Chương 3
“Assume nothing.”
“Grandpa, I’m trying to help you.”
“Then answer the question.”
Another horn sounded.
Tyler cursed under his breath.
“I saw Dad’s laptop.”
Robert’s fingers tightened around the water bottle.
“What about it?”
“He left it open this morning.”
“Doing what?”
“There was this spreadsheet.”
Tyler stopped.
“Jesus, I shouldn’t be doing this while driving.”
“Pull over,” I said.
“I am.”
We heard the hollow rumble of tires crossing pavement, then the clicking stopped.
A few seconds passed.
“Okay.”
Robert stared through the windshield.
“What spreadsheet?”
“Your stuff.”
“My stuff is not a category.”
“Bank accounts, properties, insurance, investment accounts.”
Robert looked at me.
Tyler kept talking, words coming faster now.
“He had columns with values and dates and notes.”
“What kind of notes?”
“One said ‘after signature.’”
Robert closed his eyes.
“One what?”
“I don’t remember which account.”
“Try.”
“Grandpa, I looked at it for maybe thirty seconds.”
“You texted me not to sign anything.”
“Because there was another file open.”
“What file?”
“A scanned document.”
Tyler’s voice dropped.
“It had your name on it.”
My chest tightened.
“What kind of document?” I asked.
“I think it was a deed.”
Robert opened his eyes.
“Which property?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know what my house looks like.”
“It had an address, but I didn’t read it.”
Robert leaned back, frustrated.
“You’re twenty-two years old, Tyler.”
“Yeah, I’m aware.”
“You can read an address.”
“I was in Dad’s office without permission and heard him coming.”
Robert stopped.
The anger drained from his face almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Tyler spoke more quietly.
“I took pictures.”
I turned toward the phone.
“You have them?”
“Some.”
“Send them to me.”
“No.”
Robert frowned.
“No?”
“I’ll show you in person.”
“Why?”
“Because Dad checks the phone bill.”
“That doesn’t show photos,” I said.
“I know, but he also knows my Apple password.”
I looked at Robert.
The expression on his face told me he had just recognized a familiar pattern.
“Change the password,” I said.
“I tried.”
“And?”
“He gets the recovery notifications.”
“That’s fixable.”
“I know it’s fixable.”
Tyler’s frustration sharpened.
“I’m just saying I don’t want to screw this up before I understand what’s happening.”
Robert looked down at his hands.
“Where are you?”
“QuikTrip off Shawnee Mission Parkway.”
“Stay there,” I said.
“No.”
“Tyler.”
“If Dad figures out I warned you, I’m done.”
“You’re an adult.”
“Technically.”
The bitterness in that one word was unmistakable.
Robert straightened slightly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I live in his house.”
Nobody spoke.
Tyler continued.
“My job barely covers my car payment and student loans.”
“You told me you were saving for an apartment.”
“I was.”
“What happened?”
“Dad borrowed it.”
Robert’s mouth opened, then closed.
“How much?”
“Grandpa.”
“How much?”
“Four thousand.”
“When?”
“June.”
“And you gave it to him?”
“He said he had a cash-flow issue at work.”
Robert turned his face toward the passenger window.
Daniel ran a small commercial construction company that had done well enough for him to buy a boat, remodel his kitchen twice, and explain compound interest to everyone at Christmas.
At least, that was what the family had been led to believe.
“Did he pay you back?” I asked.
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell anybody?”
Tyler gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Who?”
Robert flinched.
The answer had been aimed at more than one person.
“Meet us somewhere,” I said.
“No.”
“You have evidence.”
“I have pictures.”
“Same thing for the moment.”
“No, Michael, you don’t understand my dad.”
“I understand enough.”
“No.”
Tyler’s voice changed.
He sounded younger.
“When he gets scared, he starts making everyone choose sides.”
Robert closed his eyes again.
I had seen that too.
Daniel rarely screamed.
He did something more efficient.
He framed disagreement as betrayal, then waited to see who wanted back into his good graces.
“Where can you meet safely?” I asked.
Tyler hesitated.
“Franklin’s?”
Robert immediately shook his head.
“Not if Daniel expects us there.”
“Then where?”
I looked across the parking lot.
A woman was loading paper grocery bags into a minivan while her teenage daughter stood beside her scrolling through her phone.
For a moment I envied them.
“I have a friend with an office in Lenexa,” I said.
Robert turned.
“Who?”
“Graham.”
“Your insurance friend?”
“He’s not my insurance friend.”
“You play golf with him.”
“Twice a year.”
“That qualifies.”
I ignored him.
Graham Patel owned a small independent insurance agency in an office park near I-435.
He was discreet, practical, and deeply uninterested in other people’s family drama, which made him nearly ideal.
I called him.
He answered with, “If you’re asking me to sponsor another charity golf team, absolutely not.”
“I need a room.”
“What kind of room?”
“A private one.”
“That sounds criminal.”
“It’s not.”
“Then you’re already doing better than several clients this week.”
“I’m serious.”
There was a pause.
“So am I, unfortunately.”
I explained only that I needed a conference room for an hour with an elderly relative and an attorney.
Graham did not ask why.
“Side door,” he said.
“I’ll have Carla unlock it.”
“You’re a good man.”
“I’m charging you for coffee.”
We ended the call.
Tyler agreed to meet us there.
Before hanging up, Robert said his name.
“What?”
“You did the right thing.”
Tyler was silent.
Then he said, “I don’t know yet.”
The call ended.
Robert stared at the phone.
“That boy used to follow Daniel everywhere.”
“He’s not a boy.”
“He still eats cereal out of mixing bowls.”
“So do I.”
“That’s because Emily married beneath her.”
I started the engine.
This time Robert’s smile lasted almost five seconds.
We pulled out of the lot and headed southwest.
I called Franklin Shaw from the road.
His receptionist transferred me immediately after I said Robert was with me.
Franklin came on sounding irritated before I had finished saying hello.
“Where are you?”
“Driving.”
“To my office?”
“Change of plan.”
May you like
“That is not encouraging.”
I told him about Tyler and the photographs.
