Chapter 4 - Vault 312 Was Empty
Richard had reached the bank before us.
But he had found nothing.
I knew because his expression changed when my attorney called the bank and confirmed the vault inventory.
Empty.
No will.
No flash drive.
No letters.
Only an envelope.
Addressed to Clara.
Richard had taken it.
“What was inside?” I asked.
He smiled again.
“Nothing you’ll ever see.”
Then Luke whispered:
“Dad burned it.”
Richard spun toward him.
Luke stepped behind hospital security.
“You burned it in the courtyard.”
My jaw tightened.
Richard had destroyed something Evelyn left for Clara.
But whatever mattered most wasn’t inside that bank box.
Otherwise Richard would not still be frightened.
I looked toward Mason.
“You attacked Clara after your father went to the bank?”
He looked confused.
“No.”
Something didn’t fit.
The attack happened earlier.
Richard believed Clara had something before he opened Vault 312.
“What did she tell you?” I asked.
Mason glanced at Richard.
Then looked away.
“Mason.”
He exhaled.
“She said Mom was smarter than Dad.”
Richard cursed.
“And?”
“She said the bank box was only the beginning.”
There it was.
Evelyn had expected Richard to find it.
The obvious safe.
The obvious key.
The obvious vault.
Decoys.
Clara knew where the real evidence was.
Richard had attacked her because she refused to tell him.
I walked into Clara’s ICU room.
Her eyes were closed.
I sat beside her.
“Clara.”
Her eyelids moved.
A minute later, she whispered my name.
I leaned closer.
“Your mother’s will.”
Her entire body tensed.
“Richard knows.”
Clara’s eyes opened.
Fear.
“Did he find the bank box?”
“Yes.”
“There was nothing there.”
“I know.”
She exhaled weakly.
“Good.”
“Where is the real will?”
Her eyes moved toward the door.
“Are they outside?”
“Not for much longer.”
She closed her eyes.
“Mom knew Dad would search everything after she died.”
“So she hid it somewhere he would never willingly go.”
“Where?”
Clara almost smiled.
“My elementary school.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She donated a reading room before she died. There’s an old time capsule behind the dedication plaque.”
My pulse rose.
“The documents are there?”
“Some.”
“Where’s the rest?”
Clara’s smile disappeared.
“The flash drive is somewhere safer.”
Before I could ask where, she squeezed my hand.
“There’s something you need to know about my mother.”
“What?”
Clara looked toward the machines surrounding her.
Then back at me.
“She didn’t die of cancer.”
The room went cold.
“What happened?”
May you like
Clara whispered:
“She was poisoned.”
