Chapter 6 - The Grieving Heirs
The next morning, the rain in Minneapolis was steady and gray, beating against the floor-to-ceiling windows of James Morrison’s sixteenth-floor office. I was seated behind the frosted glass doors of an adjoining consultation room, where an audio monitor piped in every breath and whisper from the main conference table.
The outer doors opened. I heard the rustle of wet umbrellas and the soft, polished footsteps of two people who believed they were walking into their coronation.
"Thank you for seeing us so quickly, James," Tyler’s voice boomed through the speaker, smooth and heavy with theatrical grief. "It has been an absolute nightmare. The American embassy in Cairo was completely useless. We spent days searching the markets, but the police told us that once someone goes missing in that region... well, the sand storms are merciless."
Madison let out a soft, rehearsed sob. "I can't believe she's gone, James. First Dad, and now Mom. I feel like an orphan. I don't even know how to begin picking up the pieces."
"It is a terrible tragedy," James replied, his voice entirely neutral, the consummate professional giving nothing away. "The Egyptian authorities sent over an initial incident memo this morning. Of course, without a body, the formal death certificate will take time, but you mentioned on the phone that you found an urgent legal directive among Sarah's personal belongings before the trip?"
"Yes, exactly," Tyler jumped in eagerly. I could hear the rustle of leather as he leaned forward over the table. "Sarah gave Madison a signed power of attorney before we left. She wanted us to take over management of the portfolio so she wouldn't have to worry about bills anymore. Given the circumstances, with Sarah missing and presumed lost, we need to access the accounts immediately to settle her debts and maintain the estate property."
"Let me see that document," James said.
A moment of silence followed. I pictured James examining the forged signature they had undoubtedly cooked up in their hotel room while I was drinking ditch water with date farmers.
"This signature is dated October 12," James noted calmly. "Three days before you landed in Cairo. Interesting. Madison, did your mother appear lucid when she signed this?"
"Of course she was!" Madison said, her tone sharpening with subtle irritation. "Look, James, we don't need an interrogation. My mother is gone. I am her only child. Everything my father worked for belongs to me now anyway. Tyler has already spoken to a real estate broker about listing the Minneapolis house. We need the liquid capital released today."
"The house is already on the market?" James asked.
May you like
"We have to be practical," Tyler said with a chuckle that made my skin crawl. "Sarah would have wanted us to move forward with our lives. There's no point in letting an eight-bedroom house sit empty while the courts drag their feet."
"You're quite right, Tyler," James said smoothly. "Sarah was always a very practical woman. In fact, she felt so strongly about family responsibility that she insisted on delivering her final instructions to you in person."
