Chapter 4
"No!"
I pushed myself up so quickly that my walker nearly tipped over.
Marcus caught my arm.
"Miss Evelyn, please sit down."
I shook my head.
"He's destroying Samuel's things!"
My voice cracked.
"Everything my husband built is in that garage!"
Marcus looked toward Naomi.
She was already reaching for her phone.
"We need to act carefully," she said.
Carefully.
I knew she was right.
But I couldn't stop picturing Samuel's workbench.
The old metal drawers.
His tools hanging on the wall.
The little radio he listened to every Saturday morning.
And the hidden compartment beneath the bench.
If Derek found the metal box, everything Samuel had protected could disappear.
"Please," I whispered. "You don't understand."
Marcus knelt beside me.
"Then help me understand."
I gripped his sleeve.
"Samuel kept original documents in that box."
"What documents?"
"Contracts. Letters. Records of money he invested."
I swallowed.
"And a recording."
Marcus became still.
"A recording of what?"
I hesitated.
"Something Derek said before Samuel died."
Naomi looked up.
"Mrs. Carter, what kind of recording?"
I closed my eyes.
The memory returned immediately.
Samuel sitting at the kitchen table.
His face pale.
His hands trembling.
He had just returned from confronting Derek about missing money.
I remembered asking him what happened.
He refused to tell me everything.
But he placed a small digital recorder inside the metal box.
"If anything happens," he said, "this belongs with the estate papers."
I had never listened to it.
I was afraid of what it contained.
Now I wished I had.
"Samuel told me it was important," I whispered.
Naomi nodded slowly.
"Then we need to preserve it properly."
She contacted the police and explained that a homeowner had been locked out and that property containing potentially relevant records was being disturbed.
She also contacted the court clerk about an urgent application to prevent further interference with the property.
Marcus's friends remained near the house, recording activity from public areas without entering the property or confronting the workers.
Nobody threatened anyone.
Nobody broke a lock.
That mattered.
Because I had spent the whole morning terrified that Derek would turn the situation around and accuse me of causing trouble.
About an hour later, Naomi received a call.
She listened carefully.
Then looked at Marcus.
"Police have spoken with the workers."
I leaned forward.
"And?"
"The workers say Derek hired them to clear out the garage."
My stomach turned.
"Did they stop?"
"They've paused while the situation is reviewed."
I covered my face.
"Thank God."
But the relief didn't last.
Naomi continued.
"Some items have already been removed."
My heart sank.
"What items?"
"We don't know yet."
I started crying.
Marcus moved beside me.
"Miss Evelyn, we're going to find out."
That evening, Naomi arranged for me to give a detailed statement about the garage.
I described the layout.
The workbench.
The hidden compartment.
The metal box.
Then she asked whether anyone else knew about it.
I shook my head.
"Only Samuel and me."
"Not Derek?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
I hesitated.
There had been one moment.
A week before Samuel died, I walked into the garage and found Derek standing near the workbench.
He was holding a screwdriver.
When I asked what he was doing, he said he was fixing a loose drawer.
Samuel became furious when I told him.
He changed the garage lock the next day.
I explained everything.
Marcus's expression darkened.
"So Derek may have known there was something hidden."
I nodded.
"Maybe."
Naomi wrote it down.
"We'll let the investigators determine what happened."
Later that night, Marcus received another call from Daniel.
The workers had left.
A truck had departed carrying several boxes and pieces of furniture.
Daniel had recorded the vehicle's details.
I pressed my hands together.
"Was the workbench on the truck?"
Marcus asked.
Daniel checked.
Then replied.
"No. It's still inside."
I exhaled.
For the first time all evening, I felt hope.
But hope wasn't the same as safety.
Derek still had my house keys.
My money.
And perhaps more information than I realized.
The next morning, Naomi took me to the bank.
The manager, Mr. Collins, invited us into a private office.
He was respectful, but the documents he showed me made my stomach twist.
Over the previous four months, money had been withdrawn from my accounts.
Some transactions were ordinary household expenses.
Others were not.
There were purchases at jewelry stores.
Large cash withdrawals.
Transfers to an account I didn't recognize.
I stared at the amounts.
"That can't be right."
Mr. Collins spoke gently.
"We're investigating which transactions were authorized."
I looked at Naomi.
"Derek told me we were almost out of money."
She placed her hand over mine.
"We'll work through the records."
Then Mr. Collins showed me a document.
It was an authorization form.
The signature at the bottom looked like mine.
But I knew immediately it wasn't.
"My name doesn't look like that."
Naomi leaned closer.
"Mrs. Carter, are you saying you didn't sign this?"
I shook my head.
"No."
Mr. Collins made a note.
The bank would preserve the document and follow its fraud procedures.
I felt sick.
Derek hadn't simply taken advantage of my kindness.
He had built a lie around me.
He told me I was confused.
Then used that supposed confusion to explain missing money.
He made me doubt my own memory.
And for months, I believed him.
When we returned to the hotel, Marcus was waiting.
He stood as soon as I entered.
"How'd it go?"
I tried to speak.
But my voice broke.
"He stole from me."
Marcus's face tightened.
I shook my head.
"My own grandson."
He gently helped me sit down.
"You don't have to protect what he did."
I looked at him.
"I raised that boy."
"I know."
"I loved him."
"I know."
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
"How could he do this?"
Marcus didn't pretend to have an answer.
He simply sat beside me.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message appeared from Daniel.
Marcus read it twice.
His expression changed.
"What?" I asked.
He looked at Naomi.
"Somebody just sent us footage from the street outside Evelyn's house."
Naomi frowned.
"Footage of what?"
Marcus turned the screen toward us.
I saw my front porch.
My walker.
My suitcase.
And Derek standing in the doorway.
May you like
Then I heard my grandson's voice.
"Get out, Grandma. This house is mine now."
