Chapter 2 - What Dad Left Behind
I read the sentence twice.
Then a third time.
DO NOT TRUST YOUR BROTHER.
Marcus tried to laugh.
It came out wrong.
“Dad was sick.”
Samuel looked at him. “Your father was medically evaluated when these documents were prepared.”
“I didn’t ask you.”
“No,” Samuel said. “But you’re going to hear me anyway.”
The room had changed.
Ten minutes earlier Marcus had owned it emotionally. He had been loud enough to make everyone else uncertain.
Now he stood surrounded by people who were no longer looking at me.
They were watching him.
I continued reading Dad’s letter.
Elena, I owe you an apology. You spent years protecting me from worry while I spent years protecting your brother from consequences. I called it helping him. I was wrong.
My throat tightened.
I remembered every rescue.
Marcus’s failed restaurant.
The unpaid taxes.
The luxury car Dad secretly paid off.
The investment losses.
Every time Marcus created a disaster, Dad quietly cleaned it up.
I had argued with him.
Dad always gave the same answer.
“He’s my son.”
As if I wasn’t his daughter.
The letter continued.
Three years ago I began noticing withdrawals I did not authorize. At first I believed they were bookkeeping errors. They were not.
Marcus interrupted.
“This is ridiculous.”
The female investigator opened her portfolio.
“Please let her finish.”
He looked at her sharply.
“Who are you?”
“Rebecca Foster, forensic banking investigator.”
“And you think you can come into my father’s house—”
Samuel corrected him.
“Your father’s estate.”
Marcus’s nostrils flared.
I kept reading.
The withdrawals began small. Five thousand. Twelve thousand. Twenty thousand. Then they increased. Someone accessed accounts using authorization forms bearing my signature.
I looked up.
Marcus’s face was blank.
Vanessa wasn’t.
Her hand had gone to her necklace.
I returned to the letter.
The signatures were not mine.
Aunt Diane gasped.
Raymond shook his head.
“No.”
Marcus pointed at me.
“She did it.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“She handled Dad’s bills!”
Rebecca Foster calmly removed a folder from the safe.
“Mr. Price?”
Samuel nodded.
She broke the seal.
Inside were bank statements.
Dozens.
She placed several on Dad’s desk.
“Mr. Bennett requested a forensic review eight months ago,” she explained.
Dad had known for eight months.
That stunned me.
He had said nothing.
Rebecca pointed to highlighted transactions.
“These transfers originated from three accounts belonging to Daniel Bennett.”
Our father.
“They moved through two intermediary entities before reaching accounts associated with Marcus Bennett Holdings.”
Every person in the room looked at Marcus.
Marcus stared at Rebecca.
“That’s my company, but I didn’t make those transfers.”
“Then perhaps you can explain this.”
She produced copies of authorization forms.
Marcus stepped closer.
His confidence returned for half a second.
“That’s Dad’s signature.”
“No,” Rebecca said. “It isn’t.”
The male investigator opened his case.
“Independent handwriting analysis concluded the signatures were traced from legitimate documents.”
Marcus looked toward Vanessa.
Only for a moment.
But I saw it.
So did Samuel.
Vanessa noticed too.
“Why are you looking at me?” she whispered.
“I’m not.”
“You just did.”
“Vanessa.”
She stepped away.
Something ugly was beginning to crack between them.
I looked back at Dad’s letter.
I wanted to understand why he had hidden this from me.
Then I reached the paragraph that answered the question.
I did not tell you because you would have confronted him. You have always believed truth should be spoken immediately. Marcus survives by preparing lies faster than other people can prepare facts. I needed him to believe I knew nothing.
I closed my eyes.
Dad knew me well.
Too well.
If he had shown me those statements eight months earlier, I would have driven straight to Marcus’s house.
And Marcus would have destroyed whatever evidence remained.
Instead, Dad had played weak.
Confused.
Dying.
Marcus had underestimated him.
Just as he had underestimated me.
The next folder contained property records.
A shell company had attempted to borrow against Dad’s lake property.
