Chapter 4 - MY MOTHER’S NECKLACE
I went to the police.
They were polite.
Which is often what people are when they don’t plan to help you.
Detective Harris reviewed the threatening message.
“Could be someone trying to scare you because of the inheritance dispute.”
“That’s exactly what it is.”
He nodded.
“But proving who sent it is different.”
“What about the timestamp?”
“Could be altered.”
“What about Dad’s safe?”
“Was there a reported burglary?”
“No.”
“Then we’ll need more than a photograph.”
I left angry.
By the time I reached my apartment, anger had turned into something more useful.
Suspicion.
Why send the picture?
If someone wanted me to stop digging, why give me evidence that something happened after Dad died?
Unless the threat wasn’t really a threat.
Maybe it was a clue.
I enlarged the image again.
The safe.
Desk.
Bookshelf.
A family photograph.
Then I noticed something reflected in the glass cabinet.
A person.
Only a fragment.
Blue sleeve.
Silver watch.
I knew that watch.
Lucas wore it constantly.
Dad gave it to him on his twenty-first birthday.
A Patek Philippe worth more than my first car, my second car, and probably the apartment I rented put together.
I called Lucas.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“What?”
“Where were you the night Dad died?”
Silence.
Then laughter.
“Seriously?”
“Answer me.”
“At home.”
“With Elaine?”
“She’s my mother, Claire.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“What are you doing?”
“Where were you at eleven forty-two?”
His breathing changed.
Tiny.
But noticeable.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
He hung up.
The next morning, we returned to court.
Mr. Vance arrived with three assistants and enough binders to build a wall.
He argued that my mother’s trust had been dissolved years earlier.
Samuel sat behind me.
He whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Vance produced a document dated fourteen years ago.
It appeared to show Dad, acting as trustee, terminating the trust and transferring its holdings into Whitman Development Holdings.
The judge looked at me.
“Ms. Whitman?”
I stood.
“I’ve never seen that document.”
Lucas smirked.
Vance smiled.
“The court has now seen it.”
Samuel tugged my sleeve.
“Ask for the signature page.”
I did.
The clerk handed me a copy.
My father’s signature was there.
So was Samuel’s.
I looked at him.
“You signed this?”
His face drained.
“No.”
Vance spoke loudly.
“Mr. Kent’s notarized signature appears at the bottom.”
Samuel stood.
“That is not my signature.”
The judge frowned.
“Mr. Kent, sit down unless called.”
Samuel sat.
I studied the page.
Something bothered me.
Then I saw it.
The date.
September 18.
Fourteen years earlier.
I looked toward Elaine.
She was wearing my mother’s emerald necklace again.
My memory snapped into place.
Mom had taken me to London when I was eleven.
We had visited a tiny antique shop.
She bought that necklace there.
She had it appraised for insurance.
And after she died, I had found the receipt inside her old jewelry box.
I faced the judge.
“Your Honor, I’d like an expert to examine this document.”
Vance sighed.
“On what basis?”
“Because either this document is fake…”
I looked at Elaine’s necklace.
“…or my dead mother managed to predict the future.”
People murmured.
The judge leaned forward.
“Explain.”
I held up the signature page.
“The document identifies part of the trust property as the Whitman Emerald Collection.”
Elaine touched the necklace instinctively.
I continued.
“My mother’s jewelry wasn’t called that when she was alive.”
Vance frowned.
“So?”
“That name didn’t exist until my father had the collection appraised after her death.”
Silence.
“And this document is dated eleven months before she died.”
Vance stopped moving.
The judge looked down at the page.
Then at Elaine.
Then at Vance.
“Counsel.”
Vance cleared his throat.
“I’ll need to investigate the document’s provenance.”
“You’ll do more than that.”
The judge’s voice hardened.
“I’m referring this document for forensic examination.”
Lucas whispered something to Elaine.
She didn’t answer.
I sat down.
Samuel leaned close.
“That was good.”
I stared at the emerald necklace.
“No.”
Something else was bothering me.
Elaine had worn it both days.
Proudly.
Almost deliberately.
Then I remembered Dad’s note.
Fight over ownership.
The necklace had belonged to my mother.
Which meant Elaine might be walking around with trust property around her neck.
I whispered to Samuel.
“Did Mom’s trust own her jewelry too?”
His eyes widened.
“All personal assets above a specified value.”
My pulse jumped.
I stood again.
“Your Honor?”
The judge looked exhausted.
“Yes, Ms. Whitman?”
“I believe Mrs. Whitman is currently wearing another disputed trust asset.”
Elaine froze.
The entire courtroom looked at her throat.
And for the first time since this started, she looked genuinely terrified.
Not angry.
Terrified.
She grabbed the necklace.
Then she did something nobody expected.
She ripped it off.
May you like
And ran.
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