Chapter 2: The Sixty-Thousand-Dollar Secret
I didn't remember driving home that afternoon.
I only remembered Robert's words repeating in my head.
Your daughters' funds appear to have been withdrawn.
When I walked through the front door, Paige was sitting at the kitchen island sorting through the mail.
She immediately noticed my expression.
"Connor? What's wrong?""
I put my briefcase down.
"Do you remember my father ever mentioning money for the grandchildren?""
Paige looked confused.
"Your father? No. Why?""
I pulled out my phone.
"Apparently, he established a sixty-thousand-dollar trust before he died. All four grandchildren were supposed to receive equal shares.""
Paige stopped sorting the envelopes.
"Wait. Sixty thousand?""
"Yes.""
"And your mother was managing it?""
I nodded.
Paige slowly put down the mail.
"Then what happened to Emma and Riley's money?""
"That's what the attorney is investigating.""
I called Robert back and arranged to meet him the following morning.
At 9:30 a.m., I walked into his office carrying every document I could find relating to my father's estate.
Robert was in his early sixties, with silver hair and a pair of reading glasses resting on his desk.
He motioned toward a chair.
"Mr. Bennett, I want to show you something.""
He opened a folder and placed a document in front of me.
It was a copy of my father's original trust agreement.
My father's signature appeared at the bottom.
I recognized it immediately.
He had always signed his name with a distinctive curved B.
Robert pointed to a paragraph.
"Your father specified that the funds were to be divided equally among his four grandchildren. The trustee could manage the investments, but distributions had to benefit the named beneficiaries.""
I read the paragraph twice.
"So Melissa's daughters received fifteen thousand dollars each?""
"Approximately, yes. Their distributions were made in several installments.""
"And Emma and Riley?""
Robert removed another sheet.
"According to the records, neither girl has received a direct distribution.""
I felt heat rising in my face.
"How much is missing?""
"At least twenty-eight thousand dollars from the allocations belonging to your daughters. We are still reviewing the remaining transactions.""
I leaned forward.
"Where did the money go?""
Robert turned his laptop toward me.
A list of bank transfers appeared.
Several payments had been sent to an account associated with Melissa.
Others were marked as medical expenses, educational expenses, and emergency family assistance.
One entry caught my attention.
$12,800 — Emergency pediatric surgery — Riley Bennett.
I stared at the screen.
"What is that?""
Robert adjusted his glasses.
"It was submitted as a medical expense for your younger daughter.""
"That's impossible.""
"Why?""
"Riley has never had surgery. She's never even been admitted to a hospital.""
Robert didn't respond immediately.
He printed the transaction record and handed it to me.
The document listed a hospital in Charlotte, a surgical department, and a date from the previous year.
I knew exactly where Riley had been that day.
At school.
She had participated in a science fair and brought home a cardboard volcano that afternoon.
I remembered helping her clean glitter from the kitchen floor.
There had been no surgery.
No emergency.
Nothing.
"Could this be a clerical error?"" I asked.
Robert folded his hands.
"Possibly. But I wouldn't recommend assuming that.""
He opened another document.
"This transaction was accompanied by a medical authorization form. It bears your mother's signature as trustee.""
I felt sick.
"Can we get the hospital records?""
"We've already requested confirmation. The hospital has indicated that the patient information doesn't match its records.""
I sat back.
For years, my mother had told relatives that she was financially supporting Melissa because her family needed help.
I had never questioned it.
Melissa's husband had changed jobs several times. They had a larger mortgage and expensive tastes. Mom constantly talked about how difficult things were for them.
Meanwhile, Paige and I had worked hard to provide for our daughters.
We weren't wealthy, but we paid our bills, saved for college, and made sure our girls never went without necessities.
Apparently, someone had decided that wasn't enough.
Robert interrupted my thoughts.
"There's something else you should understand. A trustee has a legal duty to act in the beneficiaries' interests. This isn't your mother's personal money.""
I looked at him.
"Then what happens now?""
"We request a complete accounting. We preserve the bank records. And if the evidence supports it, we petition the court for her removal as trustee and recovery of the funds.""
I nodded.
"Do it.""
That evening, Paige and I sat at the dining room table reviewing the copies Robert had given me.
She was quiet for several minutes.
Then she stopped at another transaction.
"Connor.""
I looked over.
"What?""
She pointed to the screen.
"Look at these dates.""
There were three separate withdrawals over eleven months.
One for $4,500.
Another for $7,200.
And another for $12,800.
All were connected to accounts associated with Melissa.
Paige opened the next page.
"These payments were made before your mother announced the Disney trip.""
I stared at the dates.
"What's your point?""
"Look at the descriptions. Educational enrichment. Medical assistance. Child welfare expenses.""
She looked up.
"How much of this money was actually spent on Emma and Riley?""
I couldn't answer.
Paige scrolled farther.
Then she found a transfer I hadn't noticed.
$6,400 — Summer travel and accommodation.
The recipient was a resort booking company.
The reservation name was Melissa Bennett.
Paige covered her mouth.
"Connor, she used their inheritance to pay for your sister's vacation.""
I stood up so quickly that my chair scraped against the floor.
"That's enough.""
"Where are you going?""
"To call Robert.""
But before I could reach my phone, another email arrived.
It was from the attorney.
The subject line read:
URGENT: Additional Documents Located.
I opened the attachment.
The first page showed another withdrawal.
The second showed a medical authorization.
The third showed a signature that made my blood run cold.
It belonged to my father.
May you like
But my father had been dead for six years.
And the document was dated just eleven months ago.
