PART 5 — THE PASSPORT WITH MY FACE

“Mine?”
Marla nodded.
For one second, I honestly thought she had to be mistaken.
Then I walked to Glenn’s abandoned jacket.
Nobody stopped me.
The whole hall had exploded into movement near the front doors as Evan and the groomsmen chased after him, but everything around me felt strangely slow.
I reached into the inside pocket.
My fingers touched something stiff.
A booklet.
Dark blue.
I pulled it out.
United States of America.
Passport.
My hands went numb.
The photograph was mine.
My face.
My gray-streaked hair.
My eyes.
But I had never applied for a passport in my life.
Marla whispered, “Stacey…”
I opened it.
Name: Stacey Ann Miller.
Date of birth: correct.
Place of birth: correct.
My address: correct.
My stomach twisted.
Then I saw the issue date.
Six weeks ago.
“No.”
Sheila came closer.
“What is it?”
I turned it toward her.
She covered her mouth.
Brooke stood from the chair.
Her face changed the instant she saw it.
That told me everything.
“You knew.”
Brooke shook her head.
“No.”
“You knew about this.”
“I didn’t know he actually got it.”
The room around us went silent again.
I looked at her.
“You didn’t know he actually got it?”
Her lips parted.
I stepped closer.
“What did you know?”
She glanced toward the door.
“Brooke.”
She started crying.
“He said he needed identification.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I swear.”
“You have been swearing all night.”
She flinched.
I held the passport up.
“This is my face.”
“I know.”
“My dead husband’s insurance money was almost taken.”
“I know.”
“My house was used as collateral.”
“I didn’t know about the house until later.”
“My signature was forged.”
She looked down.
“And now someone made a government document in my name.”
She whispered, “Dad said it was just backup.”
“Backup for what?”
She had no answer.
Raymond Pike returned from the front doors.
“He got away.”
Evan came in right behind him.
His tie was gone now.
His jacket was open.
His face was red with anger.
“He had another car waiting.”
Sheila stared at him.
“What?”
Evan shook his head.
“Black SUV behind the service entrance.”
Raymond looked at the passport in my hand.
His expression changed instantly.
“Where did you get that?”
“His jacket.”
He walked over.
“May I?”
I hesitated.
Then handed it to him by the edges.
He examined it without touching the photograph.
“This is serious.”
Evan laughed bitterly.
“Everything tonight is serious.”
Raymond looked at me.
“Do you have a passport?”
“No.”
“Have you ever applied for one?”
“No.”
“Ever reported one lost or stolen?”
“No.”
He looked at Brooke.
“Who obtained this?”
She whispered, “I don’t know.”
Evan snapped.
“You know something.”
She shook her head.
“I know Dad talked about leaving.”
Sheila went still.
“Leaving where?”
Brooke said nothing.
“Where?”
“Florida.”
Sheila’s face twisted.
“Of course.”
Brooke shook her head.
“No, Mom. Not just Florida.”
Everybody looked at her.
She sat down slowly.
“He said if the lenders started asking questions, he had a way out.”
Raymond’s voice sharpened.
“What way?”
“He had accounts.”
“What accounts?”
“Outside the country.”
I felt a chill.
Evan stepped closer.
“How much money?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much?”
She covered her face.
“Maybe hundreds of thousands.”
Sheila whispered, “Oh my God.”
Brooke started talking faster, as if once the first secret was out, the rest couldn’t stay inside.
“He said business failures look different when the money is already gone.”
Raymond stared at her.
“What countries?”
“I heard Cayman once.”
He nodded slowly.
“And?”
“Panama.”
Marla whispered, “Jesus.”
Raymond pulled out his phone.
Brooke looked up.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling someone who should hear this.”
“Who?”
“Federal investigators may need to be involved.”
Brooke immediately stood.
“No.”
Evan looked at her.
“You don’t get a vote anymore.”
She stared at him.
“I have a child.”
“So do I.”
“I could go to prison.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
The entire room froze.
Evan’s face changed.
