Mr. Davenport pulled out a chair from the massive table then eased into it. Lizzie and I chose two across from him.
After I made the introductions, I said, “Thank you for seeing us. As I mentioned on the phone, Lizzie has a problem with the trustee of her father’s estate. We suspect he’s taken off with her inheritance. We’d like to know what her legal options are.”
She fiddled with the chain of her necklace between her forefinger and thumb. “I’ve contacted the attorney in Florida who set up my parents’ estate, but he hasn’t returned my calls. And I’m in Boston trying to find the man who stole my money.”
“Do you know for certain he has?” Interest splashed over Mr. Davenport’s face.
She sucked on her cheek. “He hasn’t deposited my monthly allowance, and he didn’t pay my college tuition at the beginning of the semester. When I went to his house, he’d apparently moved out. At least that’s what his neighbor told me.”
Mr. Davenport mulled something over. Then he said, “Mr. Maxwell, you want a job here this summer, correct?”
I nodded. “This isn’t about me, though.” I did want to prove that I wasn’t just some naked model. But out of the five law firms I’d submitted my résumé to the year before, Davenport’s law firm had name recognition and was known for helping clients who lived in other states. Which could help move things along more quickly for Lizzie.
“Tell you what. Prove to me that I should hire you. Research the estate laws in Florida. You can use the law library here. Once you have some answers, then we’ll sit down and talk.”
“What?” Lizzie’s voice was high, grinding like nails on a chalkboard. “Kelton isn’t a lawyer. You are. Time is critical here. Why can’t you just give me advice?” Her body was rigid. “I need my money.”
The law moved slowly, on lawyers’ and judges’ time. But I empathized with her frustration.
“Ms. Reardon, I wasn’t finished.” Mr. Davenport gentled his professional tone. “First, my advice today won’t get you any closer to getting your money back today or even next week.”
A muscle ticked in Lizzie’s jaw as her breathing sped up.
“And while Mr. Maxwell is doing his research, I’ll draft a letter to the attorney in Florida asking for a copy of the estate documents. I need to understand what’s in those.” He opened his hands in a dramatic fashion. “Unfortunately, it’s not that easy to remove a trustee from an estate. We need facts. The good news is, as a beneficiary, you are entitled to know every detail about your parents’ estate. You should also know if the trustee has been complying with his duties set forth in the legal documents. But again, the process will take time.”
“So what you’re saying is I won’t get my money back.” Her face reddened.
Mr. Davenport clasped his hands together on the table. “One way to get to the bottom of this matter is to find the man and ask him for the accounting documents on the estate.”
Accounting or not, Terrance needed to be removed as the executor. I settled my hand on her thigh, hoping to ease her anxiety before she combusted. “Can we use the library this afternoon?” While my exercise in Florida law wasn’t the silver bullet to Lizzie’s problem, I wanted her to feel like I was doing something to help her. I wanted to feel like I was doing something to help her. I was confident Mr. Davenport was well versed in Florida estate law. He was right, though. We did need to find Terrance Malden.
“Sure.” He stood. “I have a client meeting I have to run to. I’ll have my secretary show you to the library. Ms. Reardon, please give my secretary all the information on your attorney. I’ll get the letter out to him ASAP. And Mr. Maxwell, make an appointment with me for next Thursday. I should have the documents from Ms. Reardon’s lawyer by then.”
We made a bathroom stop, then Mr. Davenport’s secretary, a short middle-aged lady, escorted Lizzie and me to the library.
“My name is Bonnie, and I’m just down the hall to your right if you need anything,” she said, leaving us alone.
With a slow shake of her head, Lizzie took in the stacks of bookcases and law books on all but one wall. When I’d worked for Brady, Schlenk, and Schiel, I’d spent the majority of my time in their library, although it wasn’t as big as this one.
“How do you find anything in this place?” she asked.
“If it’s like the last one I worked in, the books should be organized by the type of law.” I wound my way around eight small library tables.