June kept one finger on the photograph as if touching it might force the image to become something else.
Nobody spoke.
The bank conference room had gone so quiet that I could hear the air conditioner clicking on overhead. Dale stood near the door with his jaw locked. Mark had stopped looking angry and now looked sick. Aunt Carol had one hand pressed against her chest, her broken heel forgotten on the carpet beside her chair.
June lifted her phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Calling him.”
Mr. Vernon’s expression tightened. “June, I would advise against discussing specific account information.”
“I’m not discussing accounts.”
She found Robert’s number.
“I’m asking my father why he lied to my face.”
Dale shifted toward the door again.
Mark noticed.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“No.”
Dale stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“You don’t get to hold me here.”
Mark stepped between him and the door. “Then stay because walking out right now makes you look guilty.”
“I don’t care how I look.”
“You should.”
June pressed call.
Every head turned toward her.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Robert answered on the fourth.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
June closed her eyes.
His voice was warm.
Normal.
That seemed to hurt her more than anger would have.
“Dad.”
“You all done at the lawyer’s?”
She looked at Mr. Vernon.
“You knew there was a will reading today?”
“Of course. Carol mentioned it.”
Aunt Carol’s head snapped up.
“I did not.”
June heard her.
So did Robert.
There was a pause.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
June switched the phone to speaker and set it on the table.
“Where are you?”
Another pause.
“At the hotel.”
“What hotel?”
“The Hampton.”
“In Salina?”
“Yes.”
June’s face changed.
“You told me this morning you were driving back to Colorado after the funeral.”
“I changed plans.”
“Why?”
“June, what is this?”
She looked down at the photograph.
“Were you at Grandpa’s house nine days ago?”
Silence.
Not confusion.
Not a quick denial.
Silence.
June leaned closer to the phone.
“Dad?”
Robert exhaled.
“I stopped by.”
Her eyes closed.
“When?”
“A week or two ago. I don’t remember exactly.”
“You told me today you hadn’t been in Kansas since Christmas before Grandpa went into hospice.”
“I said I hadn’t stayed in Kansas.”
“No.”
June’s voice remained soft.
“You said you hadn’t been here.”
Robert’s tone hardened slightly.
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“Were you inside Grandpa’s study?”
Another pause.
“June.”
“Were you?”
“Why are you interrogating me?”
“Because Grandpa had a camera.”
The silence that followed was different.
Heavy.
Complete.
Dale muttered something under his breath.
June looked at him.
Then back at the phone.
Robert spoke carefully.
“What camera?”
“The one that photographed you opening Grandpa’s filing cabinet.”
Aunt Carol sat down.
Mark stared at the table.
Robert did not answer.
June’s thumb pressed against the edge of her phone until the skin turned white.
“I can see you, Dad.”
“I had permission to be there.”
“From Grandpa?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Vernon looked at June.
She saw the answer in his face.
“No, you didn’t.”
“You don’t know what conversations your grandfather and I had.”
“He made a recording.”
Another pause.
“What recording?”
“He said somebody searched his office. He said he never gave permission.”
Robert’s voice changed.
The warmth disappeared.
“Who is with you?”
June looked around the room.
“Why does that matter?”
“Who is there?”
“Mr. Vernon. Mark. Dale. Carol. Me.”
Robert swore quietly.
Aunt Carol stiffened.
“Robert?”
He ignored her.
“June, do not sign anything.”
Too late.
She glanced at the acceptance documents.
“Why?”
“Because there are things you don’t understand.”
“What things?”
“Your grandfather was making decisions he had no business making.”
Mr. Vernon’s eyebrows rose.
June’s voice cooled.
“His doctors said he was competent.”
“Doctors see somebody for twenty minutes.”
“I saw him every week.”
“That doesn’t make you qualified.”
“No.”
June swallowed.
“But it makes me qualified to know he wasn’t confused.”
Robert sighed.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want you dragged into it.”
“Dragged into what?”
“Family finances.”
“Grandpa’s finances.”