Not rage.
Not shock.
Something sadder.
“Could you?”
She covered her mouth.
He looked at her for a long time.
“Then tell the truth.”
Brooke lowered her hands.
“I didn’t steal the money.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I signed things.”
“What things?”
She started counting with trembling fingers.
“Some loan papers.”
Evan shut his eyes.
“What else?”
“Transfer authorizations.”
“What else?”
“A business account.”
“What else?”
She started crying.
“A power of attorney.”
My heart dropped.
“For who?”
She looked at me.
I already knew.
“For you.”
The room tilted.
Evan stepped between us.
“What power of attorney?”
Brooke shook her head.
“It wasn’t real.”
I laughed once.
I couldn’t help it.
“Neither is my passport, apparently, and here we are.”
Raymond asked, “What authority did the document grant?”
“I don’t know.”
“Financial?”
“Yes.”
“Property?”
She nodded.
My knees weakened.
Marla pulled a chair behind me.
I sat.
I thought of Gene.
Our white house.
Our little porch.
The hydrangeas he planted and pretended not to care about.
The kitchen cabinet he installed crooked because he refused to call anybody for help.
Twenty-nine years of marriage lived inside those walls.
Somebody had turned it into a line on a fraudulent form.
Evan crouched beside me.
“Mom.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not.”
“No.”
I looked at Brooke.
“I’m really not.”
She cried harder.
“I’m sorry.”
I shook my head.
“Stop saying that.”
“I am.”
“Then tell me what the power of attorney was for.”
She wiped her face.
“Dad wanted control if you refused to sign the loan.”
Sheila whispered, “Glenn planned this before the wedding.”
Brooke nodded.
“How long?”
“Months.”
I felt something inside me harden.
Not rage.
Clarity.
That was worse for Brooke.
“Who notarized it?”
She froze.
Raymond looked at me.
I looked at Marla.
Marla stepped backward.
“No.”
I stood.
“Marla.”
“No, Stacey.”
“Were you the notary?”
Her eyes filled instantly.
“I didn’t know what it was for.”
My throat tightened.
“You notarized my signature?”
“She said you had already signed it.”
“She?”
Marla looked at Brooke.
Brooke shook her head.
“No.”
Marla pointed at her.
“You brought it to me.”
Brooke’s face went pale.
Evan stood.
“You brought a forged power of attorney to Mom’s coworker?”
“I didn’t forge it.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“You carried it.”
“I was told it was already handled.”
“By who?”
She looked toward the door.
“My dad.”
Raymond asked, “Did Mr. Ashby physically give you the document?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you Mrs. Miller signed it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know she had not?”
Brooke hesitated too long.
Evan saw it.
“So you knew.”
“I suspected.”
“That means you knew enough.”
She broke down.
“I was scared of him.”
Sheila looked at her daughter.
That changed something.
Not enough to erase anything.
But enough to make everybody listen.
“What do you mean?” Sheila asked.
Brooke wiped her face.
“You think Dad just asks for things?”
Her voice shook.
“He doesn’t ask.”
Glenn’s image in my head shifted slightly.
Not softer.
Darker.
Brooke continued.
“When the business started failing, he became obsessed.”
“He said Mom would leave him if she knew about Kelsey.”
“He said he’d lose the house.”
“He said he’d lose everything.”
She looked at Evan.
“And when I told him no the first time, he threatened to tell you I’d been helping him hide money.”
Evan stared at her.
“Were you?”
She nodded.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brooke.”
“Maybe sixty thousand.”
Sheila sat down hard.
“Sixty thousand?”
Brooke looked at her mother.
“I moved it through accounts.”
“For him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said it would protect the family.”
Sheila laughed through tears.
“It protected his girlfriend.”
Brooke cried.
“I didn’t know that at first.”
Raymond asked, “When did you find out?”
“January.”
“And you kept helping?”
She nodded.
Evan turned away.
Brooke reached for him.
He stepped out of reach.
“Don’t.”
That hurt her more than shouting would have.
