Chapter 8: The Woman Who Helped Her Steal
Martin opened the attachment in his car.
The photograph was slightly blurred, but the document was unmistakable.
Arthur's signature appeared at the bottom.
Two witness signatures were visible.
And beside them was a date.
Three days before his death.
Dean leaned over the center console.
"Can you tell who sent it?""
"No.""
"Can you tell whether it's real?""
Martin zoomed in.
"I'll need the original to verify it. But the handwriting matches Arthur's.""
He studied the lower portion.
Then he noticed something.
The document included a handwritten note beside the witness signatures.
*Original stored in the Reeves office safe.*
Martin's face changed.
"My office.""
Dean turned toward him.
"What's wrong?""
Martin looked at the photograph again.
"The original was never supposed to leave my office.""
"Then how did it disappear?""
Martin didn't answer.
He started the engine.
"Take me home.""
Martin's law office occupied the second floor of an old building above a pharmacy.
He unlocked the door and hurried inside.
The receptionist, Elaine, looked up from her desk.
"Mr. Reeves? I thought you were meeting Mrs. Whitmore.""
"I was. Elaine, did anyone enter my office yesterday?""
She looked confused.
"Not that I know of.""
"Check the security log.""
Elaine opened the computer.
After a few seconds, she frowned.
"There's something strange.""
"What?""
"The electronic lock was accessed twice last week using your master code.""
Martin stared at her.
"Who used it?""
Elaine turned the monitor.
A name appeared.
*Patricia Collins.*
Dean exhaled.
"There's your answer.""
Martin walked toward his private office.
The safe was hidden behind a framed photograph of his law school graduation.
He entered the combination.
The door opened.
Inside were several folders, property deeds, and old client files.
But the Whitmore estate folder was gone.
Martin stared at the empty space.
He checked the surrounding shelves.
Nothing.
Elaine appeared at the doorway.
"Mr. Reeves?""
Martin turned.
"Call the police. Someone has stolen confidential legal documents.""
Elaine picked up the phone.
Dean examined the safe.
"Could Patricia have taken the original?""
Martin nodded.
"She had access through a temporary filing arrangement. I trusted her to organize some documents when Elaine was recovering from surgery.""
Dean looked at him.
"How well did you know her?""
"She was Laura's friend. She presented herself as a bookkeeper and notary assistant.""
"Did you ever suspect her?""
Martin shook his head.
"I had no reason to.""
Dean looked at the empty folder space.
"Neither did Mabel.""
Martin sat heavily in his chair.
For a moment, he looked much older.
Then he straightened.
"There's one thing Patricia may have overlooked.""
He opened a desk drawer and removed a small notebook.
"Arthur was meticulous. He made copies of everything.""
He flipped through the pages until he found an entry.
*Whitmore Final Will — Duplicate deposited with First County Bank.*
Dean looked up.
"Why would a bank have a copy?""
"Arthur wanted an independent record. He didn't trust that all his documents would remain safe after his death.""
Martin immediately called the bank's legal department.
After a brief conversation, he hung up.
"They still have it.""
Dean smiled faintly.
"Then let's go.""
First County Bank was preparing to close when Martin and Dean arrived.
A senior manager named Harold met them in a private office.
"Mr. Reeves, I've reviewed your request. We do have a sealed document registered under Arthur Whitmore's name.""
Martin nodded.
"I need to verify it.""
Harold disappeared into a secure records room.
He returned five minutes later carrying a thick envelope.
The seal was intact.
Martin carefully examined the markings.
Then he signed the receipt.
Harold handed him the envelope.
"Your client will need to be present when it's opened.""
Martin smiled.
"She will be.""
But as they turned to leave, Harold spoke again.
"There's something else you should know.""
Martin stopped.
"What?""
"Someone requested access to this document six months ago.""
"Who?""
Harold checked the records.
"Laura Whitmore.""
Dean shook his head.
"Of course.""
Harold continued.
"She presented a power-of-attorney document and claimed her mother had authorized her to manage all estate matters.""
"Did you release the will?""