“They affected everyone.”
June looked toward Aunt Carol.
“That seems to be a popular belief today.”
Robert lowered his voice.
“Listen to me. Whatever Vernon told you, don’t make any decisions until we talk.”
“I already did.”
Silence.
“What did you sign?”
June hesitated.
Mr. Vernon shook his head once.
She understood.
“I’m not discussing that.”
Robert’s tone sharpened.
“June.”
“Why did your computer try to access Grandpa’s investment account this morning?”
The reaction on the other end was immediate.
“What?”
“Six failed attempts.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The device belongs to you.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Mr. Vernon quietly slid the report toward June.
She read the identifying information again.
“Dad, it was your laptop.”
“I sold that laptop.”
“When?”
“Months ago.”
June looked at the report.
“It accessed the same account three weeks ago.”
Robert stopped talking.
The room seemed to shrink.
June’s voice became almost a whisper.
“Were you trying to get into Grandpa’s money after his funeral?”
“No.”
“Then who was?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you give Dale access?”
Dale’s face went rigid.
Robert answered too quickly.
“No.”
June looked directly at Dale.
“Interesting.”
Dale exploded.
“Why are you looking at me?”
“Because you reacted before he answered.”
“I’m standing in a room where everyone is accusing me of forgery.”
“Your company is on the documents.”
“That doesn’t mean I wrote them.”
Robert’s voice cut through the speaker.
“Dale is there?”
Nobody answered.
“June, leave the bank.”
She looked down at the phone.
“Why?”
“Just leave.”
“I’m not a child.”
“I said leave.”
“And I asked why.”
Robert exhaled hard.
“Because you don’t know who you can trust.”
June laughed once.
It was bitter enough to silence everyone.
“You’re right.”
“June—”
“I trusted you.”
Her father said nothing.
“You hugged me today.”
“I am your father.”
“You told me Grandpa knew I loved him.”
“He did.”
“You searched his house.”
“I was trying to protect him.”
“From what?”
“From people who were taking advantage of him.”
June stared at the signed trust acceptance.
“People like me?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Robert did not answer.
She pressed.
“Who?”
“Vernon. Albright. Financial advisers. Your grandfather surrounded himself with strangers who convinced him he needed complicated trusts and restrictions.”
Mr. Vernon’s face remained neutral.
June’s did not.
“You think Grandpa Harold Parker let bankers bully him?”
“Everyone gets old.”
“He wasn’t stupid.”
“I didn’t say stupid.”
“You don’t have to.”
Aunt Carol leaned toward the phone.
“Robert, did Dad promise you the farm?”
June looked sharply at her.
Robert said, “Carol, stay out of this.”
Her face flushed.
“You told me he was keeping it in the family.”
“Not now.”
“You said after Mom died he planned to divide it among us.”
“Carol.”
“You knew he sold it?”
Robert did not answer.
That was enough.
Aunt Carol stood.
“You knew.”
“Sit down.”
“You knew Dad sold the farm and you let me walk into that lawyer’s office like an idiot.”
“I’m trying to fix this.”
June’s gaze sharpened.
“Fix what?”
Robert stopped.
Everyone heard it.
The word had escaped before he could pull it back.
June leaned toward the phone.
“What are you trying to fix?”
“Nothing.”
“You just said it.”
“I meant the conflict.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Mark spoke for the first time.
“Uncle Robert, what is Prairie Heritage Holdings?”
Dale spun toward him.
“Mark.”
“No. I want to hear his answer.”
Robert went quiet again.
June’s eyes moved between Dale and the phone.
“Dad?”
“I’ve heard the name.”
Dale swore.
Mark turned.
“You said you didn’t know anything about it.”
“I said it’s my contracting company.”
“No. Two minutes ago you said you had no idea why it was on those documents.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s exactly the same thing.”
June lifted one hand.
“Stop.”
They did.
She focused on her father.
“Did you prepare those property transfers?”
“No.”
“Did Dale?”
“No.”
Dale snapped, “Thanks.”
