My Father Brought a Locksmith to Sell the Ranch I Bought
“My father had Christmas dinner without me,” I said. My voice sounded flat in the small office. “He told me the table was full. He said Linda was too tired to host more than four people.”
Rachel looked at me. Her eyes were quiet, but her jaw was set.
“He did not want you at the table, Olivia,” Rachel said. “Because if you had sat in that dining room, you would have asked about your mail. You would have seen the bank statements that arrived that week.”
“The statements showing thirty thousand dollars missing,” I said.
“Exactly,” Rachel said.
She looked back at Vance.
“We need a certified copy of this transfer slip,” Rachel said. “And the signature card from Olivia’s original file from ten years ago.”
Vance hesitated. He looked at the court order still sitting on his desk.
“I can copy the transfer slip,” Vance said. “But the original signature card is on microfiche in our regional office.”
“Then you will call them and have it faxed by noon,” Rachel said.
