Harrison arrived with Priya and a forensic investigator named Marcus Vale.
Marcus was in his fifties, compact, unsmiling, and apparently immune to tension. He put the flash drive into an evidence bag before I could object.
“I need the source preserved,” he said.
Khloe looked offended.
“I copied it legally.”
Marcus glanced at her.
“I did not say you didn't.”
“What happens to it?”
“We make a forensic image, verify the copy, and work from that.”
I looked at Harrison.
“Can we speed this up?”
“This is speeding it up.”
Mom sat at the table with both hands around untouched tea.
Priya was already reviewing the insurance information Khloe could remember.
“One million,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Whole life or term?”
“I don't know.”
“Company?”
“EverShield.”
Marcus looked up.
“I know them.”
“Legitimate?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“That almost makes it worse.”
Harrison ignored me.
“Khloe, how did you learn about the policy?”
“I found a payment notice.”
“Paper?”
“Email.”
“Whose account?”
“Julian’s.”
“Do you still have access?”
“No.”
Marcus pointed toward the flash drive.
“Was the email exported?”
“I copied his mail archive.”
He looked at Harrison.
“That helps.”
For two hours, the house became an investigation office.
Marcus worked from the dining room.
Priya made calls.
Harrison reviewed legal filings.
Mom moved between the kitchen and garden because sitting still made her anxious.
Khloe stayed on the sofa as if afraid anyone might tell her to leave.
I did not.
Not yet.
At 7:30, Marcus called us over.
“I found the policy.”
We gathered around the dining table.
He turned the laptop screen.
EverShield Life Insurance.
Insured: Martha Brooks.
Coverage: $1,000,000.
Policy owner: Julian Carter.
Original beneficiary: Julian Carter.
My hands curled into fists.
Then Marcus scrolled.
Beneficiary change recorded fourteen days earlier.
Natalie Brooks.
I stared at my own name.
“No authorization from me?”
“You don't need authorization to be named beneficiary.”
“Can someone do that without telling me?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he?”
Marcus clicked another file.
“That’s what this suggests.”
It was an email draft.
Not sent.
Addressed to an attorney I did not know.
Subject line: Natalie situation.
I felt a chill crawl across my skin.
Marcus read silently first.
Then looked at Harrison.
“This was saved three days ago.”
Harrison nodded.
“Show us.”
Marcus turned the screen.
The draft claimed I had returned from Dubai furious about Mom’s finances.
That I had threatened to remove Mom from the house.
That I was “obsessed” with controlling the property.
That Mom had recently become afraid of me.
I laughed once.
Nobody joined me.
The draft continued.
Julian wrote that I had discovered the life insurance policy and had “expressed unusual interest” in it.
I stared.
“I didn't even know it existed.”
“We know,” Harrison said.
“Julian knew that.”
“Yes.”
“So why write this?”
Marcus scrolled farther.
The final paragraph chilled the room.
If anything happens to Martha, Natalie should be investigated.
Mom covered her mouth.
Khloe whispered, “Oh my God.”
I pushed away from the table.
“That son of a—”
Harrison raised a hand.
“Sit.”
“No.”
“Natalie.”
“He was building a story.”
“Yes.”
“About me.”
“Yes.”
“Before I even came home?”
Marcus shook his head.
“The draft is three days old. You were already here.”
That was worse.
Julian had started adjusting in real time.
The confrontation.
The bank scrutiny.
My return.
He had seen the threat and begun constructing another version of events.
A version in which I looked greedy.
Controlling.
Interested in Mom’s death.
Priya spoke.
“The beneficiary change predates your arrival?”
“By almost two weeks,” Marcus said.
That detail stopped everyone.
I looked at Khloe.
“When did Julian know I was coming back?”
“He didn't.”
“I told Mom only after I landed.”
Mom nodded.
“He couldn't have known.”
Marcus leaned back.
“Then the change may have been intended for something unrelated to your visit.”
“Like what?”
He looked at me.
“I don't speculate without evidence.”
I hated him a little for being sensible.
Harrison did not.
“What else is in the files?”
Marcus clicked through folders.
“Debt schedules. Loan agreements. Correspondence with creditors. Some questionable contracts. I also found searches.”
“What searches?”
He paused.
“Insurance payout procedures.”
Mom went pale.
Priya said, “Context matters.”
Marcus nodded.
“Agreed.”
