he’d retained his visitation rights now that I was Fluffy’s guardian. But I kept my mouth shut and waited for Owen to explain.
Mona’s lawyer sat in his chair and propped his elbows on the desk. “The money belongs to Fluffy, not Melinda. Melinda is the controller of the money, which is in a separate trust Mona had set up years ago. The trust is very specific on how the money is to be used.”
I quickly scanned the papers Owen had handed me. Grooming, food, bodyguard and caretaker. Wow, I got paid. Then I saw the amount and realized why Cliff was shooting me a death glare. Ninety grand a year. Fluffy’s bodyguard got one hundred and twenty thousand.
“If there are no more questions,” Owen stood, excusing us from his office.
I looked up from the legal documents I’d been studying. It looked like we had a missing person on our hands.
“Who’s Fluffy’s bodyguard?”