She whispered, “I thought I could get everything back before you found out.”
Evan stared at the wedding ring still sitting on the head table.
“You married me today knowing all of this.”
She couldn’t answer.
“That’s what I can’t understand.”
“I love you.”
He looked at her.
“If you loved me, you would have let me choose whether I wanted to walk into this.”
Brooke’s face collapsed.
He continued.
“You didn’t give me a choice.”
“I was trying to protect us.”
“You were protecting secrets.”
Sheila started crying again.
I looked at Raymond.
“What do we do now?”
“Preserve everything.”
“Phone records?”
“Yes.”
“Emails?”
“Yes.”
“Bank statements?”
“Yes.”
“Documents?”
“All of them.”
Marla whispered, “I still have copies.”
Everybody turned toward her.
“Copies of what?” Raymond asked.
She looked terrified.
“Everything Glenn asked me to retrieve.”
I stepped closer.
“How much?”
“A box.”
My stomach dropped.
“Where?”
“My garage.”
Raymond’s expression became serious.
“Do not touch it.”
Marla nodded quickly.
“I won’t.”
He asked, “Anything else?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“A flash drive.”
Glenn’s name seemed to hang in the room even when nobody said it.
“What’s on it?” I asked.
“I don’t know everything.”
“How did you get it?”
“He left it plugged into my office computer.”
“When?”
“Last month.”
“Why was Glenn at our office?”
Marla closed her eyes.
“He wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Marla.”
“He came after hours.”
I felt cold again.
“You let him inside?”
She nodded.
“What did he do?”
“He said he needed to see an old property file.”
“What property?”
She looked at me.
“Yours.”
Evan stepped forward.
“My mother’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he take anything?”
“I thought no.”
“Thought?”
“The next morning, one file was missing.”
My mouth went dry.
“What file?”
Marla looked at me.
“Gene’s estate file.”
I stopped breathing.
Gene had died three years ago.
His estate had been simple.
House.
Life insurance.
Savings.
No mystery.
No fight.
At least I had thought so.
“What did Glenn want with Gene’s estate?”
Marla whispered, “I think he was looking for the insurance documents.”
My heart pounded.
“But the money is in my account.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
Raymond asked, “Does the estate file contain account information?”
“Yes.”
“Beneficiary information?”
“Yes.”
“Original death certificate copies?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the fake passport again.
Then at the death certificate request.
Then at me.
His expression told me the pieces were starting to fit.
Evan noticed.
“What?”
Raymond hesitated.
“What?”
“If someone had a fraudulent power of attorney, identification in Mrs. Miller’s name, Gene Miller’s death certificate, and enough banking information…”
He stopped.
I finished for him.
“They could access the life insurance money.”
“Potentially.”
My stomach turned.
Forty-five thousand.
The money I had protected for three years.
The money Brooke mocked me for supposedly not contributing.
I grabbed my phone.
Evan said, “Mom?”
“I’m calling my bank.”
Brooke suddenly stood.
“Wait.”
I looked at her.
She had gone completely white.
“What?”
She whispered, “The forty-five thousand isn’t there.”
The entire hall disappeared around me.
“What did you say?”
Brooke started shaking.
Evan moved toward her.
“What did you say?”
She looked at me.
“Dad showed me an account statement two weeks ago.”
My voice barely worked.
“My account?”
She nodded.
“How did he have my statement?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much was in it?”
She started crying.
I stepped closer.
“How much?”
“Twelve hundred dollars.”
I couldn’t hear anything after that.
Not Sheila crying.
Not Evan shouting.
Not Raymond calling somebody.
Nothing.
Three years.
I had never touched Gene’s money.
Not for the furnace.
Not when my car needed transmission work.
Not when I wanted new carpet.
Not once.
Forty-five thousand dollars.
Gone.
I looked at Brooke.
“Where is my husband’s money?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“You better think.”
“I swear I don’t.”
Then Marla made a sound behind me.
A tiny gasp.
Everybody turned.
She had unlocked her phone and was staring at something.
