Chapter 6 - The Audit and the AmbushThe morning sun cast a bright, golden glow over the Raleigh neighborhood, but inside the Walker household, the atmosphere was all business.
At 8:00 AM sharp, Marcus Vance—a sharp-witted, bulldog of a probate attorney recommended by Mrs. Harris’s son—sat at Ethan and Claire’s kitchen table. Spread out before him were the financial documents Ethan had salvaged from his mother’s desk.
Marcus adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, whistling softly through his teeth as he reviewed the bank statements.
“Well, Mr. Walker, your mother was playing a very high-stakes game,” Marcus said, tapping a legal pad with his pen. “Not only did she conceal a two-point-five-million-dollar estate, but she also transferred significant portions of the commercial real estate holdings into a private shell company bearing her maiden name just three months ago. That is textbook financial fraud and breach of fiduciary duty.”
Ethan sat across from him, arms crossed, sipping black coffee.
“Can we freeze her assets today?” Ethan asked.
“We can, and we will,” Marcus replied with a confident smirk. “I’ve already drafted the emergency injunction. By noon, the probate court judge will sign off on it, and every bank account, investment portfolio, and property deed controlled by Margaret Walker will be locked tight. She won’t even be able to buy a cup of coffee without court approval.”
Claire walked over from the kitchen counter, setting a fresh mug of coffee down for the lawyer.
“Is there any chance she can fight this?” Claire asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
“Not legally,” Marcus said, taking a sip of the coffee. “The will is ironclad, and your father left clear instructions. The moment she concealed the assets and acted in bad faith as executor, she forfeited her life estate rights. She’s cooked.”
Just as Marcus finished his sentence, the front doorbell rang.
Ding-dong.
Ethan frowned, glancing at the clock. It was barely 8:30 AM.
“Expecting someone?” Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” Ethan said, standing up. “Nobody knows we’re back yet except Mrs. Harris.”
Ethan walked down the hallway and pulled open the front door.
Standing on the porch was not Mrs. Harris, and it certainly wasn’t Margaret.
It was Detective Miller of the Raleigh Police Department, flanked by a uniform officer and a tall, impeccably dressed man holding a leather briefcase—none other than Julian Vance, Margaret’s personal corporate attorney.
Ethan’s stomach dropped.
“Ethan Walker?” Detective Miller asked, flashing a badge.
“Yes? What’s this about, Detective?” Ethan asked, his voice tightening.
May you like
Detective Miller sighed, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“I’m afraid we have a warrant for your arrest, Mr. Walker. You need to come with us.”
