“Whoopee. Go on.”

“In a Liechtenstein trust, the donor may dictate precisely when, to whom and how the trust funds will be distributed to the named beneficiaries. By law, the trustees must abide by the terms of the trust. They are permitted to tell the beneficiaries only what the donor has instructed them to tell, and nothing else.”

Pat Oberlin leaned back in her chair and gave Ashley an astute look. “You’re telling me this for a reason, aren’t you?”

Ashley smiled coolly. “Because you asked.”

“Right.”

“Well, that’s it. Basically, that’s what a Liechtenstein trust is.”

“Tell me about your Liechtenstein trust.”

“Oh. Well, it’s pretty straightforward. Piccard Cie retained the services of Parrington, Parrington and Smith, a Park Avenue law firm, and through a private investigator they located my brother and me shortly before our twenty-fifth birthday, when we were to be notified of the existence of the trust.”

“Didn’t they know where the hell you were?”

“Uh-uh.”

“The bank didn’t have your address?”

Piccard Cie only had the names, birth dates and foot and hand prints of the Wakefield twins, nothing else. But Ashley didn’t think You magazine needed to know that. “It’s a common occurrence,” she said, guessing.

“How much money are we talking here?”

“A significant amount.”

“Yeah, right.”

In 1982, Ashley recalled, the principal of the trust was worth approximately thirty-four million U.S. dollars. According to the wishes of their particular donor, she and David were to receive annual payments, consisting of the investment income of the principal, beginning on their twenty-fifth birthday and continuing to them and their heirs in perpetuity. They would never have access to the principal itself, which would continue to be managed by Piccard Cie. Evan Parrington had said that was a clever arrangement, considering U.S. tax laws.

His figures had proven to be conservative, and had fluctuated over the years. But annual payments had never fallen below four million dollars. In general, they were higher.

More details, Ashley decided, that Pat Oberlin didn’t need to know—although, certainly, she would want to.

“This is wild,” the reporter said. “So who set this thing up?”

Ashley hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “You see, Ms. Oberlin, that’s one of the beauties of the Liechtenstein trust—from the donor’s point of view. He or she may remain anonymous to the beneficiaries. The trustees will abide by this.”

“You’re saying you don’t know who made you and your brother millionaires.” Pat Oberlin was obviously just barely containing her excitement.

Ashley smiled, also maintaining her composure. “I’m saying that information is between God and the Swiss banking system.”

The reporter grinned broadly. “Wow. Just…wow.”

Ten minutes after the interview ended, a shaking Ashley Wakefield staggered into Caroline’s cluttered, very functional office. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

Caroline glanced up from her work. “That bad?”

“I must be out of my mind.”

With a heavy sigh, Caroline laid down her pen. “You told that reporter everything, didn’t you?”

Ashley nodded grimly. “Just about.”