“What?” I asked.
She looked up.
“The flash drive.”
“What about it?”
“I copied one spreadsheet from it.”
Raymond stepped closer.
“Why?”
“Because I got scared.”
“What was on it?”
Marla scrolled.
“Transfers.”
My heart started pounding.
“Show me.”
She handed me the phone.
I saw names.
Dates.
Amounts.
Then I saw mine.
STACEY MILLER.
$43,781.
Transferred six days earlier.
Destination:
ASHBY DEVELOPMENT HOLDINGS.
Brooke covered her mouth.
Sheila started sobbing.
Evan looked like he might tear the building apart.
But I kept reading.
Because there was another column.
FINAL DESTINATION.
And beside my money were three words.
KELSEY MORROW — SARASOTA.
Gene’s money.
My husband’s last gift to our son.
Had gone toward the Florida house.
For Glenn’s girlfriend.
I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
Then I noticed one more entry below mine.
Much larger.
$318,000.
Same destination.
But the source name wasn’t mine.
It was Sheila Ashby.
She saw it too.
“What is that?”
Raymond looked at the screen.
Sheila whispered, “I don’t have three hundred thousand dollars.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Raymond asked her a careful question.
“Mrs. Ashby, do you have retirement accounts?”
She stared at him.
“My pension.”
“How much?”
Her face drained.
“About three hundred twenty thousand.”
She reached for her phone.
Glenn hadn’t just stolen from me.
He had emptied his own wife too.
Sheila started dialing.
But before the call connected, Brooke’s phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her entire body froze.
Evan saw the name.
“Who is it?”
Brooke wouldn’t answer.
He looked over her shoulder.
Then his face changed.
“Dad.”
Raymond held up a hand.
“Put it on speaker.”
Brooke shook her head.
“Do it.”
She answered.
“Dad?”
Glenn’s voice came through clearly.
“Listen to me carefully.”
Nobody breathed.
“Where are you?”
“Dad, what did you do?”
“Brooke.”
“Mom’s retirement is gone.”
Silence.
“Stacey’s money is gone.”
More silence.
Then Glenn said, “That money was already lost.”
I stepped toward the phone.
“You stole it.”
Glenn went quiet.
He hadn’t known I was listening.
“Stacey.”
“Where is Gene’s money?”
“You need to calm down.”
“Where is it?”
“Things got complicated.”
I laughed.
“You keep saying that.”
Then his voice changed.
Hard.
Cold.
“Tell Evan to stay out of this.”
My son stepped forward.
“I’m right here.”
Glenn cursed.
Evan said, “Where are you?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“You forged my name.”
“I kept your family alive.”
“You destroyed it.”
Glenn went silent.
Then he said something that made every person in that hall freeze.
“No.”
His voice was almost calm.
“You still don’t understand.”
Evan stared at the phone.
“Understand what?”
Glenn took a breath.
“The money isn’t the reason I left.”
My skin prickled.
“Then why?” I asked.
He gave a soft laugh.
“Because somebody found Gene’s second will.”
I stopped breathing.
Evan looked at me.
“Mom?”
Gene didn’t have a second will.
At least not one I knew about.
Glenn continued.
“And once that gets filed, Stacey, you’re going to wish forty-five thousand dollars was the biggest thing you lost.”
The line went dead.

PART 6 — THE SECOND WILL

The line went dead.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I could still hear Glenn’s last sentence in my head.
You’re going to wish forty-five thousand dollars was the biggest thing you lost.
Evan looked at me.
“Mom… what second will?”
“There isn’t one.”
Raymond Pike’s expression changed.
“You’re certain?”
“I handled Gene’s estate.”
“You saw the will that was filed?”
“Yes.”
“Original?”
I hesitated.
“A certified copy.”
Raymond noticed.
“Who had the original?”
I thought back three years.
Gene had been sick for months, but the end still came faster than I expected.
Our attorney, Mr. Palmer, handled everything.
Or at least I thought he had.
“I assumed the law office.”
