Robert took one look at the photograph and reached for his phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Patrice grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
He stared at her.
“Get your hand off me.”
“Robert, think.”
“I am thinking.”
“You don’t know who sent that.”
“Do you?”
She let go.
“No.”
“Then why are you trying to stop me?”
Her eyes flicked toward Karen.
I saw it.
So did he.
“Mom?” Patrice said.
Karen looked down.
My chest tightened.
“What do you know now?”
“I don’t know who sent the picture.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
She pressed the tissue against her mouth.
“Susan has been to Eleanor’s house.”
Every sound in the room seemed to vanish.
I stepped closer.
“When?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“How many times?”
“Maybe twice.”
Patrice whispered, “Mom.”
Karen looked at her daughter.
“No. This has gone too far.”
I almost laughed at the understatement.
“How did Susan get inside?”
Karen shook her head.
“I don’t know if she did.”
“You said she had been there.”
“She told me she drove by.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Karen’s eyes filled again.
“She also said she knew the layout.”
I stared at her.
“What layout?”
“Your office. The kitchen. The back entrance.”
Cold spread slowly across my arms.
I looked at Patrice.
“Did you give her a key?”
“No.”
“Did Robert?”
“No,” he said immediately.
I believed him.
Then another possibility occurred to me.
I carried a spare key in a small ceramic bowl beside my garage entry.
Only family knew that.
Robert knew.
Patrice knew.
The grandchildren knew.
Karen had been to my house often enough to know too.
And if Patrice had described it to Susan, then Susan might know.
I stepped away and called my neighbor, Marlene.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Eleanor! How’s the beach?”
“Are you home?”
Something in my voice changed hers.
“Yes.”
“Can you look at my house from your window?”
A pause.
“I’m looking now.”
“Is there a car outside?”
“No.”
“Has anyone been there today?”
“I saw a woman near your driveway this morning.”
My stomach dropped.
“What woman?”
“I thought she was one of Robert’s friends.”
“Describe her.”
Marlene did.
Mid-forties.
Dark hair.
Tall.
Gray SUV.
I looked at Patrice.
“Does Susan drive a gray SUV?”
Her face answered before her mouth did.
“Yes.”
Robert swore.
I gripped the phone.
“Did she go inside?”
“I couldn’t tell,” Marlene said. “She walked toward the side of the house.”
“The garage side?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see her leave?”
“Maybe twenty minutes later.”
I closed my eyes.
Twenty minutes.
Long enough.
“Is the garage door closed?”
“Yes.”
“Front door?”
“Looks closed.”
“Please don’t go over there.”
“I won’t.”
“If you see anyone again, call me and the police.”
Marlene’s voice lowered.
“Eleanor, what happened?”
“I’ll explain later.”
I ended the call.
Robert was already dialing.
This time Patrice did not stop him.
He called the local police department near my home.
I listened while he explained that an unknown person connected to suspected identity fraud may have entered my house.
They asked questions.
Was anything missing?
We did not know.
Was there forced entry?
We did not know.
Did we have surveillance?
I did.
A doorbell camera.
My stomach tightened.
I had not checked it because I rarely used the app.
I opened it.
The account rejected my password.
I tried again.
Rejected.
“Someone changed it,” I said.
Robert looked over my shoulder.
“Reset it.”
I tapped the recovery option.
The email address on file was partially masked.
It was not mine.
I felt suddenly nauseated.
“They changed the recovery email.”
Daniel’s voice came through my second phone.
“Document that screen.”
I took photographs.
Then I called the camera company.
Verification took time.
The representative confirmed the account email had been changed twelve days earlier.
“By whom?”
“I can’t identify the user, ma’am.”
“Was the change authorized?”
“It passed the existing security challenge.”
“What challenge?”
“Your account PIN.”
My throat tightened.
I had used the same four-digit PIN for years.
Frank’s birthday.
Only Robert knew it.
I looked at him.
His face changed.
“You knew the PIN,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Did you give it to Patrice?”
He hesitated.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes.”
Patrice stepped backward.
Robert looked at her.
“Why did you need Mom’s camera PIN?”
“I didn’t.”
“You asked me for it.”
“When?”
“Months ago. You said Sophie wanted to check whether she left her jacket at Mom’s after dinner.”
Recognition flickered across my mind.
Sophie had misplaced a jacket.
Patrice had called that evening.
I had not thought anything of it.
Robert’s voice rose.
“You kept the PIN.”
“I forgot I had it.”
“Did you give it to Susan?”
“No.”
“Stop lying!”
David’s voice came through the open patio door.
“Dad?”
Everyone froze.
Robert turned immediately.
“Everything’s okay.”
It was a terrible lie.
David looked from one adult to another.
“Why are you yelling?”
“No reason.”
The boy frowned.
At fourteen, he was old enough to recognize dishonesty.
Sophie appeared behind him wrapped in a towel.
“Are we still going for ice cream?”
I stared at them.
Children.
Still children.
Whatever had happened among the adults, they should not be forced into the middle of it.
“Yes,” I said.
Everyone turned toward me.
“Sophie, take David upstairs and get changed.”
She smiled.
“Okay.”
Patrice stared at me after they left.
“You’re taking them out?”
“No.”
I looked at Karen.
“You are.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Take the children for ice cream. Keep them away from this house for an hour.”
Karen nodded quickly.
“I can do that.”
Patrice objected.
“My children are not leaving without me.”
“They need one hour without hearing their parents discuss forgery, debt, inheritance, and police.”
Her mouth closed.
Robert looked at Karen.
“Please.”
Ten minutes later, Karen left with the children.
The second the front door closed, Robert turned on Patrice.
“Did you give Susan the camera PIN?”
