Chapter 3: The Man at the Top of the Stairs
My father took one step toward Travis.
"Look me in the eyes.""
Travis didn't.
"Robert, this is not a courtroom.""
"No. It's my daughter's funeral. And you've just been exposed as a liar in front of everyone who loved her.""
Travis pulled against the security men's grip.
"You're all making assumptions based on incomplete information!""
Gerald placed the recovered footage report on the table.
"Then perhaps you would like to explain why the camera shows you standing at the top of the stairs at 8:43 p.m.""
"I was checking on her.""
"Your original statement to the police said you were downstairs.""
"I could have gone upstairs afterward.""
"The footage has a continuous timestamp.""
Travis looked at the pastor.
Then at the congregation.
He seemed to be searching for someone who would defend him.
Nobody moved.
Sloane stood several feet away.
She had stopped crying.
Instead, she was staring at Travis as if she were seeing him for the first time.
"Travis," she said quietly.
"What happened that night?""
He didn't answer.
"Travis, look at me.""
"Not now.""
"Was she already on the floor when you called me?""
My head snapped toward her.
My mother looked up.
"What did you say?""
Sloane covered her mouth.
Travis turned toward her so quickly that one of the security men tightened his grip.
"Sloane.""
She took a step backward.
"Don't.""
"Don't say another word.""
Her eyes filled.
"You told me she was fine.""
The church became silent again.
I stepped toward her.
"What are you talking about?""
Sloane shook her head.
"I shouldn't have come.""
"Answer me.""
Travis moved between us.
"She doesn't know what she's talking about.""
Sloane's voice broke.
"You said she was fine when I called.""
Travis stared at her.
"And you told me to come over.""
She shook her head violently.
"No. I asked whether she was okay. You said she was resting.""
I felt my stomach turn.
Gerald slowly closed his briefcase.
"Miss Bennett, I would strongly advise you to speak with the authorities.""
Travis laughed bitterly.
"Now you're threatening her?""
"No. I'm giving her an opportunity to tell the truth.""
Sloane looked at the casket.
Then she looked at my mother.
"I'm sorry.""
My mother stood.
"Sorry for what?""
Sloane's lips trembled.
"For everything.""
She turned and walked toward the church doors.
Travis called after her.
"Sloane!""
She didn't stop.
The doors closed behind her.
Travis stared after her for several seconds.
Then he turned toward Gerald.
"You have no right to do this.""
Gerald opened his briefcase again.
"Actually, I do. I have a signed authorization from your wife.""
He removed a second document.
"And this one concerns her estate.""
Travis's expression changed.
"What?""
"Mrs. Calloway executed a revised will eleven days before her death.""
Travis shook his head.
"That's impossible.""
"It was signed in my office, witnessed by two independent individuals, and notarized.""
"My wife never changed her will.""
"She did.""
"Everything we owned was supposed to come to me.""
Gerald paused.
"Not anymore.""
A murmur spread through the pews.
I felt my father turn toward me.
I had no idea what was coming.
Gerald began reading.
"To my mother, Eleanor Monroe, I leave my personal jewelry collection, my family photographs, and the contents of my private savings account.""
My mother started crying again.
"To my father, Robert Monroe, I leave the antique watch he gave me on my eighteenth birthday, along with my grandfather's pocket Bible.""
Gerald turned a page.
"To my sister, Natalie Monroe, I leave the property at 18 Willow Creek Road, the Monroe family cottage, and all personal correspondence stored in my private study.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
Gerald looked at me.
"Your sister also left you the authority to manage the Lucas Monroe Trust.""
My mouth fell open.
"The Lucas Trust?""
"Yes.""
"But Lucas...""
I couldn't finish.
Gerald lowered his eyes.
"Mrs. Calloway had established the trust before her death. It was intended to provide for her son.""
My father swallowed.
"How much?""
Gerald consulted the document.
"Approximately 2.4 million dollars in assets, including investments, insurance proceeds, and a property held separately from the marital estate.""
