Chapter 12 - THE LAST ARGUMENT
My entire body went cold.
“When?”
“About a month before Robert died.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there.”
I stood.
“You were in my house?”
“No. Harrison and I were at Robert’s workshop.”
Robert had rented a small workshop behind an auto parts store.
It was where he restored old furniture after retirement.
He loved that place.
I rarely visited because he called it his “quiet kingdom.”
“What happened?”
Sloan took a breath.
“Robert had discovered money missing from a business account.”
“What business account?”
“I don’t know exactly. He said Harrison had used his debit card and transferred money.”
“How much?”
“Maybe twelve thousand.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why didn’t Robert tell me?”
“Harrison begged him not to.”
Of course.
I could almost hear Robert.
Diane doesn’t need more stress.
We’ll handle it.
Protecting me.
That had been his favorite mistake.
“And you were there?”
“Yes.”
“What did Robert say?”
“He told Harrison this was the last time.”
My throat tightened.
“What else?”
“He said if Harrison ever touched your money, he’d go to the police himself.”
I sank back into the chair.
Rachel leaned closer.
“Ask about the repayment.”
I nodded.
“Did Harrison repay Robert?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I gave Harrison some of the money.”
I stared at the phone.
“You what?”
“I didn’t know where it came from.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We had debt even then. Harrison said Robert loaned him money. He gave me six thousand to pay off my credit cards.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“So you benefited.”
“Yes.”
“Again.”
“Yes.”
She was crying now.
I had no sympathy left.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Harrison is blaming me for everything.”
“That doesn’t make you innocent.”
“I know.”
“No. I don’t think you do.”
Silence.
Then she said:
“There’s something else.”
I almost laughed.
There was always something else.
“What?”
“Robert had paperwork.”
“What paperwork?”
“Copies of the transactions.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“He must have kept them somewhere.”
“Why?”
“Because he said, ‘If he does this again, I’m giving everything to Diane.’”
My heart stopped.
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
Rachel was writing quickly.
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
She mouthed: Will.
I understood.
“Did Robert change his will?”
“I don’t know.”
After the call, Rachel requested every estate document from Robert’s old attorney.
Three hours later, we found it.
Not a new will.
A codicil.
Signed twenty-three days before Robert died.
The document removed Harrison as direct beneficiary of the brokerage account.
It redirected the money to me.
I stared at the signature.
Robert’s real signature.
Strong.
Uneven.
Impossible to mistake.
“So why did Harrison receive the money?”
Rachel’s expression changed.
“Because this document was never filed with the brokerage company.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could Harrison have stopped it?”
“If he knew it existed and had access to Robert’s paperwork…”
She didn’t finish.
She didn’t need to.
Then Rachel turned the last page.
A handwritten note was clipped behind the codicil.
Robert’s handwriting.
DIANE,
IF YOU’RE READING THIS, I DIDN’T GET A CHANCE TO EXPLAIN.
HARRISON HAS A PROBLEM.
DO NOT GIVE HIM ACCESS TO YOUR MONEY UNTIL HE GETS HELP.
I read the sentence again.
And again.
Robert had warned me.
He had tried to protect me.
But I had never seen the note.
Someone had hidden it.
I thought I knew who.
Then Rachel pointed at the bottom of the page.
There was another line.
I’VE ASKED MARK DALTON TO HOLD A COPY.
My breath caught.
Mark.
The same name Harrison had shouted when Northpoint collapsed.
“I’m going to find Mark.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Not alone.”
But I was already standing.
Because suddenly I understood something.
Mark Dalton had known my husband.
Mark Dalton had known Harrison.
May you like
And Mark Dalton was connected to the investment company that had swallowed my money.
That could not be a coincidence.
