At my daughter’s funeral, my son-in-law pointed toward his three girls and said,

Absolute chaos broke loose. Guests were standing up, pulling out their phones, recording the meltdown.

Chloe, realizing her Monaco dreams were evaporating, turned on Richard like a rabid dog. She slapped him hard across the face. "You told me the money was clean! You said she was just sick!"

"Shut up, you idiot, you're on the recording too!" Richard roared, grabbing her wrist.

That was when the heavy oak doors of the courtyard blew open.

"Charleston Police! Nobody move!"

A dozen uniformed officers swarmed the aisle. My friend, the Chief of Police, walked straight up to the altar. He didn't even blink at the expensive floral arrangements.

"Richard Vance," the Chief barked, slapping heavy steel handcuffs onto Richard's wrists. "You are under arrest for grand larceny, wire fraud, and the first-degree murder of Clara Vance."

Richard’s knees buckled. His expensive tuxedo hit the muddy grass as they forced him to the ground.

"Henry! Henry, please!" Richard begged, all his arrogance vanishing into pathetic sobs as they dragged him away. "I'm their father! You can't do this!"