Chapter 3 - GRANDMA'S MISSING MONEY
By eight o'clock that morning, my sister's wedding had become the least interesting problem in the room.
My grandmother, Evelyn Mercer, died four years earlier.
She had been difficult, precise, sharp-minded, and almost impossible to manipulate.
Perhaps that's why Ashley disliked her.
Grandma also understood our family better than anyone.
She knew my parents rescued Ashley from every consequence.
And she knew I was expected to rescue everyone else.
So Grandma created a trust.
Not enormous.
But significant.
The assets were meant to remain untouched until certain conditions were met, then divide equally between Ashley and me.
Our parents were never beneficiaries.
And they were never trustees.
I stared at my father.
"How did you access Grandma's trust?"
Dad straightened.
"It's complicated."
"No. It's banking. Usually very uncomplicated."
Mom whispered, "Eleanor, please."
"How?"
Dad looked toward Naomi.
"Can we discuss this privately?"
"This is my private office."
"You know what I mean."
I asked Naomi to close the door behind her.
Then I sat down.
"Start talking."
Dad told me Ashley had needed deposits six months earlier.
The venue courtesy covered a huge portion of the wedding, but there were still upgrades.
Custom invitations.
Designer gown.
Imported floral structures.
Luxury transportation.
A champagne wall.
A rehearsal dinner.
Ashley wanted everything.
My parents promised she'd get it.
They apparently assumed I would eventually pay.
When I didn't volunteer enough cash quickly enough, they found another source.
Grandma's trust.
"But you couldn't withdraw from it," I said.
Dad stared at his hands.
"I had paperwork."
"What paperwork?"
He looked at Mom.
She began crying.
Not loudly.
My mother never cried loudly when she wanted sympathy.
She made her voice small.
"Your grandmother signed something before she died."
"No, she didn't."
"You don't know that."
"I reviewed her estate."
Dad interrupted.
"Not everything."
That sentence landed differently.
I stared at him.
"What does that mean?"
He realized his mistake immediately.
Before I could pursue it, my phone rang.
Marcus again.
I answered.
"Tell me something good."
"I might have something useful instead."
Apparently the estate owner, Charles Weisetta, had heard about the dispute.
He knew me professionally.
More importantly, he knew my grandmother.
That surprised me.
"How?"
Marcus hesitated.
"You should ask him yourself."
Then he explained that Charles had offered to keep the wedding on hold until noon.
No vendors would be permanently released before then.
It was more generosity than Ashley deserved.
I thanked him.
When I ended the call, Dad immediately said, "Good. Reinstate everything."
"I didn't say that."
"Eleanor—"
My desk phone buzzed.
Naomi.
"There is another visitor."
I almost laughed.
"Who now?"
"Attorney named Benjamin Cole."
I froze.
Dad did too.
That was interesting.
Benjamin Cole had handled my grandmother's estate.
I hadn't spoken to him in nearly three years.
"Send him in."
The moment Benjamin entered, my father's face changed.
Not subtly.
Fear.
Benjamin carried a leather folder.
He greeted me, then looked at my parents.
"I wasn't expecting Robert and Diane."
My father stood.
"Why are you here?"
Benjamin's eyes sharpened.
"Because someone attempted to access Evelyn Mercer's restricted trust yesterday using a document that shouldn't exist."
Nobody moved.
He placed the folder on my desk.
Inside was a photocopy of an authorization form.
At the bottom were two signatures.
One supposedly belonged to Grandma.
The other belonged to my father.
My pulse hammered.
Benjamin pointed to Grandma's signature.
"It's false."
My mother whispered, "Oh my God."
Dad said nothing.
Benjamin looked at me.
"But that's not the biggest problem."
He removed another document.
A sealed letter.
My name was written across the front in Grandma's unmistakable handwriting.
ELEANOR ONLY.
"I was instructed to deliver this if anyone attempted unauthorized access to the trust."
I stared at the envelope.
May you like
Four years after Grandma's death, she had apparently left me one final warning.
And somehow, she had known exactly who I might need protection from.