"No. The document didn't grant her authority over sealed estate records.""
Martin nodded.
"Good.""
Harold hesitated.
"She became very upset. She said the bank would regret refusing her.""
Dean looked at Martin.
"She's running out of places to hide.""
Martin tucked the envelope into his briefcase.
"Not yet.""
Back at Mabel's house, Emily was sitting on the floor beside her grandmother.
They were looking through an old photo album.
"That's Mom," Emily said, pointing to a picture of Laura at eight years old.
Mabel smiled.
"She had the biggest collection of dolls in the neighborhood.""
"Was she nice?""
Mabel considered the question.
"She could be very kind.""
Emily looked at another photograph.
"Do you think she'll ever be nice again?""
Mabel didn't answer immediately.
She brushed a strand of hair from Emily's face.
"I hope so, sweetheart. But being nice doesn't mean you let someone hurt you.""
The door opened.
Dean and Martin entered.
Mabel stood.
"Did you find it?""
Martin placed the sealed envelope on the coffee table.
"I believe we did.""
Mabel looked at the handwriting.
Arthur's name.
Her name.
The date.
Her hands began to shake.
Martin carefully broke the seal.
Inside were six pages.
He read through the first page silently.
Then he smiled.
"Mrs. Whitmore, your husband left very specific instructions.""
Mabel sat down.
"What did he say?""
Martin began reading.
I, Arthur James Whitmore, being of sound mind, leave my home and personal property to my wife, Mabel Whitmore.
Mabel closed her eyes.
I leave the remainder of my investment portfolio and protected trust to her sole control.
Martin turned the page.
My granddaughter, Emily Whitmore, shall receive the full benefit of the education trust established in her name.
Emily smiled faintly.
Then Martin reached the final page.
His expression changed.
He read the final paragraph twice.
"There's something important here.""
Dean leaned closer.
"What?""
Martin looked at Mabel.
"Arthur included a condition concerning Laura.""
Mabel's face tightened.
"What condition?""
Martin read aloud.
If my daughter, Laura Whitmore, attempts to falsify documents, conceal this will, or improperly obtain control of her mother's assets, she shall forfeit any remaining discretionary inheritance under this estate.
Mabel looked stunned.
"Arthur knew.""
Martin nodded.
"He anticipated this possibility.""
He turned the page.
At the bottom was a second clause.
It named a person who would receive the responsibility of overseeing the estate if Mabel became unable to manage it herself.
Mabel leaned forward.
"Who?""
Martin pointed to the name.
*Daniel Whitmore.*
Dean frowned.
"Who is Daniel?""
Mabel stared at the paper.
Then she whispered:
"Laura's younger brother.""
Martin looked up.
"Arthur had another child?""
Mabel nodded slowly.
"Daniel was adopted. He left home when he was nineteen.""
"Do you know where he is?""
Mabel shook her head.
"Laura told me he died in a car accident.""
Martin went completely still.
"Mrs. Whitmore, according to this document, your husband named Daniel as the alternate trustee.""
Dean looked at the attorney.
"Can you find him?""
Martin closed the will.
"I can try.""
Then his phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
He answered.
A man's voice spoke.
"Mr. Reeves? My name is Daniel Whitmore.""
Martin stood.
"Daniel?""
"Yes. I received your message.""
Martin looked at Mabel.
"Where are you?""
The man paused.
Then he said something that made Mabel grab the arm of her chair.
"I've been trying to contact my mother for almost three years.""
Martin swallowed.
"Where have you been?""
"Prison.""
The room went silent.
Daniel continued.
"I was convicted of stealing money from my father's estate.""
Mabel covered her mouth.
"What?""
Martin put the phone on speaker.
Daniel's voice broke.
"Mom, I didn't do it.""
Mabel began crying.
"Daniel?""
"Yes, Mom.""
"You're alive?""
A long silence followed.
Then Daniel whispered:
"Mom, I need you to listen carefully. Laura wasn't just stealing your money.""
May you like
He took a breath.
"She framed me for it.""