“No.”
“Did she know it?”
“I don’t know.”
“That phrase again.”
“I genuinely don’t know.”
I interrupted.
“What did you send Susan from my house?”
Patrice shook her head.
“The will.”
“What else?”
“That’s all.”
“Then how did she get my signature?”
“I told you. I don’t know.”
“Where did the signed page you printed come from?”
“She emailed it.”
“Was the signature on my will?”
“Yes.”
Daniel spoke through the phone.
“There’s our likely source.”
I felt sick.
Susan had copied the signature from my will.
Patrice pressed her palms together.
“I didn’t know she was going to use it that way.”
Robert laughed bitterly.
“You stole a legal document from Mom’s locked desk and sent it to someone trying to gain access to her money.”
“I sent a copy.”
“As if that helps.”
“You called the bank yourself!”
“Yes, and I was wrong.”
His voice cracked.
“I was greedy and scared and stupid, and I was wrong.”
He pointed toward her.
“But I did not forge Mom’s signature.”
Patrice’s eyes filled with anger.
“Neither did I.”
“Maybe not with your hand.”
That landed.
She stared at him.
Then I asked, “Why does Susan care so much about my money?”
Nobody answered.
It had been bothering me from the beginning.
Susan was Patrice’s cousin.
Not mine.
Why spend months researching my property?
Why study my will?
Why test access to my accounts?
Why go to my house?
A wellness studio did not explain the scale of the effort.
I looked at Patrice.
“What does Susan owe?”
Her face changed.
I had guessed correctly.
Robert noticed.
“What does she owe?”
Patrice sat down.
“I don’t know exactly.”
“How much?”
“She had some problems.”
“What problems?”
“Business problems.”
“Meaning?”
“She invested in a property.”
Daniel spoke.
“Where?”
Patrice gave him the name of a county.
He typed something on his end.
A minute later, his voice returned.
“There are several civil filings under Susan’s name.”
Patrice looked stunned.
“What filings?”
“Debt collection.”
Robert sat across from her.
“How much?”
Daniel hesitated.
“I’m seeing multiple amounts. Combined, well over one hundred thousand dollars.”
I felt the shape of the scheme change again.
This was not only a family trying to use an elderly relative’s assets.
Susan herself needed money.
Urgently.
I asked, “Does she actually run an estate-planning business?”
Patrice nodded.
“She consults.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“I don’t know what licenses she has.”
Daniel answered.
“I’m checking.”
We waited.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Finally he said, “I cannot find an active attorney license under her name in this state.”
Patrice’s face went blank.
Robert stared at her.
“You told me she was an estate lawyer.”
“I thought she was.”
“You introduced her as one.”
“She said she worked in estate law.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Patrice rubbed her forehead.
The certainty had finally left her.
For the first time, she appeared to understand that she might not have been Susan’s partner in control.
She might have been Susan’s instrument.
That did not excuse her.
But it changed the danger.
I looked at the photo of my house again.
Susan had not wanted police involved.
That meant she was afraid of something already done.
Not just something planned.
I asked Daniel, “What could she have taken from my house that would matter?”
“Original documents. Statements. Tax records. Blank checks. Anything containing identifiers.”
“My passport.”
Robert looked at me.
“Where is it?”
“Office drawer.”
“Locked?”
“Yes.”
Patrice whispered, “Susan knows where the key is.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
Her face had gone white.
“When I took the copy of the will, I told her where the drawer key was hidden.”
Robert stared at her.
“You told her?”
“She asked how I got it.”
I could barely process the carelessness.
“Where is the key?”
“Under the ceramic bird on the bookshelf.”
Exactly where I had left it.
My phone rang.
Marlene.
I answered instantly.
“There’s a police car outside your house,” she said.
Relief weakened my knees.
“Good.”
“They’re walking around the side now.”
“Stay inside.”
“I will.”
She hesitated.
“Eleanor?”
“Yes?”
“Your back door is open.”
I closed my eyes.
Robert heard her through the speaker.
His face hardened.
The police officer called me five minutes later.
There was no obvious damage.
The back door had been unlocked.
Several drawers in my office were open.
My desk chair had been moved.
And the ceramic bird lay on the floor.
“Can you tell whether anything is missing?” the officer asked.
“Not from here.”
“We’ll secure the property.”
“Please check the passport drawer.”
A pause while he moved.
I heard footsteps.
Then a drawer sliding.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“There’s no passport here.”
My heart sank.
“What else?”
“There are empty hanging folders.”
“Labels?”
“Tax records. Insurance. Estate.”
Robert closed his eyes.
The officer continued.
“There’s also something on the desk.”
“What?”
“A note.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
“What does it say?”
There was a pause.
Then he read it.
You should have signed when your family asked nicely.
No one moved.
Daniel’s voice came through the other phone.
“Eleanor.”
“Yes?”
“You need to give the officers Susan’s full name immediately.”
Patrice stood.
“I’ll give them everything.”
Robert looked at her.
“Everything?”
She nodded.
Her face had changed.
Fear had finally overcome loyalty.
“There’s one more thing.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Susan didn’t just ask about Eleanor’s accounts.”
Robert’s expression sharpened.
“What else?”
“She asked about life insurance.”
A cold silence settled over the room.
I had one policy left from years ago.
Modest by comparison with everything else.
But enough to matter to someone desperate.
I looked at Patrice.
“What exactly did she ask?”
Patrice swallowed.
“She wanted to know who would receive the money if you died.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: Susan’s Questions About My Death Exposed the Real Target, and Robert Realized His Own Name Had Been Used as Cover
I Paid for the Family Vacation, Then Heard Patrice Decide Exactly Where I Was Allowed to Sleep
Part 6 of 35
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