• “She’s stealing my inheritance!” he screamed. I opened the safe in front of everyone. Inside was no money—only documents proving he had emptied Dad’s accounts months earlier.
• “Then opening the safe should settle that.”
• “It will.”
• Julian pointed at me again.
• “She has had that key for weeks.”
• “Correct.”
• “She could have emptied it.”
• Samuel nodded toward the open steel door.
• “That concern is one reason your father documented the contents.”
• Julian’s face tightened.
• “Documented how?”
• Samuel gestured toward the flash drive.
• Nobody spoke.
• I looked down at the safe.
• Six folders.
• One flash drive.
• One handwritten note.
• No money.
• No bearer bonds.
• No deeds to some secret property empire.
• Nothing Julian had spent the morning telling relatives was hidden inside.
• I picked up the first folder.
• A white label was fixed to the front.
• ACCOUNT REVIEW — FIRST NATIONAL BANK.
• Julian looked away.
• That was all I needed to see.
• I handed it to Samuel.
• He opened it.
• The first bank investigator stepped forward.
• Her name was Melissa Grant.
• She was in her forties, dressed in a gray suit, with the expression of someone who had already heard every possible version of “I didn’t know.”
• She removed a transaction summary.
• “Mr. Moreno,” she said to Julian, “do you recognize account ending in 4421?”
• He crossed his arms.
• “I recognize my father’s bank.”
• “It was one of his primary savings accounts.”
• “So?”
• Melissa looked at the paper.
• “Eight months ago, the balance was $683,420.”
• A murmur passed through the room.
• Julian glanced toward our relatives.
• Then back at her.
• Melissa continued.
• “By the time your father entered the hospital last month, the balance was $31,807.”
• My uncle Raymond frowned.
• “That can’t be right.”
• “It is.”
• Julian shrugged.
• “Dad had expenses.”
• I looked at him.
• “What expenses?”
• “He was sick.”
• I almost laughed.
• “I paid the hospital deposits.”
• “You handled some bills.”
• “All of them.”
• “You don’t know everything.”
• “No.”
• I nodded toward Melissa.
• “That is why she is here.”
• Melissa turned the page.
• “Over a period of seven months, there were nineteen withdrawals or transfers inconsistent with Mr. Moreno’s prior activity.”
• Julian’s jaw moved.
• She began reading.
• “Forty thousand dollars.”
• Next line.
• “Twenty-seven thousand five hundred.”
• Another.
• “Sixty thousand.”
• Another.
• “Eighteen thousand.”
• Serena spoke quickly.
• “Victor—”
• Julian turned on her.
• “Don’t.”
• The entire room caught it.
• Victor.
• Not Julian.
• Victor was our father’s first name.
• Serena had almost said Dad.
• Or Victor gave us permission.
• Or Victor knew.
• Whatever sentence she had been about to use, Julian did not want her finishing it.
• Samuel noticed.
• “So you were aware of the transactions, Mrs. Moreno?”
• Serena stiffened.
• “I was aware that Victor helped Julian.”
• Julian interrupted.
• “Dad gave me money all the time.”
• I stared at him.
• “No, he didn’t.”
• “You wouldn’t know.”
• “I managed his accounts for the last four months.”
• “Exactly. Last four.”
• He smiled.
• “Before that, Dad made his own decisions.”
• Melissa nodded.
• “That is something we examined.”
• Julian looked less comfortable.
• She continued.

>>PART3