Irrevocable Trust (Sasha McCandless Legal Thriller Book 6) (16 page)

His face grew hot, and his vision swam.

Was that little witch representing Anna
’
s estate?

His surprise was short-lived, the shock turning to renewed fury.

He had to get to the courthouse and figure out a way to learn what happened during this hearing. It would be far too great a risk for him to walk into the courtroom, so he
’
d need to find an ally. Unfortunately, Pittsburgh
’
s urban prepper movement was heavy on attention-hungry dilettantes but light on true believers. His months on the run had taught him that the next best thing to a real survivalist was a homeless man of certain age and bearing
—
usually a Vietnam vet.

As McCandless eased the car along the uneven lot, he shrank back between the buildings and fumbled for his wallet. He
’
d spent the night at the city bus depot, thanks to a friend of the movement. He
’
d liberated a fistful of bus passes and committed the city bus routes to memory before he left. At the time, he
’
d had the idle thought that if a man wanted to drive home the point that government was a sham, nothing but a mirage, wreaking havoc on a municipality
’
s public transportation system was an effective way to do so. Once he had taken care of his personal business, perhaps he could return to spreading the movement
’
s message.

McCandless & Volmer
’
s law offices were located just above the EBO, or East Busway, a dedicated express track for trips from the city
’
s East End to Downtown. He ran along a short alley, hopped a low wall, and vaulted down the cement steps to the busway below. A handful of late commuters milled at the stop with their heads bent over their various smartphones. The only traveler not distracted by her Facebook feed or the latest headlines and not on a quest to bust bubbles, gather gems, or otherwise anesthetize herself from the world had her hands full with two small children in a double stroller.

Bricker had been railing against the mass adoption of technological opiates for more than a decade, but, at this moment, he was profoundly grateful for their addictive nature. None of these people would notice him, let alone be able to describe him. And the mother, with what appeared to be a jelly handprint on her blouse, was too busy trying to keep the curly-haired girl from climbing out of the stroller while simultaneously replacing the soft-soled shoes her twin brother delighted in kicking off his feet.

He was invisible.

A silver bus pulled up alongside the concrete shelter, and the driver opened the doors with a
whoosh
of compressed air. As the waiting group stowed their devices in pockets, purses, and bags, Bricker sidestepped the woman struggling with the stroller and flashed the one-zone pass at the driver.

He chose a seat in the middle of the bus and turned to stare out the window at the cement jungle surrounding him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Judge Kumpar ran his courtroom like a CEO. His efficiency and directness were a marked contrast to the usual milling around, throat-clearing, and disarray that Sasha had always considered the hallmarks of the Allegheny Court of Common Pleas.

Maybe things were different in probate court, but she had been unable to hide her surprise when the clerk who checked them in had the entire docket and seemed to expect them
—
no missing documents, no confused questions about why they were there.

Will, who spent as little time in state court as she did, seemed to be equally taken aback by the difference between the Orphan
’
s Court Division and the rest of the system.

Only Marsh was unfazed. Well, as unfazed as Marshall Alverson, professional worrier, could possibly be. As if to undercut any confidence she might have in him, he reached down and hiked up his trousers with his free hand.

To her endless amusement, he was actually wearing both a belt and suspenders. She could only assume he had recurring nightmares about losing his pants in court.

In addition to his sartorial challenges, Marsh was so nervous he was shaking. Like most attorneys who specialize in estate work, he rarely saw the inside of a courtroom. Will had promised him he wouldn
’
t have to handle the argument, he just needed to serve as their guide. He was performing that duty beautifully
—
he knew the procedures and protocols cold. He also knew the facts and the issues cold. But he was out of his element, and she and Will had to respect that. She sure wouldn
’
t want to be thrown into a public offering drafting session or a labor negotiation.

She gave Marsh a reassuring smile.

The clerk nodded toward the door leading from Judge Kumpar
’
s chambers as if to indicate it was show time. A moment later, right on time, the door swung open and the judge strode toward the bench.

While the clerk announced that court was session, Sasha studied the judge
’
s tanned, unlined face. He had small, bright eyes and a quick smile. A gray streak ran through his dark hair. Instead of the aloof, dignified demeanor so common among judges on the federal bench, Judge Kumpar gave off a brisk,
‘
let
’
s get down to business
’
vibe.

He nodded to his clerk and then turned to the assembled lawyers.

“
Counselors, good morning.
”

“
Good morning, Your Honor,
”
Sasha replied.

“
Your Honor,
”
Will echoed.

They all looked at Marsh, who was studying a copy of the motion.

Sasha jabbed him with her elbow.

