Chapter 4 - The Discovery of the Will
The weekend was a race against time. While Marcus’s security team guarded the Annapolis safe house, Blythe and Arthur Pendelton spent forty-eight hours in the dusty vault of the old Sutter family estate in Annapolis, searching for the original handwritten logs Thomas Sutter had kept before his sudden death five years earlier.
"Your father was a cautious man, Blythe," Arthur said, lifting a heavy iron lockbox onto the table. "He never trusted Reed. He told me weeks before his heart attack that he suspected Reed was inflating the logistics costs to skim from the primary accounts."
Blythe unlocked the box using the key she had carried beneath her collar—the companion key to the one that had unlocked her son’s collar. Inside, wrapped in oilcloth, was her father’s personal journal, along with a sealed white envelope marked To Blythe, In Case of My Absence.
She tore open the envelope, her eyes scanning the familiar, elegant handwriting of her father.
Blythe, my darling,
If you are reading this, it means I was right to fear the people you brought into our home. Reed Mallory is not the man he pretends to be. Before you left for your contract, he approached me with a document attempting to transfer the deed of the Severn River house to his name, claiming it was for 'tax purposes.' I refused.
Two days later, I discovered he had been systematically altering the medical history files of our family line. He was trying to establish a paper trail to prove you were mentally incompetent before you even took the contract. He used a corrupt doctor in Baltimore to file false psychiatric evaluations. I have hidden the original, unaltered medical records and the real deed in the safe deposit box at Maryland National Bank under code 'Starfish.'
Protect Ellis, Blythe. He is the true heart of this family.
Love, Dad.
May you like
Blythe held the letter against her chest, a single, hot tear spilling down her cheek. Her father hadn't died of a random heart attack; the stress of fighting Reed’s silent encroachment had killed him.
"Arthur," Blythe said, her voice shaking with an intense, quiet rage. "Call the bank manager. I don't care if it's Sunday. Tell him the daughter of Thomas Sutter is coming to claim her inheritance."
