Chapter 4 - The Second Will
Dana Whitcomb’s office occupied the third floor of a brick building above a dental practice.
She was in her early sixties, silver-haired, straight-backed, and unimpressed by panic.
She locked the door behind me.
“Give me the drive.”
I handed it over.
She plugged it into an offline laptop.
A password prompt appeared.
“What’s the password?” I asked.
Dana looked at me.
“Your wedding date.”
My throat tightened.
I entered it.
Folders filled the screen.
BANKS.
LOANS.
MARK.
LUCAS.
NORTHSTAR CAPITAL.
AUDIO.
WILL — FINAL.
I stared at the last folder.
“Second will?”
“Technically the fourth.”
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
Dana opened it.
Robert had signed it eleven weeks before he died.
The structure was simple.
I inherited the house outright.
I inherited the personal reserve.
The Hale Family Trust would eventually distribute assets to Mark and Lucas—but only under specific conditions.
“What conditions?”
Dana scrolled.
I read them twice.
Each son had to appear before the trustee and provide a full written accounting of any debt, loans, financial interests, or agreements connected to Hale Freight.
They had to return any money obtained through unauthorized use of company information.
And they had to sign statements acknowledging whether they had pressured Robert to change ownership.
If they refused?
Their distributions went to a foundation for trade-school scholarships.
I sat back.
“He tested them.”
Dana shook her head.
“No. Robert gave them a chance.”
I hated the distinction.
“Why not tell them while he was alive?”
“He did.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“Six months ago. They laughed at him.”
Dana clicked open an audio file.
Robert’s voice filled the room.
“I’m asking you both to walk away from Northstar.”
Then Mark.
“You’re old, Dad. You don’t understand what the company is worth.”
Lucas added, “You can either retire rich or die stubborn.”
My eyes burned.
Robert answered quietly.
“If that’s who you are, I need to know now.”
The recording ended.
I covered my mouth.
Dana said nothing.
Then another notification appeared on the laptop.
A file had been accessed remotely.
Dana’s face changed.
“That drive should not be connected to any network.”
“It isn’t.”
She checked the log.
Then looked at me.
“Someone planted tracking software on it.”
My phone rang.
Lucas.
I answered.
May you like
His first words were:
“Mom, whatever Dana is showing you, Dad forged it.”
