Saltwater in the Bluegrass (24 page)

BOOK: Saltwater in the Bluegrass
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Carlton and Mrs. Kimball were not at their usual post. Katherine was uncertain why they had been written into the will and why they had been asked to join. The house was quiet with a tone of somberness echoing through the halls as the last of the family cars drove down through the tree-lined lane and out of the driveway heading west along River Road.

Sounds of silence in the large conference room were marking the time. Noise and commotion would soon show their nasty little heads and blow in on the reigns of family hatred. It would soon be show time.

Kristina would plan her entrance and guarantee her safety. Katherine would hold her ground. Charlie would stop and have a drink before arriving. Milford was up and getting ready after another night of staying at the stables. As far as he knew, he was just along for the ride.

Carlton was not sure what to think. Mrs. Kimball was worried about the cookie dough she had left on the counter in the kitchen. Thomas and Douglas where drinking coffee and reading the box scores in the sports section as they sat in the back of the limousine, being driven to the meeting from their hotel.

Lamar Jr. was now on his way to the meeting. He had driven down by the river, first stopping at his mother’s gravesite for a few minutes before heading towards town. He would be glad when this was all over.

Inheritance is a funny thing. It resembles the love, guilt, gift, and respect of a person who has just recently passed away, especially to the people who once shared a small part of the dearly deceased person’s life, whether as family members, friends, or mere acquaintances. While some people feel it is their birthright, privilege, or bequest to be given the largest pieces of the leftovers, it is still the dead man’s recipe, and he is given the right to pass around the portions as he sees fit.

Chapter 27

These days it takes more
than a large handful of dirt to bury someone properly, with all the bureaucracy and politics that goes on between families, relatives, loved ones, and friends.

Lamar Baxter Ingram’s family was no different, at least not from the national average of people who sit around waiting for their ship to come in at the expense of someone’s misfortunes or demise. As for the Ingram family, there was more dirt being slung in the law offices of Reynolds, Reynolds, Burton & Young that morning than dirt used to fill Lamar’s grave site one week prior. John Reynolds, the senior partner of the Louisville-based law firm that represented Lamar was already in the boardroom. Along with John Reynolds were two of his associates, Jennifer Bell and Betty Wheeler, who had helped find the family members, friends, and associates that were listed by Lamar to be present for the reading. By ten twenty a.m., people began arriving and filing into the large conference room.

The room was decorated in mahogany and lined in marble with designer rugs from the Middle East, and in the center of the room was a long oval table with gold trim that could comfortably seat thirty people.

One by one, each person called to attend the meeting arrived. Stepping from the elevators, each person made their way down the hallway.

The offices were eclectic and the walls diverse to the masses of people that worked here, displaying the top fifty basketball players of all time from both the University of Kentucky and the University of Louisville.

Each member of the family strolled into the office with their own legal entourage, people ready to pounce on whoever got the biggest piece of the pie. Plans, if needed, were to call foul and then file injunction after injunction and appeal after appeal, or any other type of petition that would fit, in order to overturn the action of the will and reallocate the assets of one Lamar Ingram to their client. It was a beautiful thing in the eyes of John Reynolds: these people showing up for the reading of the Lamar’s last will and testament, all here on such a picturesque spring day and knowing that each one of them were completely over their grieving process. It was obvious that no remorse was going to show up in this room today.

In the corner of the room, to the left of the window, a paralegal and staff member would sit. Against the back wall coffee, juices, bagels, muffins, and fruit was placed for everyone to enjoy.

John Reynolds had noticed throughout his years that fasting was not one of the many customs of people who were soon to be a little, if not a lot, richer within the hour. Usually they could eat like a horse, and most did.

There was still twenty minutes before the meeting was to commence.

Each time the door opened it seemed everyone in the room competed to be the first to see who was walking in and then wondering to themselves why that person was invited here. It was normal. John Reynolds had seen it on many occasions; not this elaborate, but normal.

Today it was a family gathering for the rich. No one in the group knew any different. This was the way they were raised. No one in the room would ever be wiser for going through it.

