Emma and Jack walked out of the elevator into the sleek offices of Baylor and White and let the brisk receptionist know they had a ten o’clock appointment.
“Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, there’s drinks at the coffee bar. Have a seat. Mr. Osborne will be with you shortly.”
Sleep had not found Emma easily. Any rest was transient at best. With so much at risk, she had lain awake for nights worried about what the future might bring. She declined the receptionist’s offer of coffee—she was wound up enough.
“Remember,” Jack whispered. “Let’s hear what they have to say before we start making demands.”
Emma grudgingly shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, I know.”
Mr. White didn’t keep them waiting. “Both your mother’s accountant, Louis Osborne, and financial planner, Raymond Kyle, are here.” He motioned for Emma and Jack to follow him past busy junior associates to a glass-walled conference room.
Introductions were exchanged, and Emma noted no small talk ensued as Mr. White got right to business. “Mrs. Duncan, your mother made some changes to her will in June. I apologize for not having gotten copies sent to the house yet, which is why you couldn’t find it.” He shoved documents toward them.
“What kind of changes?” Emma asked, trying to keep the testiness out of her voice.
The attorney directed them to page seven. “Ruth is no longer giving you any proceeds from the sale of her home in the event of her death. Instead, that money is to be donated to a religious organization she’s listed, The Road to Calvary.”
Emma looked at Jack wide-eyed. “What? It’s not a religious organization. It’s a program, run by a fucking televangelist here in St. Louis. I will contest this will in court!”
Mr. White forced a smile. “I’m sorry this is upsetting to you, but—”
She cut him off and zeroed in on the accountant and Mr. Kyle. “My mother also gave this organization over one hundred thousand dollars in less than eighteen months, Mr. Osborne. And then, we found paperwork that she invested two-hundred thousand in a fund called Jesus Saves Investments. Did either of you know about this?”
Mr. Osborne folded his hands. “Only recently was I made aware of your mother’s intentions. After she had given the first one hundred thousand, she asked me if she could comfortably continue contributing—”
“And you didn’t think to stop her?” To her dismay, Emma saw spittle flying out of her mouth.
Raymond Kyle spoke up, his palms open. “I did know of the investing, and I strongly counseled Ruth against it. But, the client has the final say. However, I have additional unfortunate news.”
Jack put a protective arm around Emma’s shoulder, and she fought to keep her voice from cracking. “Let’s have it then.”
Mr. Kyle spread manicured hands over a file. “Three factors converged for a ‘perfect storm’ if you will, to severely impact Mrs. Perkins’s finances. Are either of you familiar with the Enron Corporation and the ensuing collapse?”
Emma knew she’d heard the name somewhere—the news maybe? She frowned and looked at her husband for input.
Jack squeezed her shoulders tenderly as he spoke. “Enron was an energy company that filed for bankruptcy last year. I believe they were the largest American company to ever do so.”
“That’s correct. Your father bought Enron stock in the 1980s when the company was starting out.” Kyle slid a colored graph over to Emma and Jack. “For years, Enron was a superior investment. Orville continued to buy the stock until his death, making him and Ruth millionaires on paper.”
Emma viewed the graph of Enron stock soaring upward until December 2001. She felt her skin becoming wet and clammy, but she nodded for Kyle to continue.
“At the time, I suggested Ruth dump her Enron stock, explaining she would take a substantial loss. Your mother is of the generation where women often didn’t get involved in the financial aspects of things. She insisted that since Orville had been right for such a long stretch, the stock was sure to rebound once Enron was sold. That deal fell through; and by the time Ruth understood the gravity of the situation, the stock was worthless.”
Emma fought back tears. She recalled her mother hadn’t written her first check until after her father died, a process Emma had to school her in. Her bottom lip trembling, she posed a statement and a question. “She never spoke of losing the Enron money to anyone. But I thought she had other investments and her pension from teaching. Is that money gone, too?”
Mr. Osborne’s face was sympathetic. “I am so sorry. I understand this isn’t what you wanted to hear.”
Raymond Kyle’s tan features were troubled. “The news is not going to get better,” he said, his voice solemn. “Up until 2002, Ruth still had a large amount of money in the stock market outside of Enron. Last year was a bear market. She sold off a larger portion of her portfolio than either Louis or I recommended; but in 2003, the market has been on the upswing, and she was making gains. Then we discovered Ruth had taken out two hundred thousand to invest in the religious-based JSI fund you mentioned.”
Emma’s wailing cries interrupted him. “I knew it! Oh, my God, Jack, what has she done?”
Jack enveloped his sobbing wife in his strong arms.
Mr. White poured Emma a glass of water, and she drank it down.
“We believe this entire organization is fraudulent, taking advantage of people,” Jack said, gently rocking Emma back and forth.
Mr. White took notes on a rapidly filling legal pad. “We need the names of others who invested in this fund who can corroborate that the organization is fraudulent. If it’s a Ponzi-type scheme, it could be awhile before other investors come forward. The IRS will review their 501(c)(3) status. We may have a chance at getting some of the funds Ruth donated back. I can’t promise the outcome will be in our favor, but we’ll pursue it.”
Emma dabbed at her moist eyes with a tissue. “How can we do that?”
The lawyer stopped writing for a moment, facing them squarely. “Historically, US law operated on the principle that once a gift was given, it couldn’t be taken back. Around ten years ago that started to change, with some courts giving donors greater control over their gifts, but enforcement varies by state. Let me research this, starting with whether Missouri has a Uniform Trust Code.”
“Even a ballpark figure of the money Ruth has left would be helpful,” Jack said, releasing Emma from his hold.
“We understand the urgency,” Mr. Osborne added. “Raymond and I will begin a thorough accounting of Mrs. Perkins’s assets. The estate isn’t terribly large, so we’ll have numbers to you in a matter of days.”
Emma realized she was panting. Grabbing Jack’s hand again, she thanked the men. “The state of my mother’s finances has been a great shock. I’m desperately hoping you find more money.”