Marla went pale.
I turned toward her.
“What?”
She looked down.
“Marla.”
“There was another envelope in Gene’s file.”
My heart stopped.
“What envelope?”
She shook her head.
“I never opened it.”
“When did you see it?”
“The night Glenn came into the office.”
I stared at her.
“You said one file was missing.”
“It was.”
“But?”
“He put it back.”
Evan stepped closer.
“He stole Grandpa’s file and returned it?”
Marla nodded.
“The next morning it was in the records room again.”
“What was different?”
“There was a yellow envelope inside.”
My mouth went dry.
“What did it say?”
Marla closed her eyes, trying to remember.
“Something like… to be opened only if Stacey contests.”
The room went silent.
“Contests what?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Raymond said, “Could be estate instructions.”
Evan shook his head.
“Grandpa wouldn’t hide something from Mom.”
I wanted to agree.
I wanted to say Gene told me everything.
But married people say that because they need it to be true.
Gene had been kind.
Gene had been loyal.
Gene had also been stubborn enough to keep a cracked rib secret for four days because he didn’t want me making him go to the hospital.
People can love you completely and still keep things from you.
“What happened to the envelope?” I asked.
Marla looked miserable.
“I don’t know.”
“Was it there before Glenn came in?”
“Yes.”
“And after?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“I didn’t check.”
I turned toward Raymond.
“Can we go to the office?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the clock.
“It would be better not to disturb anything if there’s a possible fraud investigation.”
“It’s my husband’s file.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
My voice cracked.
“That file has been sitting twenty feet from my desk for three years.”
Raymond softened.
“Then preserve it properly.”
I hated that he was right.
Evan put a hand on my shoulder.
“We’ll do it right.”
I nodded.
Then Sheila’s phone made a sound.

She looked down.
Her face drained.
“What?” I asked.
She turned the screen toward us.
Her retirement account.
Balance unavailable.
Restriction pending.
Raymond leaned closer.
“That may be good.”
She stared at him.
“How?”
“If the institution detected something and froze transactions, the money may not be gone.”
Hope hit her so hard she almost cried again.
“Call them.”
She did.
I watched her move toward the corner of the hall, speaking with shaking hands.
Brooke sat alone at the head table.
Her wedding flowers were still perfect.
That somehow made everything worse.
Evan walked toward her.
I started to follow.
Then stopped.
This was theirs.
He stood across from her.
“Did you know about the will?”
She looked up.
“No.”
“Did your dad ever mention Grandpa Gene?”
“Sometimes.”
“What did he say?”
Brooke hesitated.
“He said your grandfather left unfinished business.”
“My grandfather?”
She corrected herself.
“Your dad. Sorry.”
Evan stared.
“What unfinished business?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I don’t know everything!”
Her voice cracked through the hall.
Then she lowered it.
“Dad didn’t tell me everything.”
“Enough.”
She looked down.
“Yes.”
Evan pulled out a chair.
He didn’t sit beside her.
He sat across from her like they were strangers negotiating.
“Start at the beginning.”
Brooke rubbed her hands together.
“My dad started asking about your family before we were even engaged.”
My heart sank.
Evan’s face tightened.
“What kind of questions?”
“Your mom’s house.”
“My mom’s job.”
“Your dad’s insurance.”
“His estate.”
I stepped closer despite myself.
“He asked about Gene’s estate before the wedding?”
Brooke looked at me.
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Maybe two years.”
That meant before Glenn’s house was in foreclosure.
Before the loans.
Before the desperate explanations.
This had started much earlier.
Raymond clearly understood the same thing.
“That changes the timeline.”
Evan looked at Brooke.
“Why would your father care about my dad’s estate two years ago?”
“I don’t know.”
Then she whispered, “But Kelsey might.”
Sheila stopped talking on the phone.
“What did you say?”
Brooke turned toward her mother.
“Kelsey knew Gene.”
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
I walked closer.
“What?”
Brooke looked frightened.
“Dad said they met years ago.”
“Who?”
