down your dad’s old attorney?”
“As soon as we get that drink of tea, I’m on it,” she said.
They had returned from town close to an hour ago and she hadn’t felt like talking with anyone yet. It was time to get this problem solved and hopefully her father’s old attorney would be able to help.
After they had their glasses of tea in hand, they sat at the kitchen table and she tried calling the phone number on the business card. The number was disconnected.
“Let’s try something else.” Kaitlyn went to her bedroom and grabbed her laptop then brought it back to the kitchen table and booted it up. She did a search for Charles S. Tucker in the online phone directory for the valley. “He’s probably retired,” she said when she couldn’t find him in the business directory.
“Hopefully he’s still around,” Wayne said.
She straightened in her seat. “Here’s a Charles S. Tucker in Sonoita.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the number.
It rang six times before a man’s gruff voice answered, “Tucker here.”
“Hi, Mr. Tucker.” Kaitlyn took a deep breath. “I’m Kaitlyn Barrett, George Barrett’s daughter. I believe you were his attorney some years ago.”
“George Barrett.” The man’s voice trailed off. “Yes, yes I do believe he was a client of mine. Been a long time. I’ve been retired for fifteen years. How is your father?”
“He passed away recently,” she said. “That’s in part why I called you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Like I said, however, I’m retired,” the attorney said. “I doubt I could be of any help to you.”
“I’m really sorry to bother you, but I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.” She held the phone tighter. “There’s a problem and you might be the only one who has the answer.”
“And what might that be?”
“When my grandfather passed away,” Kaitlyn said, “he left all of his property and home to his two sons, George and John Barrett.”
“All right,” Mr. Tucker said. “And the problem?”
“My father and uncle agreed to divide the property,” she said. “My uncle’s property was recorded in his name. However there’s nothing recorded to show what my father received out of the split. He left the property to me in the will, but the deed still has my uncle’s name as the property going to him under the right of survivorship. Now a cousin claims it’s all his. My uncle is in a home with dementia, so we’re unable to talk with him about it.”
“I handled a lot of property disputes and transactions,” Mr. Tucker said. “But I’m eighty-five years old. It’s been so long that I don’t have any of those old records and my memory isn’t the same.”
Her heart sank. “Did anyone take over your practice who might still have the records?”
“Handed the practice off to a young man who ran it into the ground.” He snorted. “Sorry to tell you that there isn’t a chance in hell that anything is left.”
Kaitlyn looked at Wayne and shook her head. Nothing.
“Thank you for your time.” She let out a sigh. “I appreciate it.”
“Good luck, young lady,” he said before the call was disconnected.
As she met Wayne’s eyes, she stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “Nothing at all. He doesn’t remember anything about it.” An ache started behind her eyes, but she refused to cry. She’d done enough crying.
Chapter 11
Kaitlyn thought she was going to throw up. It was the fifth day and she had to be out by this evening if the attorney didn’t call with the temporary injunction. Wayne was going to leave to get the storage unit and then help was to come to load it.
She hated to put others out by asking for help, but if she was to be out of here by today she had no choice. Right now the only thing she could realistically do was to temporarily move in with Wayne until she could sort everything out.
It was still early when the phone rang and she saw Mr. Drake’s phone
“As soon as we get that drink of tea, I’m on it,” she said.
They had returned from town close to an hour ago and she hadn’t felt like talking with anyone yet. It was time to get this problem solved and hopefully her father’s old attorney would be able to help.
After they had their glasses of tea in hand, they sat at the kitchen table and she tried calling the phone number on the business card. The number was disconnected.
“Let’s try something else.” Kaitlyn went to her bedroom and grabbed her laptop then brought it back to the kitchen table and booted it up. She did a search for Charles S. Tucker in the online phone directory for the valley. “He’s probably retired,” she said when she couldn’t find him in the business directory.
“Hopefully he’s still around,” Wayne said.
She straightened in her seat. “Here’s a Charles S. Tucker in Sonoita.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the number.
It rang six times before a man’s gruff voice answered, “Tucker here.”
“Hi, Mr. Tucker.” Kaitlyn took a deep breath. “I’m Kaitlyn Barrett, George Barrett’s daughter. I believe you were his attorney some years ago.”
“George Barrett.” The man’s voice trailed off. “Yes, yes I do believe he was a client of mine. Been a long time. I’ve been retired for fifteen years. How is your father?”
“He passed away recently,” she said. “That’s in part why I called you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Like I said, however, I’m retired,” the attorney said. “I doubt I could be of any help to you.”
“I’m really sorry to bother you, but I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.” She held the phone tighter. “There’s a problem and you might be the only one who has the answer.”
“And what might that be?”
“When my grandfather passed away,” Kaitlyn said, “he left all of his property and home to his two sons, George and John Barrett.”
“All right,” Mr. Tucker said. “And the problem?”
“My father and uncle agreed to divide the property,” she said. “My uncle’s property was recorded in his name. However there’s nothing recorded to show what my father received out of the split. He left the property to me in the will, but the deed still has my uncle’s name as the property going to him under the right of survivorship. Now a cousin claims it’s all his. My uncle is in a home with dementia, so we’re unable to talk with him about it.”
“I handled a lot of property disputes and transactions,” Mr. Tucker said. “But I’m eighty-five years old. It’s been so long that I don’t have any of those old records and my memory isn’t the same.”
Her heart sank. “Did anyone take over your practice who might still have the records?”
“Handed the practice off to a young man who ran it into the ground.” He snorted. “Sorry to tell you that there isn’t a chance in hell that anything is left.”
Kaitlyn looked at Wayne and shook her head. Nothing.
“Thank you for your time.” She let out a sigh. “I appreciate it.”
“Good luck, young lady,” he said before the call was disconnected.
As she met Wayne’s eyes, she stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “Nothing at all. He doesn’t remember anything about it.” An ache started behind her eyes, but she refused to cry. She’d done enough crying.
Chapter 11
Kaitlyn thought she was going to throw up. It was the fifth day and she had to be out by this evening if the attorney didn’t call with the temporary injunction. Wayne was going to leave to get the storage unit and then help was to come to load it.
She hated to put others out by asking for help, but if she was to be out of here by today she had no choice. Right now the only thing she could realistically do was to temporarily move in with Wayne until she could sort everything out.
It was still early when the phone rang and she saw Mr. Drake’s phone
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