The Smoking Gun
“Just saying goodbye to Dad’s office,” Marcus lied, walking out with a forced smile.
They loaded the truck and sped away. They didn’t stop until they reached Marcus’s house.
The siblings gathered around the dining table, spreading out the papers from the safe.
“Look at this,” Marcus said, pointing to a document dated two years prior.
It was the original will.
It left everything to Myra.
But that wasn’t the shocking part. Underneath the will was a folder of emails printed out by Ethan before he died.
Ethan had been investigating Carl. He suspected Carl was embezzling money.
“Dad didn’t trust him,” Johnny realized. “He was building a case against him.”
Then they looked at the “new” will Carl had produced.
“The signature,” Alexandra noted, squinting. “Look at the loop on the ‘J’. Dad never wrote it like that.”
It was a forgery. A sloppy one. And the lawyer, Mr. Rothstein, was in on it.
Marcus grabbed his phone.
“Who are you calling?” Myra asked from the doorway, her voice weak.
“The police,” Marcus replied.