Chapter 4: The Reading
Thursday arrived grey and cold, the kind of morning that makes every building feel smaller than it is.
Mr.
Delgado's conference room had a long oval table, six chairs, and a window that looked out over the parking garage.
I arrived twenty minutes early.
My attorney, a woman named Grace Holloway, arrived two minutes after me.
She set her briefcase on the table, opened it without ceremony, and said, "Walk me through what you know about the $340,000."
I told her everything.
She listened without interrupting, made three notes on a yellow legal pad, and said, "Good.
Don't volunteer any of that today.
Let them talk first."
Brad and Stephanie arrived together at five past ten, with a man I didn't recognize — their attorney, I assumed, from the way he moved ahead of them to pull out a chair.
Brad looked older than he had at the funeral.
There were lines around his mouth I didn't remember.
He glanced at me once when he sat down, then looked at the table.
Stephanie did not look at me at all.
Mr.
Delgado entered, set a folder in front of him, and sat down.
"Thank you all for coming," he said.
"I'll read the will in full, and then we can address any questions."
The will itself was straightforward.
The house and four acres to Patricia.
The contents of the primary investment account, split equally between Brad and Stephanie, amounting to approximately $180,000 each.
Personal items — Frank's watch, his tools, his father's rifle — distributed as he'd specified.
The room was quiet while Mr.
Delgado read.
Brad's attorney made a note.
Stephanie's jaw tightened when the house was named.
When Mr.
Delgado finished, Brad's attorney spoke first.
"We'll be filing a challenge on the grounds of undue influence and diminished capacity.
Our position is that Mr.
Kowalski was not in a condition to make sound legal decisions in the final period of his life, and that Mrs.
Kowalski—" he glanced at me briefly "—had significant influence over those decisions."
Grace didn't move.
Brad leaned forward.
"He changed everything right before he got sick.
That's not a coincidence."
"He updated his will fourteen months before he passed," Grace said.
"At the time of the update, he had not yet received his cardiac diagnosis.
His physician can confirm that."
"He was already declining," Stephanie said.
Her voice was sharp.
"Anyone who spent time with him could see it."
"The will was witnessed and notarized," Mr.
Delgado said.
"I met with Frank personally on three separate occasions during the drafting process.
He was clear, consistent, and specific in his instructions."
Brad's attorney set down his pen.
"We're also requesting a full accounting of the estate assets, including any transfers or gifts made in the twenty-four months prior to Mr.
Kowalski's passing."
The room went very still.
Grace looked at me.
I gave her nothing.
"That's your right," she said to Brad's attorney.
"We'll cooperate fully with any accounting request."
Brad looked at her.
Something shifted in his expression — not quite suspicion, but close to it.
He hadn't expected that answer.
"We'll be in touch," his attorney said, and began gathering his papers.
Stephanie finally looked at me.
Her eyes were red at the edges, though I couldn't tell if it was grief or anger or both.
"You knew he was changing things," she said.
"You pushed him."
"Stephanie." Her attorney put a hand on her arm.
"She was alone with him constantly at the end.
She had every opportunity—"
"Stephanie." Firmer this time.
She stopped.
Pressed her lips together.
Stood up and pulled her coat from the back of the chair.
At the door, Brad paused.
He didn't turn around fully, just enough that I could see the side of his face.
"This isn't over," he said.
Grace waited until the door closed.
"They don't know about the trust," she said quietly.
"No."
"And they don't know about the transfers."
"Not yet."
She clicked her pen closed and looked at me steadily.
"Patricia.
When they file that accounting request and those records come back — Brad's name is going to be on $340,000 worth of unauthorized transfers from his father's business account."
I looked at the door Brad had just walked through.
"I know," I said.
"That changes the nature of this case considerably."
"I know that too."
She studied me for a moment.
"Do you want to use it?"
I thought about Frank's letter.
*I protected him when I should have protected you.
That was my mistake.*
"Yes," I said.
"I do."
Grace nodded once and wrote something on her legal pad.
May you like
Outside, I heard the elevator open and close, and then the sound of Brad and Stephanie's voices fading down the hall, still talking, still certain they were winning.
They had no idea what was on that USB drive.
