“I know.”
He nodded.
“I wish I were here under different circumstances.”
“So do I.”
He sat down.
I remained standing.
“What happened?”
He opened a leather folder.
“Your son called me this morning.”
“I assumed he would.”
“He said several of his payments had been declined.”
“They were.”
“He asked me to intervene.”
I smiled faintly.
“And did you?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“Why not?”
Richard looked directly at me.
“Because I don’t believe you’re doing anything wrong.”
Silence.
Then he opened the folder.
“There are things you need to know.”
He placed a document on the coffee table.
I recognized the account number.
It was the investment account Thomas had left me.
“What about it?”
Richard pointed to the bottom of the page.
“Your son has been listed as an authorized financial agent for several years.”
“Yes.”
“I recommended that arrangement after Thomas died.”
I looked at him.