I stared at him.
“What else?”
“Probate timelines.”
Khloe stood abruptly.
“No.”
We all looked at her.
She was shaking.
“He searched that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Multiple times.”
“Dates?”
Marcus read them.
One from six months earlier.
Two from three months earlier.
Another from eleven days ago.
Khloe pressed both hands to her mouth.
“What?”
I stepped toward her.
“Khloe.”
She looked at Mom.
“Last month Julian asked whether Mom still took those sleeping pills.”
Everything in me stopped.
Mom frowned.
“What sleeping pills?”
“You had some after Dad died.”
“I stopped years ago.”
Khloe nodded rapidly.
“I told him that.”
“Why did he ask?”
“He said he couldn’t sleep.”
I looked at Marcus.
“Does that matter?”
He did not answer directly.
“Any recent prescription access?”
Mom shook her head.
“My doctor stopped them years ago.”
Priya began writing.
“Which medication?”
Mom told her.
Marcus looked back at the computer.
“I’ll search the archive.”
I turned to Khloe.
“What else did he ask?”
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
“I am.”
Her voice broke.
“He asked about Mom’s allergies.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“He said a client’s wife had a reaction and it made him curious.”
Mom sat down slowly.
Priya asked, “What allergies?”
“Penicillin.”
“Anything severe?”
“Bee stings.”
I looked toward the roses.
Mom carried an epinephrine injector every summer.
“Where is your EpiPen?”
She frowned.
“My purse.”
“Check.”
She did.
It was there.
Expired.
“Mom.”
“I forgot.”
Khloe began crying again.
“I should’ve paid attention.”
Harrison turned toward her.
“Yes.”
The directness shocked everyone.
He continued.
“But guilt is not evidence. We need facts.”
Khloe nodded.
Marcus typed.
Then stopped.
“I found something.”
He opened an email attachment.
A scanned pharmacy receipt.
Not Mom’s name.
Julian’s.
Medication: zolpidem.
Sleeping pills.
Quantity: thirty.
Fill date: five weeks earlier.
Khloe stared.
“He never took them.”
“How do you know?” Priya asked.
“He hated medication.”
“Could have changed.”
“No.”
Her answer was immediate.
“He wouldn’t even take aspirin.”
Harrison looked at Marcus.
“Any reason we can connect this to Martha?”
“Not yet.”
I paced toward the window.
The house had become too small for what we were learning.
Mom followed me with her eyes.
“You’re scared,” she said.
“Yes.”
She looked surprised by my honesty.
I knelt beside her chair.
“Until we know what Julian was planning, you are not staying alone.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good.”
“I’m staying with you.”
I almost smiled.
“I live in Dubai.”
“Then I suppose you’re staying here for a while.”
That was the closest thing to an order Mom had given me since I arrived.
Harrison’s phone rang.
He stepped away.
Marcus kept working.
Priya called EverShield.
Khloe sat motionless.
Five minutes later, Harrison returned.
His expression had changed.
“What?”
He looked at Khloe.
“Police found Julian’s car.”
She stood.
“Where?”
“Airport parking.”
My stomach tightened.
“He flew somewhere?”
“They don't know yet.”
“When was the car left?”
“This morning.”
Khloe went pale.
“He took his passport.”
“Did you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Any idea where he might go?”
“No.”
Harrison nodded.
“There’s another issue.”
I hated those words.
“What now?”
“His hotel room was searched after management reported abandoned property.”
Khloe gripped the chair.
“What property?”
“A laptop bag, clothing, and several documents.”
“That doesn't sound abandoned if he planned to come back.”
“Maybe.”
“What documents?”
Harrison looked at me.
“One appears to be a letter.”
“To whom?”
“Natalie.”
I stared.
“What does it say?”
“They haven't released the original yet.”
“Do they know?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
He inhaled.
“It says that if anything happens to Martha, I should be responsible for handling the estate.”
I frowned.
“That sounds normal.”
Harrison did not answer.
“What?”
“The letter also says Julian feared you.”
I felt my pulse spike.
“Feared me for what?”
“That you intended to force Martha to change her estate plan.”
Mom stared.
“My what?”
Harrison looked at her.
“Do you have a will?”
“Yes. Natalie and Khloe split everything.”
“Did Julian know that?”
“I assume.”
Harrison’s expression turned grim.
“Then we need to check whether your will still says that.”
