Chapter 7 - THE FIRST FAMILYArthur Sloan’s daughter was named Rebecca.
“I took an envelope.”
The words felt impossible.
“From Dad’s safe?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Five months ago.”
“Why?”
“Susan asked me to.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“You stole from my father because Susan asked nicely?”
“No.”
He stepped toward me.
I stepped back.
“She showed me a medical report saying Robert was developing severe cognitive impairment.”
“Written by Klein?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
“She said he had become paranoid and was hiding important legal documents. She claimed one of them could hurt you.”
“What document?”
“She said your father planned to disinherit you.”
“And you believed her?”
“I believed something was wrong with him.”
Anger burned through me.
“You saw Dad at dinner every Sunday.”
“He was forgetting things.”
“Because someone may have been poisoning him!”
“I know that now.”
I turned away.
“What was inside the envelope?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Did you give it to Susan?”
“No.”
That stopped me.
“Why not?”
“Because after I took it, I felt sick about it. I opened it.”
“And?”
“It was a copy of Robert’s estate plan.”
My heart pounded.
“What did it say?”
“That after several charitable gifts, the majority would be divided between you and a trust for Lily.”
“And Susan?”
“She would receive the house, an investment account, and a substantial cash inheritance.”
“So she wasn’t being excluded.”
“No.”
“Then why did she care?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because there was a clause.”
“What clause?”
“If Robert died under suspicious circumstances, or if Susan was charged with financially exploiting him, her inheritance would be suspended pending investigation.”
I stared at him.
Dad had protected himself.
Maybe not enough.
But he had tried.
“What did you do with the document?”
“I put it back.”
“You entered his house twice?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Emily, I know how this sounds.”
“It sounds like my husband participated in Susan’s manipulation.”
“I made a terrible decision.”
“Did you tell her what was in the envelope?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I searched his face.
“I told her I couldn’t find it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
The anonymous emails suddenly felt different.
Someone knew everything.
Susan’s movements.
Klein’s meetings.
Daniel’s mistake.
Someone had been watching all of us.
“Who sent the photos?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
We forwarded everything to Monroe.
She arrived twenty minutes later.
After listening to Daniel’s confession, she was furious—but not surprised.
“Susan appears to have built separate stories for different people,” she said.
“To isolate Robert?” I asked.
“To control information.”
Daniel showed her the safe location.
Inside, the estate papers were still there.
But one document was missing.
A letter Dad had written to his attorney.
Monroe called the attorney, a man named Samuel Price.
He came over immediately.
Samuel was in his late sixties and had known Dad longer than I had been alive.
When I mentioned the missing letter, he went quiet.
“I have the original.”
“What did it say?”
Samuel hesitated.
“Robert asked me to investigate Susan.”
The room changed.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I did.”
He opened his briefcase.
Dad had hired a private investigator.
His name was Thomas Bell.
Bell followed Susan for three weeks.
Then disappeared.
Not metaphorically.
Actually disappeared.
His car was found at an airport.
His family believed he had left voluntarily after becoming overwhelmed by personal problems.
But Samuel had never believed it.
“What did he discover?” Monroe asked.
Samuel produced a flash drive.
“He mailed this to me the day before he vanished.”
On it were photographs of Susan meeting Klein.
Bank records.
Receipts.
And one short video.
We watched it on Daniel’s laptop.
Susan stood in a parking structure.
Klein faced her.
The audio was poor, but certain phrases were clear.
“…taking too long…”
“…needs to look natural…”
“…policy requires…”
Then Klein said something we could not hear.
Susan moved closer.
Her reply came through clearly.
“Then increase it.”
I felt physically ill.
Monroe replayed the clip.
“Did Bell give you anything else?”
Samuel nodded slowly.
“One name.”
“Whose?”
“Rebecca Sloan.”
I had never heard it.
“What does she have to do with Susan?”
Samuel looked at me.
“Rebecca Sloan was married to a man named Arthur Sloan.”
“And?”
“Arthur died eight years ago after a long, unexplained illness.”
I already knew what he was going to say.
“Susan knew him.”
Samuel’s face hardened.
“Susan was his wife.”
The room went silent.
“She changed her name?”
“After his death.”
“What happened to Arthur?”
“Doctors believed he suffered from a rapidly progressing neurological disorder.”
My knees weakened.
It was the same story.
Samuel continued.
“His estate passed almost entirely to Susan.”
“How much?”
“Roughly two million dollars.”
Daniel whispered, “Oh my God.”
Monroe was already reaching for her phone.
But Samuel wasn’t finished.
“Arthur had a daughter.”
“Where is she?”
“No one knows.”
May you like
He looked down at Bell’s old file.
“She disappeared three days before her father died.”
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