Chương 4
Franklin went quiet.
“How quickly can you get to Lenexa?”
“Give me twenty-five minutes.”
“Bring whatever file you have on Robert.”
“I already have it.”
Something in his tone made me look at Robert.
“You expected him?” I asked.
Franklin did not answer immediately.
“Robert called me at eight seventeen this morning.”
My father-in-law shifted in his seat.
“What did he tell you?”
“That he believed Daniel had moved money without authorization.”
“Anything else?”
“Enough for me to start reviewing documents.”
Robert looked sharply at the speaker.
“Franklin.”
“I’m not discussing privileged details over Michael’s car audio.”
“I’m sitting right here.”
“That is precisely why.”
“I told him about the withdrawals.”
“Good.”
“Then stop behaving like you’re guarding missile codes.”
Franklin sighed.
“Some documents were filed with the county last week.”
The road seemed to narrow in front of me.
“What documents?”
“I want to see what Tyler photographed first.”
“Franklin.”
“Robert, if I tell you what I found before I examine the documents Daniel appears to be using, I may give you the wrong interpretation.”
Robert rubbed his jaw.
“Is my house still mine?”
Franklin hesitated.
That hesitation answered too much.
“Franklin.”
“Meet me in Lenexa.”
Robert ended the call himself.
For several miles he said nothing.
Traffic moved steadily around us.
A motorcycle passed on the left.
Someone in the car ahead had tied a stuffed green frog to the rear windshield wiper, and it bounced helplessly in the wind.
Robert watched it until the car exited.
“My house was Linda’s favorite thing,” he said finally.
I kept my eyes on the road.
“She hated it when you bought it.”
“She hated the kitchen.”
“She called the whole place a suburban mausoleum.”
“She had strong opinions.”
“She had correct opinions.”
He breathed out through his nose.
“She picked every cabinet we later installed.”
I could hear the memory settling over him.
Not sentimentality exactly.
Ownership.
History.
He and Linda had lived there thirty-four years.
Emily had broken her wrist falling from the oak tree in the backyard.
Daniel had lived in the basement for eight months after his first marriage ended.
Melissa’s wedding reception had been held under rented tents on the lawn because Robert refused to pay hotel ballroom prices.
Linda had died in the upstairs bedroom after six months of ovarian cancer, surrounded by hospice equipment and too many family photographs.
Losing the house would not be losing real estate.
Robert cleared his throat.
“I signed something with a legal description.”
I looked at him.
“When?”
“In the hospital.”
“You said estate documents.”
“That’s what Daniel called them.”
“Did you recognize the address?”
“It didn’t have an address.”
“Was it notarized?”
“There was a woman.”
“What woman?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hospital employee?”
“No.”
“Daniel’s employee?”
“Maybe.”
“What did she do?”
“She watched me sign and stamped something.”
I gripped the steering wheel harder.
“Robert, that matters.”
“I know that now.”
“Did she ask if you understood what you were signing?”
He considered it.
“She asked if I was signing voluntarily.”
“What did you say?”
“Yes.”
I let out a breath.
He turned toward me.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Make that face.”
“What face?”
“The face people make when an old man has done something stupid.”
“I make this face when anyone does something stupid.”
“That doesn’t improve it.”
I almost snapped back.
Instead I said, “Why did you sign?”
He was quiet for a long time.
“Because Daniel said it would make things easier.”
“For whom?”
“That is apparently the question I failed to ask.”
Graham’s office building appeared ahead, a low brick structure behind a dental practice and a tax preparation service.
Tyler’s gray Honda was already parked near the side entrance.
He stood beside it with both hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.
When he saw our SUV, he did not wave.
He looked over his shoulder.
I parked beside him.
Robert tried to get out too quickly and stumbled.
Tyler caught his elbow.
“Easy.”
“I’m fine.”
“You almost ate pavement.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Tyler kept holding him anyway.
Up close, he looked exhausted.
His dark hair was unwashed, and purple shadows sat beneath his eyes.
He resembled Daniel around the mouth, which seemed unfair at that moment.
Inside, Graham’s assistant led us to a small conference room and closed the door.
A coffee machine hissed somewhere beyond the wall.
Tyler took out his phone.
“I turned on airplane mode.”
“That does not prevent everything,” I said.
“I know.”
“Good.”
He opened his photos.
The first image showed Daniel’s laptop screen at an angle.
A spreadsheet filled most of it.
Tyler zoomed in.
Robert’s accounts were listed in rows.
Beside them were amounts, dates, and initials.
Three numbers matched the withdrawals from Robert’s statement.
Beside each was the same notation.
DB Holdings.
“Do you know what that is?” I asked.
Robert shook his head.
Tyler swiped to the next photograph.
A scanned quitclaim deed filled the screen.
The image was crooked, but the names were readable.
Grantor: Robert A. Harrison.
Grantee: DBH Property Group LLC.
Robert stopped breathing for a second.
“That’s my house.”
The conference-room door opened.
Franklin Shaw entered carrying a leather briefcase and a thick paper file.
He saw the image on Tyler’s phone.
His expression hardened.
Then he set one document on the table in front of Robert.
It bore the same company name.
DBH Property Group LLC.
Franklin removed his glasses.
“That company was formed six weeks ago.”
Robert looked up at him.
“By Daniel?”
Franklin shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed to the registered organizer printed near the bottom of the page.
Robert stared at the name.
So did I.
Melissa Harrison Cole.
Robert did not move.
Tyler leaned over the table as if the name might rearrange itself if he stared hard enough.
“Melissa?”
Franklin nodded once.
“According to the Secretary of State filing, yes.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Tyler said.
May you like
Robert’s hand closed slowly around the edge of the table.
“It makes enough sense.”