Katherine showed up
first. She set up camp at the south end of the table in hopes of showing her dominance and structure for detail. In her eyes, she was still the head of the Ingram family, and she would always sit at the head of the table. Second to arrive was Charlie Ingram, the only brother of Lamar.

Charlie had run home to change after car shopping. He did not want to be overdressed for the meeting. He was now wearing a Kentucky Wildcats sweatshirt, khaki shorts, and sandals. Without raising her head, Katherine looked up above the rim of her dark designer glasses to acknowledge Charlie’s arrival.

“I see you still dress up for important events,” she said.

“Glad you take such interest in my life, big sister,” Charlie shot back.

“Haven’t I always?” Katherine said.

Within a few minutes of Charlie arriving, Carlton and Mrs. Kimball, the butler and housemaid, showed up, stirring a nervous twitch in Katherine’s side as she wondered what they were doing there.

“Good morning everyone,” said Mrs. Kimball.

“Good morning, Carlton, Mrs. Kimball,” said Charlie. Katherine just looked up and thought to herself, do these people really believe this is a social gathering? Do they think I need to speak to either of them? Besides, why are they not at home cleaning or polishing something? I should fire both of them right now. The next two people to enter the room were Thomas Chandler and Douglas Richards. These were two of Lamar’s closest friends and Ingram associates. Then Mary Virginia, Lamar’s administrative assistant for the last twenty-three years, showed up, and after her, Milford.

By now, Katherine was beside herself. She couldn’t believe this.

“What is this? Why are all these people here?” she said out loud, as if everyone in the room was waiting on her every word.

“Mrs. Ingram,” John Reynolds said, “everyone here has been named in the will along with you, and there are still a few others who have not shown up yet. We will start the reading in fifteen minutes, at approximately eleven o’clock, or as soon as the others we are waiting for show up.”

Katherine never was one for letting someone else get in the last word, so abruptly she spoke up. “What kind of place are you running here anyway? I’ve never seen such lack of professionalism.”

Most people who knew Katherine would just let it pass, knowing she was just that way. John Reynolds, the head of the law firm, on the other hand, looked at Katherine’s two attorneys sitting beside her and said, “Control your client gentlemen, or I will hold off the reading of this will until she is removed from my office. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

At five minutes till eleven, five minutes before the meeting was to start, the door opened and Lamar Jr. walked in. He walked around the room in a clockwise direction. As he took a seat beside Charlie, he gestured his hello to each person sitting around the table.
It was now eleven o’clock,
and the meeting was ready to begin. The door opened and three associates of the firm walked into the conference room, each carrying a large box of documents. As directed, the associates had kept the prepared papers out of the room until John Reynolds was ready to start.

The first order of business was to call the roll. John Reynolds needed to see if everyone was present or at least represented by counsel, everyone his office had contacted. He scrolled down the list in pinpoint fashion, with the accuracy of a seasoned veteran, making an appropriate check beside each name as the attendees answered. Within seconds, he made it down to the last name on the list.

“Mrs. Kristina Ingram. Does anyone know why she is not present for the reading?”

At first the room stayed quiet.

“I doubt very much if we will be seeing her here today,” Katherine offered. It was as if she knew something that no one else did.

“That’s funny. I talked with her yesterday,” John Reynolds said, shooting straight back at Katherine across the room, a smile now coming from the corners of his mouth.

Katherine’s eyes opened wide. She turned to look at the gentlemen to the left of her, as if she did not believe what had just been said. She then turned to stare down at the papers in front of her. Suddenly, the door opened. The room was once again buzzing with chatter.

“I’m here everyone. I’m here.”

Kristina walked in with her three bodyguards. Each man who looked to be the illustrious predecessors of the 1990 Cincinnati Red’s pitching staff of Rob, Randy, and Norm, notoriously known as “The Nasty Boys.” Beside them, a little weasel of a man in a store-bought, pinstripe suit and carrying a leather briefcase walked in.

