“So, then perhaps you can understand my confusion. It’s my understanding all of Charles Callahan’s assets have been frozen until they can figure out which funds were acquired legally—if any—and restitution has been made.”
“Yes, that’s correct. But I’m not referring to his estate, Miss Callahan. I’m referring to your mother’s . Mahalia Rivera was your mother, was she not?”
“Yes...” I stretch the word out. “But she didn’t have any assets. I was a joint owner on her only bank account, and she had less than a hundred dollars to her name when she died.”
Mr. Jacoby clears his throat, a little louder this time. “Miss Callahan, I believe you’re mistaken. Your mother is the sole owner of several large investment accounts, and she listed you as the sole beneficiary of those accounts. Combined, her total estate is currently valued at two hundred and sixty-two million dollars, give or take.”
“What?!” Now it’s my turn to sputter. “How is that possible? ”
Kingston’s eyes widen. “Mr. Jacoby, my name is Kingston Davenport. I’m sitting here with Jazz... uh, Jasmine. May I ask you a few questions?”
“Miss Callahan, is it okay to speak freely in front of Mr. Davenport?” he asks.
“Yes, anything,” I confirm.
“In that case... please proceed, Mr. Davenport.”
“When were these investment accounts originally opened?”
It sounds like the attorney is flipping through some papers. “Throughout a two-year window, approximately sixteen to eighteen years ago. They were each opened with exactly ten million dollars and have grown substantially over the years since.”
“Hold on again, please.” Kingston presses the mute button and turns to me. “He was hiding assets in her name. If she did sign anything to open those accounts, it might have been under duress, or she didn’t know what she was signing. If she didn’t know those accounts existed, Charles would’ve still had full access to them to do anything he pleased, as long as he did it online.” Kingston unmutes the call. “Can you tell us if any funds were added over the years?”
“Yes. There were many occurrences. I have quarterly statements from the last seven years. You’re welcome to review them when you come in to sign the appropriate paperwork.”
“Mr. Jacoby, I’ll have to call you back.”
“But—”
I end the call before he has a chance to finish his sentence.
“That’s blood money, Kingston. I don’t want anything to do with it. Why would he leave that money to me?”
“I think in his own fucked up way, he loved you and to Charles, money talks. Maybe this was his way of telling you that.”
“I don’t want his dirty money!”
“Now, hold up a sec,” he says. “What else are you going to do? Hand it over to the feds?”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do!” I throw my hands up. “Do you have another suggestion?”
He smiles. “I do.”
“What?”
“You can donate it to charities... victims of sex trafficking. Or we can start a new foundation. Think of what good all that money can do, Jazz. Plus, it’d be one helluva fuck you to Charles.”
“I don’t know...”
Kingston grabs my hand. “Just think about it, okay? If you take the money, you can ensure it goes directly to victims at the hands of people like our fathers. Hell, maybe even our fathers directly. Those women—and some men—can get therapy, have help transitioning back into society. It could even fund private organizations that hunt and dismantle trafficking rings. There’s a lot that money can do. Will you at least consider it?”
I think about it for a moment. “Okay.”
“Okay, you’ll consider it?”
I shake my head. “No. Okay, I’ll do it. But you have to help me find reputable places for it to go. I want to make sure every dime is given directly to victims in some way.”
“I’ll be with you every step of the way, Jazz.”
“Well, I guess I should call him back and set an appointment to sign those papers, huh?”
Kingston picks up my phone and hands it to me. “And as soon as you’re done, we’ll start researching charities.”
I nod. “Deal.”
*
“What do you think, kiddo?” Kingston sets Belle down inside her new room and watches as she jumps onto her new bed.
“I love it!” she squeals. “It’s all mine?”
I smile. “All yours, sweetheart. Anytime your daddy says you can have a sleepover, this is where you’ll stay.”
Belle runs around her room, checking everything out. “I wish I could live here forever!”
I tilt my head to the side. “But wouldn’t you miss your daddy?”
Belle looks away and shrugs. “I dunno. Daddy isn’t very nice, and now Monica’s gone.”
“What do you mean, Monica’s gone? When did that happen?” I take a seat on the oversized pink chair in the corner of her room. “Come sit with me, sweetheart, and tell me what happened.”
Belle climbs onto my lap. “I heard Monica yellin’ at him about kissin’ the neighbor lady. She never came home from work the other day, and Daddy says she’s not comin’ back ever.”
I sigh. I knew it was only a matter of time before Jerome screwed up that relationship. “I’m sorry, honey. If you ever need to talk about it, we can FaceTime any time you want, day or night, okay?”
She frowns. “Do I hafta go back? Can’t I just live with you and Kingston here at the beach?”
I give her a sad smile. “Oh, honey, I wish it were that easy.”
“Hey, princess.” Kingston kneels in front of us and takes Belle’s hand. “If we could make it happen so you could live with us all the time, would you want that? You’d have to switch schools and everything.”
I widen my eyes, giving Kingston a what the hell are you doing? look. The attorney told us only a week ago that it’ll be a long, drawn-out process.
“Yes!” Belle nods. “My teacher is a meanie-butt anyway, so I don’t care if I hafta get a new one.”
Kingston laughs as he kisses Belle on the forehead and does the same to mine. “I’ll be back in a little while, okay? I have to run an errand.”
I eye him with suspicion. “What kind of errand?”
He winks. “It’s a surprise.”
When Kingston returns several hours later, Belle is sleeping on the couch, with Ainsley snoring lightly beside her. We built sandcastles and played on the beach with Ainsley for a while before the three of us came inside and had a princess movie marathon. Neither one of them made it halfway through the first movie before they crashed.
“Hey,” I whisper, not wanting to wake the girls.
“Hey,” he whispers back. “Come talk to me out on the back deck.”
I carefully extricate myself from Belle’s grip and meet Kingston outside.
“Come sit with me, baby.” He pats the empty spot on the lounger.
I settle between Kingston’s spread legs and lie back on his chest. The sun already set, so we listen to the waves crashing against the shore for a few moments before he speaks.
“So... I did a thing.”
I twist around to face him. “What kind of thing?”
“I went to see Jerome.”
“What? Why?”
“After what Belle said earlier... I thought about something. I’m surprised it didn’t cross my mind earlier, but I had a hunch, and I wanted to see if I was right.”
“About what?”
“To see if Belle’s father was interested in a private custody negotiation.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve been paying him for our weekly visits with her, right?”
“You’ve been paying him,” I correct.
Kingston pinches my side. “As I said, we’ve been paying him for weekly visits, right? So it got me thinking. What if he took one lump sum payment, and we’d get to have her every day?”
“I’m not following, Kingston.”
“I talked to Sandra on the drive. She confirmed that if Jerome forfeited his parental rights, as Belle’s only remaining relative, you could petition to be her legal guardian. Now that you’re a legal adult, and you have financial and home stability, there’s no reason the court should deny your request. Sandra said she could file an emergency petition to have temporary custody awarded to us while all the legal stuff is processed.”