Chapter 17 - Uncle David
Uncle David had not spoken to Dad in three years.
Old inheritance fight.
Old resentment.
Old family garbage.
Now his name sat in the middle of everything.
Dad called him.
David denied helping Karen.
Then Susan showed him email metadata.
His account had sent Patricia a scanned probate index eight months earlier.
David stopped denying.
“I sent public records.”
Dad stared.
“You sent my wife information about Emily’s will.”
“You knew we were fighting.”
I felt anger rise.
Karen had used the same story everywhere.
Greedy son.
Confused father.
Protective wife.
David looked at me.
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Did you ask Dad?”
“No.”
David looked down.
Dad whispered, “Why?”
David’s face hardened.
There it was.
Not fraud.
Not logic.
Dad laughed softly.
“Mom left us the same amount.”
“You got the house.”
“I bought your half.”
“You had the money.”
“I worked two jobs.”
David stood.
“This is not about that.”
Susan interrupted.
“Did Karen offer you money?”
Silence.
Dad stared.
“David?”
His brother sat again.
“Five thousand.”
I closed my eyes.
“For what?”
“To send records. That’s all.”
Susan said, “Did she tell you the purpose?”
“No.”
“Did you suspect?”
David said nothing.
Dad looked crushed.
Not shocked.
Crushed.
Karen had not invented the cracks in our family.
She had found them.
David eventually gave investigators access to his email.
There were more messages.
Karen repeatedly asked questions about Dad’s health, finances, and whether Megan or I would contest estate changes.
David answered.
Not all.
Enough.
When we left, Dad said, “I kept thinking Karen did this to us.”
“She did.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
That was harder.
Because it was true.
They had reached a final deal with Patricia and Ross.
Karen refused.
She wanted trial.
Susan said, “She thinks the jury will see a family dispute.”
May you like
Dad looked at me.
“Then the jury gets to see the video.”
