Chapter 2 - THE EMPTY VAULT
Three days later, Richard’s arrogance hit a brick wall.
I received a frantic phone call from Clara’s estate attorney. Richard had stormed into the bank in downtown Charleston, demanding immediate access to Clara’s two-million-dollar trust fund. He needed the cash to pay for the extravagant beachfront wedding Chloe demanded.
But Clara had been ten steps ahead.
"He was completely locked out, Henry," the attorney told me over the phone, masking his amusement. "Clara changed the beneficiary clauses a month ago. The money is locked in a blind trust for the girls, and you are the sole executor. Richard gets absolutely nothing unless you sign it over."
I smiled grimly. "And how did the grieving widower take the news?"
"He shattered a crystal glass on my desk."
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Before I could hang up, my doorbell rang. I checked the security cameras. Standing on my front porch, holding a cheap box of bakery cookies and wearing a fake, practiced smile, was Richard. Chloe was clinging to his arm, looking visibly irritated.
He was here for the money. And he was about to use my granddaughters as leverage.
