“My office sent David a complete trust summary after Maren’s funeral.
We also sent notices when withdrawals were attempted from Claire’s education account.”
She swiped to another page.
“Three letters were delivered to the house.
Each receipt was signed by D.
Whitcomb.”
Dana folded her arms.
“That could be anyone.”
Ruth enlarged the signature.
It matched the looping signature Dana used on church donation cards, school forms, and the checks she left beside the refrigerator.
I remembered the unopened-looking envelopes that had sometimes disappeared from the mail table before my father came home.
I remembered Dana telling me that Grandpa’s lawyer had retired.
I remembered calling Ruth’s old office number and hearing a disconnected message because the firm had moved across town.
Dana had known enough to keep me from finding the new number.
Ruth turned to my father.
“Did you authorize your wife to open correspondence addressed to the trust?”
He did not answer.
Dana stepped toward me.
“Give me the folder, Claire.
You don’t understand what any of this means.”
I held it tighter.
Grandpa’s voice echoed in my mind.
Calm makes you dangerous.
“I understand that you lied.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“I gave you a home.”
“It was already mine.”
The words landed harder than I expected.
My father looked down.
Dana reached for the folder.
Ruth caught her wrist before her fingers touched it.
“I strongly advise you not to interfere with trust property,” she said.
Dana pulled away as if burned.
“You can’t come onto our land and threaten me.”
Ruth glanced toward the open window.
“This land belongs to the trust.
Claire is the beneficiary.
I am the trustee.
You followed her into a locked structure and attempted to take documents from her hands.”
Then another beam of light moved across the trees.
Mrs.
Alvarez appeared at the bottom of the ladder with Deputy Marshall from the county sheriff’s office.
I had not called the police.
Mrs.
Alvarez had.
She had watched Dana’s car race down the logging road and decided I should not be alone with them.
The deputy climbed halfway up and asked whether anyone was injured.
I showed him the marks on my arm.
Dana’s face changed instantly.
“She became aggressive in the house.
I was trying to keep her from stealing estate property.”
Mrs.
Alvarez called from below, “I saw you throw her belongings onto the porch.
My doorbell camera recorded the entire thing.”
Dana looked toward my father.
