Chapter 3 - The Will Richard Buried
Clara’s mother, Evelyn Holloway, died seven years earlier.
Cancer.
At least that was what everyone believed.
I had met her only twice.
A quiet woman with tired eyes who apologized every time Richard interrupted her.
Clara loved her.
Richard controlled her.
After Evelyn died, Richard handled everything.
Her funeral.
Her belongings.
Her estate.
Clara received jewelry, photographs and a handwritten recipe book.
Nothing else.
Now Luke was telling us there had been another will.
“What was in it?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Richard shouted, “He’s lying!”
Luke turned on him.
“No, I’m not!”
That silenced everyone.
The youngest son had apparently spent his entire life afraid of his father.
Tonight he had finally found something stronger than fear.
Guilt.
“Clara found the safe behind Mom’s old wardrobe,” Luke continued. “She called me three days ago.”
“Why you?”
“She thought I was the only one who might tell the truth.”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“That was her first mistake.”
Luke’s face broke.
“No. Her mistake was believing any of us were still her brothers.”
Mason looked away.
So did Caleb.
The words landed.
I stepped closer to Luke.
“What did Clara say was in the safe?”
“A will. A flash drive. Letters.”
“And?”
“A key.”
“What kind?”
“Small. Silver.”
Richard stared at him with pure hatred.
Luke kept going.
“She said Mom left everything to her.”
I frowned.
“Everything?”
Richard had always claimed Evelyn owned almost nothing.
Apparently that was another lie.
Luke explained.
Before marrying Richard, Evelyn came from the Mercer family, whose land holdings outside Baltimore had been quietly sold over decades.
Trust accounts.
Mineral rights.
Commercial property.
Private investments.
Richard had spent thirty years telling his sons the Holloway fortune came from him.
It didn’t.
Much of it had been Evelyn’s.
“How much?” Mason asked.
Luke shook his head.
“Clara said more than a hundred million.”
Nobody breathed.
Richard’s empire had been built on money that never legally belonged to him.
And Evelyn’s hidden will left controlling ownership to Clara.
Not her sons.
Not Richard.
Clara.
Because Evelyn knew exactly what Richard had become.
Mason stared at his father.
“You told us Mom signed everything over to you.”
“She did.”
“Then why was there another will?”
Richard said nothing.
I looked at Luke.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know. Clara took the documents.”
My heart tightened.
“She didn’t have anything when she arrived at the hospital.”
“No.”
Luke’s eyes filled with fear.
“Because Mason took her purse.”
Every eye moved toward the oldest brother.
Mason’s face hardened.
“I gave it to Dad.”
Richard looked ready to kill him.
But the betrayal had already happened.
I turned toward Richard.
“Where is Clara’s purse?”
He smiled.
“You think I’m going to help you?”
“No.”
My phone vibrated.
My security director had already searched Richard’s movements.
His car left the Holloway estate thirty-one minutes after Clara’s ambulance.
It stopped at a private bank downtown.
For nine minutes.
Then came straight to the hospital.
I looked at Richard.
“You already used the silver key.”
His confidence disappeared.
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The bank was Whitmore Private Trust.
And at 11:04 p.m., Richard Holloway had entered Safe Deposit Vault 312.
