Chapter 3 - The Wolves Circle the Meat
The next morning, the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh blueberry pancakes drifted through the second floor.
I had spent half the night sitting in an armchair beside the bed, watching Elena sleep. It was the first time she had slept on a mattress with clean cotton sheets in over fourteen months. Even in sleep, she flinched at every creak of the floorboards, curling into a tight ball beneath three heavy comforters.
At dawn, I had quietly slipped out of the house, drove into the nearest strip mall twenty miles away, and returned with two large duffel bags containing soft cashmere sweaters, thick thermal leggings, warm socks, and gentle skin balms. When Elena woke up, she found a steaming cup of herbal tea and a plate of fresh fruit waiting on the bedside table.
"Stay here until I call you down," I had told her. "Lock the door from the inside. Do not answer if anyone knocks except me."
Now, as I descended the stairs dressed in a tailored charcoal button-down shirt and pressed dark denim, the dining room looked like a scene from a holiday commercial.
Margaret was wearing her Sunday church dress—a pale lavender number with pearls at her throat. Travis had actually put on a collared polo shirt, and Brianna sat at the table with an iPad open, tapping furiously on the screen.
"Daniel! Good morning, darling!" Margaret beamed, setting a platter of eggs and sausage in the center of the mahogany table. "Did you sleep well? You look so handsome. The Canada air did wonders for your shoulders."
"I slept well enough," I said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "Elena is resting."
Brianna looked up, offering a sympathetic pout that turned my stomach. "Poor thing. Daniel, you must understand... she had a severe psychological breakdown after your accident. The doctor said she was suffering from paranoid schizophrenia. She wouldn't eat from clean plates. She insisted on digging in the dirt. We were only trying to manage her delusions."
"Is that why she was locked outside in freezing temperatures?" I asked mildly, picking up a piece of toast.
"She ran outside herself!" Travis chimed in, shoveling eggs into his mouth. "She got violent, bro. Broke a vase over Mom’s arm last month. We had to use tough love. We were going to put her in a private care facility in Columbus next week. It was going to cost us eight thousand dollars out of pocket. We sacrificed *everything* for your household, man."
"I see," I murmured. "Eight thousand dollars. That’s a lot of money for a guy who hasn't held a steady job since the lumber yard closed."
Travis choked on his orange juice, coughing into a napkin.
Margaret quickly jumped in. "Travis has been managing my estate, Daniel! And looking after the family business prospects. Speaking of which... that international settlement disbursement you mentioned yesterday?"
She slid into the chair opposite me, folding her hands neatly on the table. Her eyes were burning with poorly concealed hunger.
"I called our family accountant this morning," Margaret continued in a conspiratorial whisper. "Mr. Henderson. He said that if you transfer the funds into a joint family trust under my name, we can shelter the entire million from federal gift taxes. Then, I can distribute Travis's share and Brianna's allowance without any IRS penalties."
"Is that so?" I leaned back, crossing my arms. "That's convenient. Because Travis mentioned yesterday that he was looking into an investment."
Travis sat up straight, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. "Bro, listen to this! The marina down on Lake Erie is selling slips and dry-dock storage. If I buy three commercial slips right now—about one hundred and fifty grand—we can lease them out during boat season. We’d pull twenty percent passive return! Plus, Brianna needs a new SUV to commute to her real estate courses. A Lexus GX, maybe seventy grand. We could pay cash!"
"And what about you, Mom?" I asked, looking at Margaret. "What does the matriarch need?"
Margaret smoothed her apron, a modest, pious smile touching her lips. "Well... you know this old house has seen better days, Daniel. The roof needs cedar shakes. The kitchen needs marble countertops. And I’ve always dreamed of visiting the Holy Land on a luxury pilgrimage cruise. Fifty thousand would cover the whole trip, first-class flights included."
They had already spent nearly half a million dollars before I had even swallowed my second bite of breakfast.
"It sounds like you’ve thought this through," I said, pulling a leather-bound folio from my bag and laying it on the table.
The three of them stopped breathing. Their eyes latched onto the folder like starving dogs watching a steak hit the floor.
"What's that?" Brianna whispered, leaning across the table.
"These are the preliminary authorization waivers," I said, tapping the black leather. "Under the Canadian court settlement order, before any funds can be dispersed to blood relatives, every recipient must complete a formal Statement of Solvency and Asset Disclosure under oath."
Travis frowned slightly. "What does that mean?"
"It means," I explained with clinical patience, "the settlement board must verify that none of you have outstanding liabilities, undisclosed judgments, or unrecorded asset transfers that could be seized by third-party creditors. If I transfer two hundred thousand to you, Travis, and you have an unpaid creditor, the court will hold me liable for fraudulent conveyance."
"Oh," Travis relaxed, grinning. "We don't owe nobody nothing. Our credit is clean."
"Then you won't mind signing the disclosure forms," I said, sliding three identical stacks of paper across the table. "You list every asset you currently hold, every vehicle title in your possession, every bank account, and you swear under penalty of perjury that you have never misappropriated funds belonging to me or my wife. Once those are notarized at the county clerk's office, the funds will be wired into your designated accounts within twenty-four hours."
Margaret snatched the top pen from the holder. "I'll sign right now!"
"Not yet, Mom," I said, resting my fingers lightly over the first page. "The signatures must be witnessed by a certified notary and an officer of the municipal court. I’ve already scheduled an appointment for tomorrow morning at ten o'clock."
"Tomorrow?" Travis groaned playfully. "Man, the dealership on Route 4 has that Lexus in pearl white on the lot right now! Can't we just do an online notary?"
"Patience, Travis," Margaret chided him, though her own hands were shaking with anticipation. "Twenty-four hours is nothing. Daniel is doing this by the book. He’s taking care of his family."
"Always, Mom," I said, standing up from the table. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go into town to meet with the regional settlement liaison to finalize the wire schedules. Look after Elena while I'm gone. If she is missing so much as a single meal, the court officer will consider this household unfit, and the settlement will be frozen indefinitely."
Margaret's head snapped up. "Don't you worry about a thing, sweetheart! I'll personally bring her a plate of fresh fruit and chicken breast right now! Brianna, go put the kettle on for Elena!"
"On it, Mom!" Brianna chirped, practically dancing toward the stove.
I turned and walked toward the front door, slipping my coat on.
May you like
Behind me, the wolves were already bickering over how they would spend the carcass of my fortune. Little did they know, every line of those disclosure documents had been drafted by a criminal defense attorney—and by signing them under oath tomorrow, they were writing their own confessions.
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