Miriam turned to the next page, and Grant’s face lost its color.
It was not another bank statement.
It was a medication audit prepared by the hospital’s internal pharmacy team.
Dad’s prescribed dosage appeared in one column.
The quantities removed from the locked medication cabinet appeared in another.
On the two nights before the new will was signed, the numbers did not match.
Celeste’s access code had opened the cabinet.
Grant’s temporary visitor badge had entered the private wing twelve minutes later.
Owen’s badge had followed.
The records did not prove everything by themselves, but they destroyed the peaceful story my brothers had repeated since Dad’s death.
Grant recovered first.
“Access records can be wrong,” he said.
“Hospitals make mistakes every day.”
Detective Ramos watched him carefully.
“Then you’ll have no problem explaining the timing.”
“I don’t have to explain anything at my father’s funeral.”
“You were happy to discuss his estate here,” Miriam said.
“Claire is merely discussing how you obtained it.”
Several relatives lowered their eyes.
They had heard Grant humiliate me beside the coffin.
They had watched Owen grin while I stood in a borrowed dress.
Moments earlier, some of them had treated my brothers like the unquestioned heirs to a kingdom.
Now no one moved toward them.
Celeste pressed both hands against her face.
“I didn’t know they were going to hurt him.”
Owen spun toward her.
“Be quiet.”
The command came too quickly and too sharply.
Detective Ramos turned.
“Why are you telling her to be quiet?”
“Because she’s hysterical.”
“She appears frightened,” the detective said.
“Those are not the same thing.”
Grant pointed at the chapel doors.
“Unlock them.
This performance is over.”
Mr.
Bell remained beside the lock, but his eyes went to Detective Ramos.
The detective did not raise his voice.
“You may ask for an attorney.
You may decline to answer questions.
But before anyone goes anywhere, I need to address evidence connected to an active investigation.”
Grant laughed once, without humor.
“Evidence supplied by my sister.”
“Some of it,” Ramos said.
“The rest came from the hospital, the bank, your father’s attorney, and a warrant served this morning.”
That stopped him.
The rain continued striking the stained-glass windows.
Inside the chapel, I could hear the low hum of the ventilation system and Celeste’s uneven breathing.
My phone still rested beside Dad’s hand.
Miriam nodded toward it.
“Play the rest, Claire.”
I touched the screen.
Dad’s voice returned, weak but unmistakably lucid.
“Grant brought papers.
Owen held my hand down.
