Arthur Nelson Protected His Wyoming Mountain Cabin with a Trust
Cornelius did not know that I had been to Rebecca’s office. He did not know that the irrevocable trust was nearly ready, or that I had found the hardware store receipt in his jacket.
He still thought he was holding all the cards.
I gripped the steering wheel as I pulled onto the dirt road leading to the cabin.
The bank manager, a young man named Donald Grier, looked at his screen and then back at me. His office smelled of stale carpet cleaner and damp coats.
The freeze came through from our regional processing center in Cheyenne at eight forty-five this morning, Donald Grier said.
He tapped a yellow pencil against his desk calendar.
There is a conflicting claim on the secondary savings account, filed by a legal representative in Denver, he said.
I did not authorize any claim, I said.
The document they submitted has your signature on a general power of attorney, dated three months ago, Grier said.
