Chapter 3: The Bequest They Overlooked
“You’ve seen that drive before,” I said.
My father held out his hand.
“I won’t ask again.”
“You didn’t ask.
You ordered.”
Mother moved between us.
“Genevieve, this can still remain a private family matter.”
“Grandfather wrote that you knew.”
Her hand dropped.
Chloe looked from her to Father.
“Knew what?” Chloe asked.
“Don’t pretend,” I said.
“He named all three of you.”
Father lunged for my coat pocket, but I stepped behind the table.
The documents slid from the open safe and scattered across the floor.
“Stop!” Chloe shouted.
Father turned on her.
“Pick those up.”
“Why?” Chloe’s voice shook.
“What’s on the blue drive?”
Before he answered, headlights crossed the front windows.
A car door closed, and Raymond Vance entered without knocking.
“You called your lawyer quickly,” I said.
Raymond removed his glasses.
“I am the estate’s attorney.”
“You’re also the man Grandfather warned me not to trust.”
“That letter was written by a confused old man.”
Father pointed at my pocket.
“She took estate property.”
Raymond’s eyes remained fixed on me.
“Return the drives, Genevieve.
Otherwise, I will contact the sheriff and report a theft.”
“The will says the cedar music box and its contents belong to me.
It says nothing about the contents of this safe.”
“The house belongs to your father.
Everything inside it is under his control.”
I lifted the deed from the floor.
“This document places the house in the Elias Ward Family Trust.”
Raymond snatched it from my hand.
“An unsigned draft.”
“There’s a notary seal.”
“There are ways to challenge anything.”
Father smiled again.
“You heard him.
Get out.”
I tucked Grandfather’s letter inside my blouse.
Raymond reached toward me, then stopped when I raised my phone.
“Touch me,” I said, “and the recording goes to my office.”
His hand fell.
Mother gripped the back of a chair.
“There’s no need to humiliate everyone.”
“Grandfather lay upstairs asking whether the front door had opened.
Every time it did, he thought one of you had come.”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered.
“You already did.”
Chloe’s eyes filled, but Father pointed toward the hallway.
“Her bag is in the guest room.
Bring it.”
“I’m not your servant,” Chloe said.
“You were happy to take the jewelry.”
The color left her face.
She went upstairs without another word.
Raymond lowered his voice.
“You have a respectable career, Genevieve.
A dispute involving confidential financial records could damage it.”
“Is that advice or a threat?”
“It’s an opportunity to behave sensibly.”
I removed the three drives and held them inside my closed fist.
Father took one step forward.
“If anything happens to those files,” I said, “everyone in this room becomes a suspect.”
He stopped.
Chloe returned carrying my overnight bag.
She placed it beside me instead of throwing it at my feet.
“Take the music box too,” she said quietly.
Father glared at her.
“Why would she need that now?”
“Because the will gave it to her.”
The cedar box sat on the mantel.
I lifted it with both hands and felt something move beneath its velvet lining.
Raymond heard it too.
“That box must remain here until it is inventoried,” he said.
“You read the bequest yourself.”
“I can revise my interpretation.”
“Then revise it in front of a judge.”
I walked toward the door.
Father’s voice followed me.
“If you leave with those drives, you are finished in this family.”
I looked back at him.
“I was alone beside Grandfather’s bed.
I think you finished this family months ago.”
Outside, I locked myself in my car.
My fingers were too unsteady to start the engine, so I placed the music box on the passenger seat.
The brass key was already in its lock.
I turned it.
A melody played, and the false bottom sprang open.
May you like
Inside was a memory card and a folded note containing four words:
The blue drive is bait.
