Chapter 13: Sixty-Two Percent

"Calling for what?" I said.

"For money, mostly. Time, when he can't get money."

The old attorney sat down across from me and folded his hands on the folder.

"Ms. Gruber, your father left you a company, and it isn't the one you know."

"He left me a truck and his debts."

"He told you that so nobody would come looking for you while you grieved."

"He was a contractor."

"He was a contractor who sold his firm to a larger builder the year before he died."

He slid a page across the desk.

"The money went into a trust called Gruber Holdings. By his instruction, I could not tell you until you turned thirty."

I looked at the number on the page.

I read it twice, because the first time the zeros did not mean anything.

"Why?" I said. "Why would he hide it?"

"You were twenty-two, you had just buried him, and you trusted everyone."

The attorney said it kindly.

"He said you would be exactly right at thirty."

My throat was tight.

"What does the trust own?"

"Part of several local businesses. One of them is Albrecht Home Group."

I did not move.

"Eight years ago, a friend of your father's brought me a young builder who needed a first investor."

"The silver-haired man at the party," I said.

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