W is for Wasted (Kinsey Millhone 23)

“What can I do for you?”

“I find myself in a peculiar situation and I need help.”

“Well, you came to the right place. What’s up?”

I removed Dace’s will from my shoulder bag and passed it across the desk to her.

The document was only four pages long. She took her time, leafing back and forth through the pages until she grasped the whole of it. She placed the document on the desk in front of her. “Nice. I take it the two of you were close.”

“We’re related, but I never met the man,” I said.

“Well, I guess that pretty much eliminates any claim by his three kids that you exercised ‘undue influence’ over dear old Dad,” she said. “What’s the nature of your relationship?”

“I’m guessing we’re second cousins, though I haven’t had that confirmed. I know my grandparents’ names, but aside from that I know nothing about my father’s side of the family. This has come as a complete surprise.”

I gave her an abbreviated version of the story, which sounded just as preposterous in summary as it would have if I’d stopped to spell it out. I gave her a thumbnail account of his conviction for felony murder and his subsequent exoneration, the $600,000 settlement, and his falling-out with his kids. Fortunately, Burke Benjamin was smart and she’d doubtless been exposed to stories just as bizarre. Toward the wrap-up, I said, “I don’t know what happened when Dace last saw his kids. According to Dandy, who was one of the three witnesses to the will, Dace showed up at Ethan’s door shortly after he got out of prison. He thought he could make amends, but he was stonewalled.”

“So he got his back up and disinherited all three of them?”

“That’s what he told Dandy. Again, I don’t know them and I have no idea what the family dynamic was.”

“He was a Santa Teresa resident?”

“As I understand it, yes. He lived in Bakersfield for years before he went to prison. After his aborted reunion with his kids, he headed to Santa Teresa in hopes of finding me. Apparently, he loved it here. He told Dandy this was it. He had no intention of living anywhere else.”

“Homeless though he was,” she said.

“Homeless though he was,” I said back to her with a smile.

“Which would make the Santa Teresa Courthouse the proper place of probate administration,” she said. She picked up the will again and glanced at the last two pages. “I see an address for Ethan Dace. What about the other two kids?”

“I don’t have contact numbers for them. I’ve been thinking I’d be smart to drive to Bakersfield to deliver the news in person. I’m hoping Ethan can put me in touch with Ellen and Anna.”

“I’d put that item at the top of the list. You’re required to give proper legal notice to the children. That’s essential. They can be served by mail or by personal delivery with the notice of hearing. In fact, I’d send the full package—the notice and the petition for probate with all attachments, including the will.”

“Even if I’m sole beneficiary?”

“Especially if you’re sole beneficiary. The will states he’s deliberately omitting his three kids, but that’s subject to challenge. The notice gives them the opportunity to attend the hearing and assert their rights, should they choose to do so. You’ll also have to publish the notice of petition to administer estate in the Santa Teresa Dispatch. That’s something you can mail to the legal publication department of the paper. Even though he states he has no debts, the notice of petition will advise any other interested parties that they can serve the representative of the estate with a written request of special notice when the inventory, appraisement, and petition for final distribution are filed.”

I held up a hand. “You mentioned a hearing.”

“Good point. Let me back up and talk you through this. Where’s the body currently?”

“The coroner’s office.”

“Have him moved to a mortuary and they’ll provide you with six to ten copies of the death certificate so you can wind up his affairs. You’ll also have to notify the Social Security Administration, but that’s not pressing at this point. You’ll want to go over to the superior court and pick up a couple of forms, the first of which is a petition, which asks two things: to have the will entered into probate and for a representative to be appointed. You, in this case, since that’s what Dace specified in his will.”

“The guy didn’t do me any favors,” I said. “What else are we talking here?”