Chapter 5 - THE MAN BY THE WINDOW
Victor Lane had always been introduced as “a family friend.”
He had appeared at Thanksgiving the year after Mom died.
Then Christmas.
Then Daniel and Rachel’s anniversary party.
Dad claimed Victor worked in real estate finance.
Rachel claimed he was one of her oldest professional contacts.
I had never liked him.
Not because he had ever been openly rude.
Because he watched people too carefully.
When you spoke, Victor did not seem to listen to your words.
He seemed to study what you might be useful for.
At the birthday party, he had stood beside the window holding a glass of iced tea.
He had watched Rachel push me.
He had watched Dad take my crutch.
He had left before the police arrived.
Daniel called the investigator.
The conversation lasted less than three minutes.
When he hung up, his expression told me something had changed.
“They already want to talk to him.”
“Why?”
“He was identified by three witnesses.”
“As a witness?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Maybe more.”
Aunt Carol looked uncomfortable.
“Victor arranged your father’s last loan.”
Daniel turned toward her.
“You knew about a loan?”
“Only because your father bragged about it.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“That shouldn’t be possible.”
Carol nodded.
“That’s why I thought he was exaggerating.”
I pulled up the trust documents again.
Dad could not secure a loan against the house without both beneficiaries agreeing.
Daniel had never agreed.
Neither had I.
Daniel began pacing.
“If he borrowed against that property, somebody submitted consent.”
I thought of the forged-looking signature Noah had found.
“What if he forged both of us?”
Daniel stopped.
The possibility hung between us.
Carol sat down.
“There’s more.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
“Of course there is.”
“Rachel once asked me what your mother’s signature looked like.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“About a year ago.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I asked why.”
“And?”
“She said she was making a memorial album.”
Daniel looked at me.
Neither of us had ever seen a memorial album.
Carol’s voice became smaller.
“I showed her an old Christmas card.”
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I didn’t think it mattered.”
That sentence seemed to define our entire family.
Nobody thought something mattered until it was too late.
A nurse entered and told everyone I needed rest.
Daniel nodded.
Before leaving, he placed Noah’s paper into the folder the investigator had provided.
He turned to me.
“I’m going to the house.”
“Which house?”
“Mom’s.”
“Daniel.”
“I’m not confronting Dad.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
He picked up his keys.
“I’m checking the study.”
Mom had kept every important document in that room.
Dad had told us he cleared it out years ago.
Daniel paused at the door.
“What exactly did Mom keep in the bottom drawer of her desk?”
I pictured the old mahogany desk beside the bookshelf.
“Tax papers.”
“Anything else?”
“Property records.”
Daniel nodded.
Then another memory came back.
“And a small fireproof box.”
He turned.
“What was in it?”
“I never knew.”
“Where was the key?”
“Mom wore it.”
Daniel looked puzzled.
“With her jewelry?”
“Yes.”
“Dad gave Rachel some of Mom’s jewelry.”
The words landed heavily.
“What jewelry?”
Daniel’s face went pale.
“The gold necklace with the tiny key.”
I stared at him.
Rachel had worn that necklace at Christmas.
She had claimed Dad gave it to her because Mom would have wanted her to have something special.
Suddenly the necklace was no longer sentimental.
It was access.
Daniel left without another word.
Two hours later, my phone rang.
He did not say hello.
“The study was locked.”
I sat upright.
“Dad never locked that room.”
“I know.”
“What did you do?”
“I called the investigator.”
“And?”
“We opened it with permission after Dad agreed to let officers inspect the property.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“Did you find the box?”
“No.”
I exhaled.
Then Daniel continued.
“But we found the outline where it used to sit.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means somebody removed it recently.”
“How recently?”
Daniel’s voice lowered.
“The dust around it hasn’t been disturbed.”
I felt cold.
May you like
Then he said the words that changed the investigation again.
“And Rachel’s fingerprints were on the locked desk drawer.”
