“And now we handle practical matters.”
Inside, two attorneys waited beside documents. Arthur’s brother, Jaxson, lounged near the fireplace, drinking Audrey’s whiskey. On the table sat a transfer agreement giving Arthur control of Audrey’s charitable foundation, investment portfolio, and the lake house she had inherited from my husband.
Arthur tapped the signature line. “Audrey named me sole beneficiary. These papers simply prevent delays.”
I placed the empty estate folder on the table. “Where is the original will?”
His smile hardened. “You don’t need to understand everything.”
One attorney avoided my eyes. The other, Thomas Landry, slid me a waiver surrendering my right to challenge the estate.
Arthur leaned close. “Sign it, Eleanor. Audrey is gone. Don’t embarrass yourself by pretending you matter now.”
Jaxson laughed.
I picked up the pen, then deliberately dropped it. While Arthur bent to retrieve it, I pressed the button on the recorder inside my sleeve.
“You arranged the cremation quickly,” I said.
“Audrey hated funerals.”
“She also hated fire.”
His jaw flexed.
Thomas interrupted. “Mrs. Sterling, grief can distort memory.”
“So can forged documents.”
Silence struck the room.
Arthur recovered first. “Careful.”
I looked at him. “Did Audrey sign these before or after you replaced her heart medication?”
Arthur’s face remained composed, but his thumb began rubbing the edge of Audrey’s watch. “You’re confused.”
“That must run in the family,” I said.
He ordered the attorneys outside, then locked the door. The mask vanished.
“You have no idea what Audrey put me through,” he hissed. “She was going to expose me, destroy my career, and leave me with nothing.”
“So you frightened her into obedience?”
“I protected what was mine.”
“And when she stopped cooperating?”
He stepped closer. “Old women fall. Their memories fail. Their homes catch fire. Sign the waiver.”
There it was: threat, motive, arrogance.
I signed.
Arthur exhaled and smiled.
What he did not know was that the waiver had been replaced overnight with a visually identical evidence copy prepared by my former office. What he did not know was that Julian had traced seven million dollars from Audrey’s foundation into shell companies controlled by Arthur and Jaxson. What he did not know was that the medical examiner had secured a court order before the crematorium processed Audrey’s remains. Her blood showed a dangerous drug interaction caused by pills prescribed under a false physician identifier.
And what he knew least of all was that Thomas Landry had contacted me at dawn.
Arthur had forced him to prepare the forged will. Thomas had agreed to cooperate in exchange for protection.
As Arthur poured champagne, celebrating my surrender, Thomas reentered and placed his phone face down beside the documents.
A tiny green light blinked. The investigators were listening live.
Arthur raised his glass. “To moving on.”
I lifted mine. “To consequences.”
