Chapter 4
I called Jacob eleven times.
He didn't answer once.
On the twelfth call, the phone went directly to voicemail.
Lauren paced the kitchen.
“What documents?”
“I don't know.”
“What could he have had?”
“Mom's estate paperwork. Trust records. Business records.”
“Why would Jacob give any of that to Daniel?”
I already knew the most likely answer.
“Money.”
Our brother had spent most of his adult life one bad decision away from disaster.
Sports betting.
Bad investments.
Loans.
Promises.
He wasn't evil.
At least I had never believed he was.
He was simply the kind of person who convinced himself that one more mistake would fix the previous ten.
Our mother had spent years rescuing him.
Then, before she died, she stopped.
She left him money in a controlled trust.
She left me direct ownership of her investment portfolio and her shares in Halston Packaging, the small manufacturing company she had helped build with our father.
Jacob had called it favoritism.
Mom called it survival.
Maya asked me to send every estate document I had.
Most were gone from the safe.
But my mother's attorney still had copies.
By nine that morning, Maya had contacted him.
By ten, she was sitting across from Lauren and me in her downtown office.
She was younger than I expected.
Maybe forty.
Dark hair pulled back.
No dramatic speeches.
No wasted movements.
She spread documents across the conference table.
“The house transfer is fraudulent if what you're telling me is accurate.”
“It is.”
“The bank transfers may be recoverable, depending on where the funds went.”
“And the divorce papers?”
“Those are strange.”
“Strange how?”
“They don't appear to have been filed.”
I stared at her.
“Then what were they for?”
“Possibly to deceive Emily.”
“That seems like a lot of work just to hide an affair.”
“I agree.”
She slid one page toward me.
“This language isn't from a standard Illinois divorce filing.”
I looked down.
“What is it?”
“A marital settlement provision.”
I didn't understand.
Maya tapped a paragraph.
“It states that you relinquish claims to several assets acquired after the stated date of separation.”
“Assets like what?”
“That is what we need to determine.”
Lauren leaned forward.
“You think Daniel was planning to buy something?”
“Or transfer something.”
My phone buzzed.
Emily.
CAN WE MEET?
I showed Maya.
She frowned.
“Public place.”
An hour later, the three of us met Emily at a crowded coffee shop two blocks from Maya's office.
Emily looked terrible.
No makeup.
Hair tied back.
Dark circles under her eyes.
She sat down and immediately slid a key across the table.
“What is this?” I asked.
“The condo.”
I looked at Maya.
Emily spoke quickly.
“Daniel bought it through a company called Lakeview Residential Holdings.”
Maya wrote the name down.
“When?”
“July.”
“Do you know who owns the company?”
“I thought Daniel did.”
“With what money?”
Emily's eyes filled.
“I didn't know he was stealing from you.”
“Stop saying that.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“I believe you.”
The tears fell anyway.
“I feel like an idiot.”
“So do I.”
For the first time, we looked at each other without anger.
Two women who had both believed the same man.
In different ways.
Emily wiped her face.
“He proposed to me.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
She reached into her bag.
A diamond ring.
She placed it on the table.
“I haven't worn it since last night.”
I stared at it.
It was expensive.
Very expensive.
Maya asked, “Did he pay cash?”
“I don't know.”
“Where did he buy it?”
Emily gave her the jeweler's name.
Then she swallowed.
“There's something else.”
Of course there was.
There was always something else.
“Daniel asked me questions about Sarah's mother's company.”
I leaned forward.
“What questions?”
“At first they sounded casual. Whether I knew anything about privately held shares. How valuations worked during divorce. Whether ownership transferred before filing could still be challenged.”
“What do you do?”
“Corporate accounting.”
Maya and I exchanged a look.
Emily continued.
“He said he had a client going through a messy divorce.”
“Daniel isn't a lawyer.”
“He said it involved one of his company's clients.”
“What else?”
“He asked about minority shareholder sales.”
My mouth went dry.
“How much did you tell him?”
“General things. Nothing confidential. I swear.”
Maya asked, “Did he ever mention Halston Packaging?”
Emily's face changed.
“Yes.”
My hands went cold.
“When?”
“Several times.”
“What did he say?”
“That Sarah inherited shares that were basically worthless because the company was struggling.”
I almost laughed.
Halston wasn't struggling.
We had received an acquisition proposal six months earlier.
The company wanted to buy us out.
My shares alone were estimated at nearly four million dollars.
Daniel knew that.
He had sat beside me when I received the preliminary valuation.
“He knew exactly what they were worth,” I said.
Emily closed her eyes.
“Oh God.”
Maya leaned forward.
“Did Daniel ever ask you to prepare financial calculations involving Sarah's shares?”
“Yes.”
She looked ashamed.
“He gave me hypothetical numbers.”
“What numbers?”
Emily opened her laptop.
“I saved the spreadsheet.”
She turned the screen.
There it was.