“Kelsey and Gene.”
My mouth went dry.
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where?”
“Florida, maybe.”
I shook my head.
“Gene hated Florida.”
Evan almost laughed despite everything.
“He complained about humidity in Indiana.”
That was true.
Gene once refused a family trip to Orlando because he said he wasn’t paying money to sweat on purpose.
Brooke continued.
“Dad had an old picture.”
Sheila stared at her.
“What picture?”
“Dad, Kelsey, Gene… and another man.”
My heart started pounding.
“Where?”
“On a boat.”
“Glenn had a picture of my husband?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Brooke looked ashamed.
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
Everything mattered now.
Raymond asked, “Did you see a date?”
“No.”
“Anything written on the back?”
“I never saw the back.”
Sheila whispered, “Where is the picture?”
“Dad’s office.”
Sheila wiped her face.
“Not anymore.”
Everybody looked at her.
She held up her phone.
“I just called the neighbor.”
“What happened?”
“Glenn’s office window is open.”
My chest tightened.
“Was it open earlier?”
“No.”
Sheila shook her head.
“I locked the house when we left for the wedding.”
Raymond immediately pulled out his phone.
“Do not go there.”
Evan frowned.
“Why?”
“Because if someone entered the property, you don’t know whether they’re still there.”
He stepped away to make the call.
Brooke whispered, “Dad.”
I looked at her.
“You think Glenn went home?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
Her face turned pale.
“Kelsey.”
Sheila sat down.
“That woman has been in my house?”
Brooke looked away.
Silence answered for her.
Sheila slowly stood.
“How many times?”
“Mom.”
“How many times?”
“A few.”
The slap came before anybody could stop it.
Sheila hit Brooke across the face.
Brooke didn’t move.
Evan stood immediately.
“Sheila.”
Sheila stared at her daughter.
“You let his mistress into my home?”
Brooke whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“You ate dinner with me.”
“I know.”
“You sat at my table while that woman was coming into my house?”
“I know.”
Sheila’s whole body shook.
Then she turned away and started sobbing.
I understood that kind of pain.
The money was awful.
The betrayal was worse.
Raymond returned.
“Sheriff’s office is sending someone to the Ashby residence.”
Then he looked at me.
“They’re also sending someone here.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
For the first time that night, the word felt strange.
Nothing was good.
But at least secrets were beginning to lose.
Twenty minutes later, two deputies entered the hall.
Every conversation stopped.
One spoke with Raymond.
The other approached me.
“Mrs. Miller?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Deputy Carver.”
He looked at the passport.
“Mr. Pike explained some of what’s happening.”
“Some?”
He almost smiled.
“It’s a long night.”
“You have no idea.”
He asked us not to handle any more documents unnecessarily.
Marla handed over her phone information.
Brooke surrendered hers after Evan told her, quietly, “This is your chance to stop making it worse.”
She cried when she handed it over.
Then Deputy Carver’s radio crackled.
He listened.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He spoke into the radio.
“Repeat that.”
Everybody watched him.
He lowered the radio.
“The Ashby residence has been entered.”
Sheila covered her mouth.
“Is anyone there?”
“Not now.”
“What was taken?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Brooke whispered, “Dad’s office.”
Deputy Carver looked at her.
“You know what may be missing?”
“Documents.”
“What kind?”
She looked toward me.
“Anything connected to Gene Miller.”
My stomach tightened.
Carver nodded.
“Anything else?”
“Kelsey’s records.”
He looked at Raymond.
“Who’s Kelsey?”
Raymond said, “Possible associate.”
Sheila snapped, “Mistress.”
Carver gave a small nod.
“Understood.”
His radio crackled again.
This time he listened longer.
Then he looked at me.
“They found something.”
“What?”
“At the Ashby house.”
“What?”
He hesitated.
“A locked metal box.”
Sheila frowned.
“We don’t own a metal box.”
“Where was it?”
“Hidden beneath the flooring in the office closet.”
Brooke went white.
I asked, “What’s inside?”
