The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Safecracker, written in 2019, is my seventh novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.
Book Blurb
Fred Martin, a 1972 graduate of Boaz High School, returns to his hometown after practicing law and living in Huntsville for over thirty-five years with two goals in mind. First, to distance himself from the loss of Susan, his wife of thirty-seven years who died in 2013 of cancer. And second, to partner with his lifelong friend, Noah Waters, to crack the safes of Elton Rawlins and Doug Barber, two men who got under their skin as high school football players.
Little did Fred and Noah realize the secrets the two old Mosler safes protected. Who murdered three Boaz High School seniors in the fall of 1973? Is a near-half-century-old plan to destroy Fred’s sister and steal the inheritance from a set of 44-year-old illegitimate twins still alive and well? How far would Fred’s mother go to protect her family?
What starts out as an almost innocent prank turns life-threateningly serious the more Fred learns and the more safes he cracks. All the while, he falls in love with Connie Stewart, his one-date high school classmate who may conceal a secret or two herself.
Chapter 47
Tuesday. It was 6:00 a.m. I had just crawled out of bed when my cell phone vibrated on my bedside table. It was Bobby Sorrells.
“Morning Bobby, I assume you’ve been up for two hours or more.”
“That habit is as ingrained as breathing. I get more done between 4:00 and 6:00 o’clock in the morning than the rest of the day. Or, so it seems.”
“What’s up?” I said, knowing Bobby hadn’t called me to chit-chat.
“I have some interesting news for you and thought you might want to meet for breakfast. I’ve been in town since yesterday, mid-afternoon, already met once with Dalton.” I wondered if the two of them had talked about a potential insurance fraud claim.
“I would like that. Where do you want to meet?”
“How about that Huddle House across from the fairgrounds? Say 7:00?”
“That works for me. See you in an hour.”
When I arrived, Bobby was sitting in a booth with his back to the restroom doors. I almost chuckled as I realized we were from the same camp, always thinking about having a lay of the land. I forced myself to sit across from him with my back exposed to the rest of the world, well, at least to the other folks at the Huddle House.
After we ordered, Bobby got right to it. Chit-chat was a pain for both of us. “Your friend Carson Eubanks is about to be a rich man.”
“Apparently Mr. Bobby had found out some very deep secrets. I wasn’t aware I had such a friend.” I said, being overly petty. “Seriously, what do you mean?”
“You were correct. Carson was adopted by a family in Cincinnati. And yes, he is the twin brother of your pastor, Caleb Patterson. Oh, and lest I forget, your sister is the twins biological mother. Congratulations Uncle Fred.” Bobby rarely tried to be funny.
“What’s this rich stuff you mentioned?” I asked right after the waitress left us our food.
“As luck would have it, or fate, or God, or whatever, young Carson drew the best straw. His adopted mother is Nellie Eubanks. Her husband, Carl, died back in the late eighties.” Bobby stopped and ate a whole fried egg and two pieces of toast. While I watched and waited.
“So, what’s so special about Nellie Eubanks?”
After a long draw on his coffee Bobby smiled and said. “Her middle name.”
“You are really making this hard on me. Please spill all the beans. I’m ready.”
“Nellie Eubanks maiden name is Mosler. She is the great-granddaughter of the founder of the Mosler Safe Company. His name was Gustave Mosler. Nellie and her brother, Gus, are the current owners of the entire company.”
“How in the heck did one of Deidre’s twins wind up with such a wealthy family? I assume that’s what you meant when you said Carson was about to be rich.” I said.
“Seems like your great aunt and Nellie were friends. The two of them lived on the same block, which, by the way, was just around the corner from where your grandparents lived. Same neighborhood. I don’t know for sure, but I would guess when Deidre went to live with her great aunt, during your sister’s unplanned pregnancy, she confided in Ms. Nellie. Then, when Deidre delivered twins, there obviously was an extra puppy. Seems Ms. Nellie wanted the runt.”
“Funny. Since Helen Patterson already had dibs on the pick of the litter.” Bobby and I both liked analogies.
