After a few minutes, Jax reappeared in the doorway. She gave Alex the all-clear. He holstered his gun and hopped out of the truck, pulling his jacket down over the weapon. Jax started ushering the people back into the room, then stood just outside the door, waiting for him while she watched them like a sergeant at arms.
As Alex joined her, she put an arm around his waist. “They don’t look like a dangerous lot,” she whispered.
“That’s what we’re hoping.”
“But that doesn’t mean they aren’t.”
“I know.”
48.
AS ALEX STEPPED INTO THE ROOM behind Jax, all eyes were on them. The two-room suite was larger than the typical motel room. The two beige couches forming an L at the corner of the front showed discoloration from heavy use. A round table with half a dozen chairs sat at the back.
None of the furniture was especially elegant, but it was comfortable-looking. There was a wet bar beside a TV in a tall cabinet opposite the couches. Through double louvered doors that stood open to the right he could see the edge of a bed in the other room.
The nine people standing in a cluster in the center of the room were all grins. They looked like devout worshippers about to meet the Pope.
“I’m Mike Fenton,” a rather thin man said as he stepped forward, thrusting out his hand.
He was shorter than Jax, balding, and wearing jeans that still had the fold marks in them from coming right off the rack. His gray-and-blue-striped, long-sleeved shirt likewise looked to have been freshly unwrapped. He was grinning from ear to ear.
Alex shook the man’s hand. “Alex. It’s nice to meet you face-to-face, at last.”
Still gripping Alex’s hand, Mike swept his free arm around, indicating the rest of the people in the room. “We’re all so relieved that you arrived safely. And you would have to be Jax.”
“I am,” she said as she shook his hand. He held her hand respectfully, gazing into her eyes as if welcoming an alien from another planet to his world. Alex supposed that he was.
Alex was so focused on evaluating everyone as Mike introduced them that he knew he wouldn’t remember all their names. None of them looked like a pirate. They were all wearing new clothes that to a greater or lesser extent still bore new-clothes folds. They had apparently followed Alex’s instructions and had not gone to their homes or any place familiar.
Mike gestured to the table in the back, where papers were neatly laid out. “How about if we get business out of the way first? Get the title to the land taken care of so that everything is finalized and legal?”
“I’d like that,” Alex said.
“Do you have the fee?”
Alex pulled an envelope from an inside pocket of his jacket. He handed it to Mike.
“There’s ten thousand even.”
“It came to ninety-six hundred and seventy-five dollars.”
The man opened the envelope and counted back three one-hundred-dollar bills. He then fished around in his pocket and came up with a twenty and a five. He handed them over as well.
“There. Paid in full.”
Alex folded the money and slipped it into a pocket. “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s going on with this money issue?”
Everyone chuckled self-consciously.
“Well, it’s rather hard to explain, and there are much more important things to deal with, but briefly it has to do with traditions involving this land and the way it has been deeded. The simplest way to explain it is ‘value for value.’ Stipulations having to do with the title require conventions that can seem a little odd at a time like this, but they have a serious purpose and must be followed to the letter. Payment for services is one of those stipulations.”
Alex was in a way only too happy to use the money that Sedrick Vendis had paid to buy his paintings just so that he could deface them. It seemed like ironic justice to use that money to pay for the legal fees to get the land that Vendis and Cain so badly wanted.
“But now that the fee is out of the way,” Mike said, “we can get on with it.”
At the man’s urging, Alex sat before a stack of papers and folders. Jax stood behind him, her back to the wall. Mike sat beside Alex as all the others gathered round to watch. It had the feeling of a grand ceremony.
The lawyer opened the top folder. “All of these need to be signed where I’ve indicated with little red stickers.”
Alex eyed the inch-thick stack. “Shouldn’t I read all of these?”
“You’re welcome to do so, and as a lawyer I must advise that you do, although I can assure you that I’ve been over everything, personally, and it’s all in order. I’d be happy to explain any of it you find difficult to understand.”
Alex picked up the pen. He scanned the first and second pages that were stapled together. They had to do entirely with identifying the parties involved in the rest of the paperwork. It took two pages to say that he was Alex Rahl and that the Daggett Trust was the Daggett Trust.
Alex started signing his name.
Mike Fenton lifted away each page after Alex had signed it. He scanned the next page, really only looking for anything that stood out as odd. Everything looked like what he imagined normal deed transfers would look like. With people wanting to run guns through a gateway to another world, the legal technicalities of the land where the gateway sat didn’t seem overwhelmingly important, but Alex scanned them anyway just in case.
But then he started coming to pages having to do with the Daggett Trust. Those pages had nine signatures on them—the nine trustees. Each page awaited Alex’s signature.
“What’s this?” Alex said, frowning at the trustee agreements.
“In essence, it puts you in charge of the Daggett Trust, making you the lead trustee to the land involved in the Daggett Trust—all of it.”
Alex looked up. “What do you mean, all of it?”
“Well,” Mike said, “the part you inherit, and all the rest of the land associated with it—all the land controlled by the Daggett Trust. It all belongs together. This puts you in charge of all of the land as a single entity.”
Alex stared at him. “All of it.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And how much land is that?”
“Altogether? Nearly sixty-five thousand acres.”
Alex was still staring at the man. “And what do you mean that it puts me in charge of the land?”
Mike Fenton folded his fingers together on the table. “Well, for all practical purposes, it all becomes yours once you take title to the key piece. You become the lead trustee. For all practical purposes, this makes you the Daggett Trust. You have to uphold all of the deed stipulations, of course, but it’s all yours.”
“Deed stipulations. You mean like how I can’t build on the land?”
“Well, actually, as lead trustee you can build a place for yourself on the land, seeing as how the property is your responsibility and you will be overseeing it all.”
“And I can’t sell my portion except to the trust.”
“Right.”
“But you said that this, in essence, makes me the trust.”
“That’s right.”
“So, if I wanted to sell—but believe me, I don’t—where would the money come from?”
“Well, let me show you . . .” Mike said as he started shuffling through the file folders.
One of the women, the older, boxy-shaped one, leaned in to help. When Alex looked up at her she smiled.
“I’m Mildred—the accountant for the Daggett Trust. I’m the one who takes care of this aspect of the trust. I’ll be at your disposal, of course, to help with everything.”