Another contained copies of emails.
One subject line caught my attention.
TRANSFER BEFORE HE CHANGES WILL.
Marcus saw it too.
He lunged toward the desk.
One of my cousins blocked him.
“Move!”
“Marcus, stop.”
“That’s private!”
Rebecca looked at him.
“Why would evidence concerning Daniel Bennett’s accounts be private to you?”
Marcus froze.
Nobody needed to say anything.
He had answered the question himself.
Vanessa suddenly sat down.
Her face had gone pale.
I walked toward her.
“Did you know?”
She stared at me.
“No.”
Marcus snapped, “Don’t talk to my wife.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“Shut up.”
Everyone went silent.
Marcus blinked.
“What?”
“I said shut up.”
Her voice shook.
She touched one diamond earring.
“You told me these came from your bonus.”
Marcus’s expression shifted.
“They did.”
“You told me the house renovation came from your bonus.”
“Vanessa—”
“You told me the Cabo trip came from your bonus.”
He moved toward her.
She backed away.
“How much did you take?”
“Nothing!”
Rebecca opened another folder.
“Current documented unauthorized transfers total one million, eight hundred and forty-three thousand dollars.”
Someone whispered, “Jesus.”
Marcus turned toward me.
“This is what you wanted.”
I stared at him.
“You punched me at Dad’s funeral.”
“Because you provoked me!”
“You accused me of stealing money you had already stolen.”
“I didn’t steal anything!”
His voice echoed through the study.
Samuel remained calm.
“Then you’ll have an opportunity to demonstrate that.”
Marcus looked toward the door.
One of the bank investigators was standing near it.
Not blocking him.
Just standing there.
That was enough.
I returned to Dad’s letter.
There was one final paragraph.
Elena, the money matters less than what Marcus became willing to do to keep it. The flash drive contains recordings. Watch them only with Samuel present.
I looked toward the safe.
The black flash drive suddenly seemed heavier than everything else inside.
Marcus saw where I was looking.
His face changed again.
This time there was no hiding it.
“What recordings?” Raymond asked.
Marcus answered too quickly.
“There aren’t any.”
Samuel looked at him.
“How would you know?”
Marcus said nothing.
I reached inside the safe.
My fingers closed around the flash drive.
Marcus moved.
Not toward me.
Toward the door.
“Marcus?” Vanessa said.
“I’m leaving.”
Samuel’s voice remained level.
“You are free to leave.”
That surprised him.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Marcus looked around suspiciously.
Samuel added, “But I recommend you understand that leaving will not make these records disappear.”
Marcus stared at me.
The hatred in his eyes was colder than the rage at the funeral.
“You think Dad loved you more.”
“No.”
“That’s what this is.”
“No, Marcus.”
“You always hated me.”
I felt strangely calm.
“I spent half my life cleaning up after you.”
“Nobody asked you.”
“Dad did.”
His face tightened.
I held up the flash drive.
“And apparently he finally stopped.”
Marcus walked out.
Vanessa didn’t follow.
That was the first fracture.
The second came ten minutes later.
Rebecca was organizing the financial documents when Vanessa approached me.
Her hands were trembling.
“There’s something you need to know.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She glanced toward the hallway where Marcus had disappeared.
“Three months ago, Marcus asked me to witness Dad’s signature on something.”
Samuel immediately turned.
“What document?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Daniel sign it in front of you?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.”
The room became very quiet.
Samuel stepped closer.
“What exactly did Marcus ask you to do?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“He gave me a document that already had Daniel’s signature on it. He said his father had forgotten to get it witnessed.”
My stomach dropped.
“What did you do?”
Vanessa looked ashamed.
“I signed it.”
Samuel’s face hardened.
“What kind of document?”
“I only saw the top.”
She closed her eyes.
Then she whispered two words.
“Power of attorney.”
I looked toward Dad’s empty chair.
May you like
Suddenly, the stolen money was no longer the only thing in the room.
Someone had tried to obtain control over Dad himself.