Robert continued.
“Your grandfather asked me months ago about consolidating assets.”
Mr. Vernon leaned forward slightly.
June noticed.
“Grandpa asked you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he ask?”
“He wanted to simplify things.”
“Through Dale’s company?”
Robert hesitated.
“We discussed several structures.”
Mr. Vernon finally spoke.
“Robert, this is Richard Vernon.”
A silence followed.
Then Robert’s voice became flat.
“I know who you are.”
“Harold never authorized Prairie Heritage Holdings to receive his property.”
“I didn’t say he did.”
“You implied it.”
“I said we discussed options.”
“Then you should have records.”
Robert laughed without humor.
“You’re not my lawyer.”
“No.”
Mr. Vernon folded his hands.
“But I am one of the people who will be providing documents to law enforcement if June authorizes it.”
Dale stepped backward.
June looked at him.
“You’re afraid.”
“I’m angry.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You’re afraid.”
Robert’s voice rose through the phone.
“June, do not involve police until we talk.”
That settled something in her.
I watched it happen.
Until then, part of her had still been searching for an explanation that let Robert remain her father in the way she had always understood him.
The sentence destroyed that possibility.
She picked up the photograph again.
Grandpa’s hidden camera.
Robert kneeling at the filing cabinet.
“What would the police find?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why do you care?”
“Because once you turn family business into a criminal investigation, you can’t undo it.”
June’s jaw tightened.
“Grandpa thought someone forged his signature.”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“Forgery is not a misunderstanding.”
“You don’t know who signed it.”
“Grandpa said he didn’t.”
“Then maybe the document was a draft.”
“With his signature?”
Robert did not answer.
June looked at Mr. Vernon.
“What do I need to do?”
“To authorize release of the relevant materials?”
“Yes.”
He slid a form toward her.
Robert heard the rustle of paper.
“June.”
She picked up the pen.
“Don’t.”
Her hand paused.
Not because she agreed.
Because that single word sounded like her father again.
The man who had taught her to ride a bicycle by running beside her down a gravel road.
The man who mailed her twenty dollars every birthday even after she turned thirty.
The man who called when her marriage ended and drove seven hours with a toolbox because he thought fixing a leaking sink might help.
June stared at the photograph.
“Tell me the truth.”
Robert’s breathing was audible.
“Right now.”
“June—”
“If you tell me the truth right now, I will listen.”
Nobody moved.
She gave him the opening.
He knew it.
We all did.
Robert finally said, “Your grandfather was going to destroy everything.”
June frowned.
“What?”
“He was angry. Bitter. He was punishing people.”
“For not visiting?”
“For old grievances. For your grandmother’s estate. For business decisions. For things that happened thirty years ago.”
June’s face remained still.
“So you decided to move his property without permission?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Did you forge his signature?”
“No.”
“Did Dale?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you know the document existed?”
Robert said nothing.
June waited.
Then she signed the release.
The pen scratched across the paper.
Robert heard it.
“What did you do?”
“I chose Grandpa.”
“June.”
“You should have done the same.”
She ended the call.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Dale bolted.
He moved so suddenly Mark barely reacted.
The conference-room door flew open.
Dale crossed the lobby at a run.
“Stop him!” Aunt Carol shouted.
The bank guard moved toward him, but Dale shoved through the outer doors before anyone could reach him.
Mark ran after him.
June stayed seated.
I expected her to follow.
She didn’t.
Her face had gone pale.
Mr. Vernon looked through the glass.
“Should I call police?”
June stared at her father’s photograph.
“Yes.”
Then her phone vibrated.
One message.
From Robert.
She opened it.
There were only seven words.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT DALE HAS.
June handed me the phone.
Outside, tires screamed across the parking lot.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: Dale Fled the Bank With Something Grandpa Had Been Protecting, and June Realized the Forged Transfer Was Only the Beginning
Grandpa’s Will Gave Every Grandchild One Dollar, Then the Attorney Set a Sealed Envelope in Front of June
Part 5 of 16