He looked up, startled, and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

“
Uh, apologies. Good morning, Judge.
”

“
Mr. Alverson. It
’
s nice to see you.
”
The judge leaned forward and nodded at Sasha and Will.
“
And your colleagues. Welcome to Orphans
’
Court. You
’
ll see that probate isn
’
t quite as adversarial as trial court, and I don
’
t stand on formality. So let
’
s do this, as the kids say.
”

“
Yes, sir.
”

“
Very good, Your Honor,
”
Will said. Sasha hoped he wasn
’
t trying to match the judge
’
s informality; if so, he was failing.

The judge lifted the top sheet from the tidy stack in front of him.

“
Ms. McCandless, you
’
ve been named trustee of an irrevocable testamentary trust for the benefit of the minor Bennett children.
”

“
Yes, Your Honor.
”

“
That
’
s a problem, wouldn
’
t you say?
”

It
was
a problem, it was a huge, hairy problem for approximately a half a million reasons. But she wasn
’
t sure which problem the judge had zeroed in on.

“
It could be,
”
she allowed.

The judge pushed his glasses up on to the top of his head and rested them in his hair, like a high school girl at the beach.

“
Well, let
’
s see. The decedent, Allison Bennett, formerly known as Anna Bricker, married one Jeffrey Bricker and bore a half dozen children to him, right?
”

“
Right.
”

“
Mr. Bricker may have many flaws
—
and judging from Mr. Alverson
’
s brief, not to mention news reports, some of them are real doozies
—
but lifelessness doesn
’
t appear to be one of them. That is, the children have a father. Who is living. And who, it appears, takes under an earlier will. Unless you know something I don
’
t know about his vital statistics.
”

Will cleared his throat.
“
We
’
d argue that Anna Bricker repudiated that will, even before she executed the new one. The day she changed her identity and entered the witness protection program she left behind her former life and all its vestiges.
”

“
Poetic. Any support for that in case law, counselor?
”

“
Um, no.
”

The judge opened his mouth to respond but stopped when the door to the courtroom swung inward.

A disheveled, dirty man shuffled into the room. He smiled sheepishly and took a seat in the back row of the otherwise empty gallery.

The judge clamped his mouth shut for a moment. He tapped his index finger on the stack of papers, thinking.

Sasha wondered what he
’
d do. The courts were open to the public. It was a cornerstone of the system. Even if Judge Kumpar suspected the man was simply looking for a cool place to rest, he couldn
’
t very well kick him out. But they
’
d have to dance around the issue of the Bennett children
’
s identities. It would make drilling down into the issues that much harder
—
not to mention less efficient.

Will shifted and looked at the man over his shoulder. Sasha followed his gaze. He blinked back at them, guileless but nervous.

The judge clapped his hands together, once, to get everyone
’
s attention.

Sasha had seen preschool teachers use the tactic, but never a judge.

“
Given the issues of first impression raised by this case, it
’
s not appropriate for the probate court to act without first addressing the issue of the father
’
s standing.
”

“
Standing to take under the will, Your Honor?
”
Marsh stammered.

“
No. I
’
m afraid we need to begin somewhere much more fundamental: we need to address his parental rights.
”

Judge Kumpar spread his hands apart in a gesture that said
‘
what else can I do?
’

“
I
’
ve already consulted with Judge Perry-Brown, and she
’
s ready for you,
”
the judge explained.

“
Pardon?
”
Will asked in a strangled voice.

“
We
’
ve sort of divvied up the Orphan
’
s Court responsibilities informally. I handle the probate matters, and she handles termination of parental rights and adoptions. Cass Myers does the incapacitation hearings. Carving up the cases into little areas of expertise works well for us. Unfortunately for you, though, that means I have to kick you over to Judge Perry-Brown to determine whether the father
’
s parental rights should be terminated.
”

“
Of course, Your Honor,
”
Sasha murmured.

To her right, Will was nodding along in disappointed agreement. To her left, Marsh was doing a terrible job of hiding his excited relief. Once they got kicked to Judge Perry-Brown, he could go back to his tastefully appointed office and surround himself with codicils and affidavits.

“
But you
’
re in luck. Judge Perry-Brown just moved to a new courtroom and has reserved this morning to deal with setting up her new chambers. So there
’
s nothing on her schedule, and she
’
s agreed to see you now.
”
Judge Kumpar beamed.

“
Thank you, Your Honor,
”
Sasha said, smiling back at him. It wasn
’
t as though he was going to change his mind, so there was no point in pouting.

“
One final question, though, Ms. McCandless. Just so I
’
m clear when this matter returns to probate, will you agree to serve as the trustee?
”