“They haven’t opened it.”
Raymond said, “They’ll need authority.”
Sheila immediately said, “It’s my house too.”
Carver nodded.
“They’re handling it.”
Evan looked exhausted.
“Could that be what Glenn went back for?”
“Possible.”
Then Carver’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression became more serious.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“Understood.”
Another pause.
“Send me the image.”
He hung up.
“What now?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“Inside the box there appears to be a document envelope.”
My heart began pounding.
“What does it say?”
He turned his phone around.
Someone had sent him a photograph.
I saw a faded yellow envelope.
Handwriting across the front.
Gene’s handwriting.
I would have known it anywhere.
TO STACEY.
PERSONAL.
DO NOT OPEN UNLESS THE FIRST WILL IS CHALLENGED.
My knees nearly gave out.
Evan caught my elbow.
“That’s Grandpa’s writing.”
“Yes.”
Deputy Carver zoomed in.
There was another line at the bottom.
FILE COPY WITH PALMER.
I stared at it.
“Mr. Palmer.”
My old attorney.
Gene’s attorney.
Dead eighteen months.
Marla whispered, “His files went into storage.”
I turned toward her.
“Where?”
“Our office.”
Of course.
Everything kept coming back to the place where I had worked for twenty-two years.
The place I trusted.
The place Glenn had entered after hours.
I looked at Deputy Carver.
“There may be another copy.”
He nodded.
“We’ll secure it.”
Brooke suddenly stood.
“No.”
Everybody looked at her.
She had gone white.
“No, you need to get there now.”
Carver’s expression sharpened.
“Why?”
She started shaking.
“Because Dad knows where the storage room is.”
Evan frowned.
“How?”
Brooke whispered, “Marla showed him.”
Marla stared at her.
“I did not.”
“You gave him the building tour at Christmas.”
“That was two years ago.”
Brooke nodded.
“He remembered.”
Marla covered her mouth.
Carver immediately spoke into his radio.
Then he looked at me.
“Is the office alarmed?”
“Yes.”
“Camera system?”
“Front entrance and rear hallway.”
He made another call.
The next ten minutes felt like an hour.
Nobody ate.
Nobody danced.
The cake I had been cutting sat untouched in the kitchen.
Finally Carver’s phone rang again.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked straight at me.
“Your office alarm was triggered eleven minutes ago.”
My heart stopped.
“Is someone inside?”
“Deputies are arriving now.”
Evan grabbed his jacket.
“I’m going.”
Carver held up a hand.
“No.”
“That’s my dad’s will.”
“And whoever is there may be desperate.”
Evan looked furious.
But he stayed.
Another call came.
Carver answered.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“Rear exit?”
Pause.
“Description?”
His eyes moved toward Brooke.
Then Sheila.
Then me.
He ended the call.
“They saw someone leaving.”
“Glenn?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Woman.”
Brooke whispered, “Kelsey.”
“What did she look like?” Sheila asked.
“Blonde. Mid-fifties. Gray coat.”
Sheila shut her eyes.
“That’s her.”
Carver continued.
“She was carrying a document box.”
My chest tightened.
“Did they catch her?”
“No.”
Then his phone buzzed with another image.
He opened it.
His expression became strange.
“What?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“Something was dropped in the hallway.”
He showed me the photograph.
A torn piece of paper.
Part of a legal document.
At the top were the words:
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF EUGENE MILLER.
And beneath them:
I hereby revoke all prior wills.
Evan stared.
“That’s a second will.”
I couldn’t speak.
Carver zoomed lower.
Only one beneficiary line remained visible.
I expected to see my name.
Or Evan’s.
Instead, I saw:
To my biological daughter, Kelsey Morrow…
The room vanished around me.
Sheila whispered, “Biological daughter?”
Evan looked at me.
“Mom?”
I stared at those words.
My husband.
My Gene.
Had a daughter named Kelsey.
And suddenly Glenn’s mistress wasn’t just some woman in Florida.
She was my dead husband’s child.