Chapter 3 - The Harbor House Promise
"Lies," Derek said, too quickly.
Samuel didn't argue.
He slid a photograph from the folder.
It showed an old brick building overlooking a gray Chesapeake inlet.
Harbor House.
Dad had bought it with money inherited from his sister June, long before his health failed.
He wanted it converted into transitional housing for wounded veterans and their families.
"Somebody gave me a place to breathe after I came home," he once told me. "I'd like to do that for someone else."
He placed the property and a rehabilitation endowment inside a charitable trust.
The trust's rules were plain: its assets couldn't be used for personal business expenses.
Derek had been hired to manage renovations through his contracting company, Barker Development.
"A legitimate contractor gets paid," Derek snapped.
"For work performed," Samuel said. "That's the part we're trying to verify."
A woman rose from the nearest donor table.
Dr. Nadia Cruz was the volunteer treasurer who had spent two years asking Derek for receipts.
"I have requested the same invoices eleven times," she said.
Derek glared at her.
"Sit down, Nadia."
"No."
That single word seemed to shock him more than the entire standing room.
My mother moved between us.
"Frank trusted Derek."
"Frank trusted you, too," Samuel answered quietly.
Two police officers entered the ballroom.
Master Chief Ward showed them the event-security recording and identified the people who had witnessed the assault.
I asked the officers to make a report.
Derek's mouth fell open.
"You're calling the cops on your own brother?"
"You struck a woman in front of four hundred witnesses. I'm not hiding it for you."
As the officers spoke to him, Samuel touched the bottom of Dad's letter.
"There's more. Your father revised the trust's succession provisions before he died."
"Who takes over?" I asked.
May you like
He unfolded the final page.
"You do, Caroline. But tomorrow morning, Derek intends to transfer Harbor House out of the trust."