3,870,000.
My exact preliminary valuation.
The room seemed to tilt.
“What was he calculating?” I asked.
Emily pointed.
“Tax consequences if ownership was transferred through an LLC before a marital dissolution.”
Maya sat back.
“This is not just an affair.”
“I know.”
“No, Sarah. I mean legally. If these documents connect, we're potentially looking at an organized attempt to move your separate property.”
“By my husband and his mother.”
“And possibly your brother.”
My phone rang.
Jacob.
I answered instantly.
“Where are you?”
“Sarah—”
“Where are you?”
“A motel near O'Hare.”
“Give me the address.”
“I can't.”
“You texted me that you gave Daniel documents.”
“I did.”
“What documents?”
Silence.
“Jacob.”
“He paid my debts.”
I closed my eyes.
“How much?”
“Eighty thousand.”
Emily covered her mouth.
Lauren wasn't with us, but I could hear her voice in my head.
Of course.
“What did you give him?”
“Copies of Mom's estate plan.”
“What else?”
“Old signature samples.”
I stopped breathing.
Maya motioned for me to put the phone on speaker.
I did.
“Why would he need my signature samples?”
“He told me you were contesting something.”
“What?”
“He said Mom had promised him part of the company shares and you were refusing to honor it.”
“You believed that?”
“I wanted to.”
The honesty hurt worse.
“What else did you give him?”
“A copy of Mom's letter.”
My stomach dropped.
“What letter?”
“The one she wrote before she died.”
“I never got a letter.”
Another silence.
My voice broke.
“Jacob, what letter?”
“She wrote one to both of us.”
“You told me there wasn't one.”
“I know.”
“Where is it?”
“Daniel has it.”
I pressed my fist against my mouth.
Maya asked calmly, “Jacob, this is Maya Patel. I'm representing Sarah. Did Daniel ask you for anything related to a safe-deposit box?”
Jacob went silent.
My heart started pounding.
“Jacob?”
“He knew about it?”
Maya looked at me.
I didn't understand.
“What safe-deposit box?”
Jacob swore under his breath.
“Mom had one.”
“Where?”
“First Chicago Trust.”
“What was inside?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear. Mom told me not to touch it.”
“Then how did Daniel know?”
“Because I showed him the key.”
I stared at the broken necklace on the table.
Something clicked in my memory.
My mother's jewelry box.
The velvet drawer.
A small brass key that had always sat beneath the necklace.
After Mom died, I had moved everything into my house.
I hadn't seen that key in years.
“You gave him the key?”
“No. I showed him a picture.”
“Why?”
“He asked whether Mom had any safe-deposit accounts.”
Maya was already typing.
“When was this?”
“About nine months ago.”
Before the life insurance policy.
Before the forged deed.
Before the stolen necklace.
“Jacob,” I whispered, “what was Daniel looking for?”
“I don't know.”
Then his voice broke.
“But I know he found something.”
“How?”
“Because after he went to the bank, he called me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said Mom had been smarter than all of us.”
The call ended.
I immediately called back.
His phone was off.
Maya stood.
“We need to contact the bank.”
First Chicago Trust had merged twice since my mother opened the box.
It took nearly an hour to reach the right department.
Then a manager named Cynthia came on the line.
Maya identified herself.
I verified my identity.
Cynthia searched.
“Yes, Mrs. Miller. There was a safe-deposit box under Margaret Reynolds.”
“Who had access?”
“I'm showing Mrs. Reynolds as the primary holder and Sarah Reynolds Miller as authorized co-holder.”
“I didn't know that.”
“There was also a temporary access authorization executed before Mrs. Reynolds's death.”
“For who?”
A pause.
“Daniel Miller.”
My heart stopped.
“My husband?”
“Yes.”
“I never authorized him.”
“The authorization bears your signature.”
Maya closed her eyes.
“When was the box last accessed?” she asked.
Typing.
Then Cynthia said, “Approximately seven months ago.”
“By whom?”
“Daniel Miller.”
I gripped the table.
“What's in the box now?”
Another pause.
“Mrs. Miller…”
“What?”
“The box was closed that same day.”
“Closed?”
“Yes.”
“Who removed the contents?”
“Daniel Miller.”
Emily whispered, “Jesus.”
Maya remained calm.
“Do you have surveillance?”
“Our archival period may include that date.”
“Preserve it.”
“I'll need a formal request.”
“You'll have one today.”
I barely heard them.
All I could think about was my mother.
Her final months.
Her papers.
Her missing letter.
Her secrets.
And Daniel walking into a bank with my forged signature and removing whatever she had protected there.
My phone buzzed.
This time it was a message from Daniel.
A photograph.
My mother's handwritten letter.
Only the first line was visible.
Sarah,
If you are reading this, then someone has finally found what I was too afraid to tell you while I was alive.
May you like
Beneath the photo Daniel had written:
COME HOME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE REST.
