Chapter 6: The False Bottom
The safe was still at the house.
Hale had placed it under evidence hold, which meant it hadn't gone anywhere, but it also meant I needed a court order to open it outside of the police's own process.
David had the order by two in the afternoon.
We drove to the house together.
Two officers were still on site.
The safe had been moved to the dining room table, the damaged electronic lock replaced with a temporary seal.
A technician from the department had already documented the exterior.
Hale met us at the door.
"Your attorney explained the situation," he said.
"We'll open it here.
Whatever's inside gets catalogued and photographed before anyone handles it."
"Agreed," I said.
The technician worked the seal.
The door swung open.
Inside: the deed Irene had placed there.
A small envelope of emergency cash.
A USB drive.
And at the bottom, a flat surface that looked like the base of the safe.
The technician looked at me.
"You said there's a false bottom?"
"My wife said there's a release point on the left interior wall.
A small indentation."
He pressed it.
The base lifted.
Beneath it was a single sealed envelope.
Cream-colored.
My father's handwriting on the front.
*For Austin.
In case I run out of time.*
Nobody in the room spoke.
Hale photographed it from three angles before anyone touched it.
Then he handed it to David, who opened it carefully with a letter knife from his folio.
Inside was a document.
Twelve pages.
Signed.
Witnessed by two names I didn't recognize.
Notarized.
Dated September 14, 2020.
David read the first page.
Then the second.
His expression didn't change, but he set the document down very carefully, the way you set down something you don't want to drop.
"It's valid," he said.
"On its face, it's valid."
"What does it say?" I asked.
"The trust transfers to you.
Outright.
Derek is removed as beneficiary.
The Tempe parcel is yours by direct inheritance." He paused.
"And there's a clause." He looked up.
"If Margaret is found to have interfered with the filing of this document, her right to the primary residence is void.
The house reverts to the estate."
Hale had been standing quietly to the side.
Now he said, "Mr.
Wentworth, I need to inform you that this document is now evidence in an active crjminal investigation.
We'll need to retain it."
"I understand," I said.
"We'll provide certified copies for probate proceedings."
I nodded.
I was still looking at the envelope.
At my father's handwriting.
*For Austin.
In case I run out of time.*
He had known he was running out of time.
He had known and he had done what he could with what he had left.
"There's something else in the envelope," the technician said.
A folded note.
Separate from the will.
Handwritten.
Three paragraphs.
David handed it to me.
I read it standing there in my own dining room, with two police officers and my attorney watching, in the house my father had built and my mother had tried to take apart from the inside.
The note said he was sorry.
That he had seen what Margaret was doing to the family for years and had been too slow to act.
That he had chosen peace over truth too many times and had watched it cost everyone around him.
That he loved me.
That he trusted me to handle it better than he had.
The last line said: *Irene is stronger than she looks.
Trust her.
She already knows more than you think.*
I folded the note.
Hale was watching me.
"You all right?"
"No," I said.
"But I will be."
I put the note in my jacket pocket and walked outside.
The sky over Paradise Valley was pale and wide.
The kind of afternoon that doesn't know anything has happened.
I called Irene.
She picked up on the first ring.
"We found it," I said.
A long silence.
Then she said, "Is it enough?"
"It's everything," I said.
"He left us everything."
She didn't say anything else for a moment.
I heard her breathing.
I heard the monitor in the background, steady and even.
"Come back," she said finally.
"Please just come back."
"I'm already on my way."
But before I reached the car, my phone rang again.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Little brother." Derek's voice was smooth.
Unhurried.
May you like
Like a man who hadn't just watched his plan collapse.
"I think we should talk before this gets any further out of hand."