“On a sadder note, Ms. Nellie is dying, probably doesn’t have many days to live. Stomach cancer is claiming another one.” My mind was pondering the future of another sick person. Carson himself was sick, possibly terminal. As I ate my waffles I wondered what would ultimately happen to half the Mosler fortune after Carson died. Maybe Bobby should have said, “Your friend Tyler is about to be a rich young man.”
“Question. How do you know that Carson will inherit Ms. Nellie’s estate?” I asked.
“Luck, it couldn’t have been anything else. You as an attorney know that trusts don’t have to be recorded. But, sometimes the maker or settlor of a trust has a compelling reason to let the world know about the normally private estate planning technique. Seems like Ms. Nellie didn’t want there to be any question about the authenticity of her plans. After Carl died in 1989, she had her lawyer prepare a trust. And, she had him record it in Hamilton County, Ohio.”
“I take it Cincinnati is in Hamilton County?” I asked.
“Correct.” Bobby used his last piece of toast to sop up the rest of his runny eggs and hash browns.
“Another question, did you learn all this from the Internet?” I had to know. I couldn’t imagine that all the details Bobby had shared had someway found a home on the world wide web.
“Not a chance. As luck would have it, your luck I might add, I’m working a case in Dayton. I flew to Columbus the day after we spoke and drove down to Dayton. My court testimony was delayed two days, so I decided to save you a buck or two. I drove down to Cincinnati and spent those two days in Seven Hills. That’s a lovely community.” Bobby said, motioning the waitress to refill our coffee cups.
“So, I suppose you did what you like most, reverted back to your true gumshoe days?” I asked.
“The Internet is a valuable tool but there is no substitute for proper use of shoe leather. Problem with that is it is mighty expensive on the one footing the bill.”
“You know I’d be happy to pay. In fact, I insist. You had extra expense even though you were already in Dayton.”
“Hey, what are friends for? Consider it just a small payment on what I owe you. There’s been many a time you’ve answered a legal question for me. I’ve never forgotten.” Bobby was a true gentleman.
I could have stayed and talked another three or four hours, but my schedule wouldn’t allow it. “I hate to say it, but I have an 8:00 a.m. appointment. I’ll have to leave in a few minutes. In the meantime, is there anything else you learned, anything? I was hoping you might stumble on why Carson and Tyler are living in Boaz, especially with the dad working in Huntsville.”
“I was going to let you read it for yourself.” Bobby said, reaching inside his jacket pocket and pulling out an envelope. “Here’s a copy of Ms. Nellie’s trust.”
I opened the sealed envelope and read the title of a rather short trust agreement. It was titled, ‘The Irrevocable Trust of Nellie Mosler Eubanks.’
“Look at page six.” Bobby suggested.
I flipped pages and found Section IX, ‘Distributions.’ Having created quite a few trusts during my legal career I was familiar with the language. In short, if Carson survived Ms. Nellie, he was the sole beneficiary. If she died when he was a minor, then he received the estate in a trust that was created upon her death. That wasn’t the case, since Carson was clearly an adult. The next paragraph shocked me. If Carson predeceased Ms. Nellie, then her estate was to be divided between Caleb Patterson and Deidre Martin, or the survivor of the two of them.
“This is hard to believe. I suspect Ms. Nellie would have known Deidre was Carson’s mother.” I said.
“It’s actually more than that. A neighbor, a woman who looked to be a hundred, Lessie Bouldin, lived straight across the street from Ms. Nellie, told me that she remembered the young Alabama girl visiting the big house.”
“Ms. Nellie’s?” I asked.
“Yep. Before you ask it, the answer is ‘I don’t know.’ Bobby said, kind of curtly.
“What was I going to ask? Forget that. So, you don’t know if Deidre knew for sure that Ms. Nellie adopted Carson?”
“You got it. That’s the question. And I have no answer. But, here’s my guess. It just seems natural that a mother would know who adopted her twin boys.”
“I agree. Gosh, I’m late already. I’ve got to run. Thanks for the information, my friend, and for a copy of the trust. I’ll call you later.”
I left Bobby a twenty-dollar bill and asked him to settle our tab. I walked outside to my car. As I drove to Albertville, all I could think about was how much Ms. Nellie was worth. It had to be millions, but of course, I could be wrong.
The Pencil-Driven Life 