“Hello, Katherine. You were not going to start this little party without me, were you?” Kristina asked with an up-yours gesture towards Katherine.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir” Kristina said, marching over to John Reynolds and shook his hand.

“Hello, Katherine,” Kristina said. “You didn’t think I would make it, did you?”

“What do you mean?” Katherine replied.

“Hello, everyone,” Kristina said smiling. “Oh, by the way, Katherine, ever gone swimming in a canal?”

Veins began noticeably pumping up and down along the Katherine’s neck.

“This is just a lovely day to be alive,” Kristina said, turning back to the group.

On that, Kristina took her place at the table along with the others. No one had heard from Kristina since Lamar’s death. She had simply vanished into thin air. Katherine was not amused; especially in the fact that her men had failed to put Kristina to sleep, permanently.

“Shall we get started, then?” John Reynolds asked. He walked over to the opened door and shut it. “First things, first, and please make sure each one of you understand this: I am not the enemy here. I am only the messenger.” He turned quickly, his head casting a look towards everyone in the room. He then slowed, making individual eye contact with each person. “Does everyone understand? I am here, along with my colleagues, only to serve the wishes of your brother, your husband, your father, and your friend. I’m not here for you or the thoughts you might wish to make apparent. Does everyone understand that?”

John waited as he looked around the room for a response from everyone. “Now, the first order of business today is to understand the vast complexity of this will. It is not easy for a person to sit down and write out a last will and testament. If you will take out your packets, open them, and I will begin reading from Lamar’s last wishes.”

Chapter 28

“I, Lamar Baxter Ingram,
living in Jefferson County, Kentucky, at 1 Ingram Hills Drive, Louisville, Kentucky, and being of sound mind and disposing memory, do hereby declare and make this my Last Will and Testament. I revoke any and all former wills or acts in the nature of such previously made by me.

“March 31, 2007

“Lamar Baxter Ingram”

Over a period of the next fifteen minutes, the lawyers read over debts, taxes, and administration expenses while everyone else in the room was here for one reason and one reason only. They were here to find out by how much and when Lamar was going to make their life better. Most were only interested in the clause of the will that pertained to specific gifts.

The memorandum regarding personal and household effects, disposition of automobiles, tangible personal property, along with the memorandum on Lamar’s residuary estate property, his personal and family trust, and his payment to beneficiaries.

John Reynolds stepped in at this point, shutting the will, and began reading from an additional statement that Lamar had drafted:

“As each person is announced in the following pages and their inheritance is read, I would like for that person to then remove him or herself from the meeting and leave. What I give the people remaining is for their ears only.”

“Now let us return to the reading,” John Reynolds said.

“To Mrs. Kimball, I first want to thank you for your kindness around our unkind house for all these years. I appreciate your serving our family. To you I leave a $25,000.00 check and two round-trip tickets to the destination of your choice.

“To Carlton, I hired you, and I am firing you. You make lousy coffee. Take this Check for $250,000.00 dollars and go buy some worms and go fishing. I love you, old man. Take care.

“To Mary Virginia, my devoted assistant for all these years at Ingram Enterprises, that 2001 360 Spider Ferrari that I drive around town and that you always seem to talk about, well it is yours, and along with that a check for $100,000.00 dollars for putting up with me in the office and keeping Katherine out of my hair. Thank you.”

After each inheritance was read, there was a short pause as that person stood and left the conference room as instructed.

“To my two dearest friends, associates, and lifelong golfing and hunting buddies:

“First, Thomas Chandler, I have set aside a trust for you to have a lifetime membership in the country club of your choice, anywhere within the United States. This includes the membership, the initiation fee, and all monthly fees and dues for as long as you live. Along with this, I give you my condo in Myrtle Beach. Tee it up and hit it long and straight for me. Oh, by the way, Tommy, you know those two courtside tickets in Rupp Arena for the Kentucky Wildcats basketball games, they’re now yours to enjoy, too. Go Big Blue.

BOOK: Saltwater in the Bluegrass
8.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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