Chapter 6 - THE DEAD MAN’S BENEFICIARYThe silence in the parlor grew so heavy I could hear the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway.
I stared down at the laminated paper. The signature at the bottom was mine—crisp, forged with meticulous precision, tracing every loop and angle of my natural handwriting as if copied from a tax return.
"A forensic forgery," Marcus said, his voice tight. "They didn't just embezzle corporate funds, Clare. They set up an offshore indemnity trust. If the plane crash off the Adriatic coast—the one Ethan claimed was just a delayed flight—had actually happened the way they planned..."
"I would have been listed as a passenger on a private charter registered under Hail Meridian," I finished, my voice unnervingly calm.
Evelyn stood up so fast her teacup rattled against the saucer. The color had entirely vanished from her face, leaving her looking fragile beneath the harsh amber light of the chandelier.
"My grandson," Evelyn whispered, her voice trembling with a terrifying mix of grief and rage. "He wasn't just bringing his mistress home. He was bringing his co-conspirator back to finish clearing the board."
"Not anymore," I said, picking up the document by the corner as if it were contaminated.
I walked over to the fireplace, opened the brass screen, and dropped the insurance policy directly onto the glowing embers. The paper curled, blackened, and flared into a bright orange flame before dissolving into ash.
"Where is Ethan now?" I asked Marcus.
"Still with the federal agents downtown," Marcus replied. "They picked up his phone records from the secure server. He’s been in direct contact with a maritime broker in Tangier who specializes in unregistered vessel transfers."
"Get me the head of the federal task force," I said, reaching for my phone. "Tell him the scope of the investigation just expanded from white-collar fraud to attempted conspiracy."
Before Marcus could dial, the heavy security intercom on the wall near the parlor entrance chimed.
A sharp, automated voice broke through the speaker: Alert. Perimeter breach at the east iron gates. An unregistered black sedan has rammed the security barrier.
Evelyn froze. "Who could get past the outer guards? The estate security is wired directly to the municipal precinct."
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"Not if someone on the inside gave them the override codes," I said, my eyes locking onto the mahogany double doors.
From the hallway came the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps splashing across the marble foyer, followed by the metallic click of a safety catch sliding home on a sidearm.