Travis suddenly laughed.
It was a short, ugly sound.
"She can't do that.""
Gerald looked up.
"She already did.""
"That money is mine.""
"No, Mr. Calloway. It isn't.""
"She was my wife!""
"And she made a legally valid decision concerning her own assets.""
Travis stepped toward the attorney.
"You're telling me she left everything to them?""
"Not everything.""
Gerald turned another page.
"She left you the contents of your personal clothing and belongings, along with a letter.""
Travis stared.
"A letter?""
"Yes.""
Gerald removed a sealed envelope.
It had Travis's full name written across the front in Grace's handwriting.
I recognized the way she made the letter T.
She always crossed it twice.
Travis reached for it.
Gerald held it back.
"I was instructed to read this aloud.""
Travis's voice became sharp.
"Give it to me privately.""
"Your wife requested otherwise.""
He opened the envelope.
"Travis,
If you're hearing this at my funeral, then you did exactly what I feared you would do. You brought Sloane into a place where my family came to say goodbye to me.""
Travis closed his eyes.
Gerald continued.
"I used to think that if I loved you enough, you would eventually remember how to love me. I thought that if I became a better wife, a more understanding woman, a quieter woman, you would stop making me feel as though I was competing with someone I had never met.""
My mother covered her face.
"But I was wrong.""
Gerald paused.
"Love should never require a woman to ignore what her eyes can see.""
I looked at the casket.
I could almost imagine Grace sitting beside me, reading those words herself.
She continued through the attorney.
"I know about Sloane. I know about the money. I know about the meetings you held when you thought I was asleep.""
Travis's face had become rigid.
"I also know you have been telling people that I am unstable.""
Gerald stopped briefly.
"Your wife included an additional instruction here.""
He looked directly at Travis.
"She wrote: 'Do not let him use my pregnancy to excuse his behavior. I was not confused. I was not imagining things. And I was not careless.''"
The words landed like a slap.
Travis looked at the casket.
For one brief moment, I thought he might finally break down.
Instead, he whispered:
"She had no right.""
My father stepped forward.
"No right? She was your wife.""
Travis turned.
"She was ruining my life!""
The words came out before he could stop them.
The church froze.
My mother slowly lowered her hands.
I stared at him.
"What did you just say?""
Travis looked around.
"I didn't mean—"
"You said she was ruining your life.""
"That's not what I meant.""
"Then explain what you meant.""
He rubbed his face.
"She was becoming impossible. Everything was an argument. She was checking my phone, questioning my business, accusing me of things.""
I moved closer.
"Because you were cheating on her.""
"She wouldn't leave it alone!""
My father's voice rose.
"She was pregnant with your child!""
Travis looked at him.
"Do you think I don't know that?""
My father grabbed the back of a pew.
"Then why weren't you with her?""
Travis had no answer.
Gerald quietly returned to the letter.
"There's another paragraph.""
Travis shook his head.
"No.""
Gerald continued.
"To my husband, I leave one final thing: the truth.""
The attorney removed a folded sheet from the envelope.
"On the evening of October 14, I received a call from someone who said he had information about Travis's financial activities. He identified himself as Victor Hale.""
Travis's expression changed so dramatically that I noticed it before anyone else.
Gerald continued.
"Victor told me that Travis had been involved in a financial arrangement that was never disclosed to me. He claimed that my husband's business was in serious trouble and that money had been moved through accounts connected to our household.""
My father frowned.
"Financial trouble?""
Gerald nodded.
"That appears to be one of the matters investigators are examining.""
Travis shook his head.
"Victor is a liar.""
Gerald looked at him.
"Then perhaps you can explain why he sent your wife copies of these documents.""
He removed several printed pages.
Bank transfers.
Company records.
A property deed.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed Travis standing outside a hotel with a man I didn't recognize.
On the back, Grace had written two words.
He knows.
Gerald placed it on the table.
"Mrs. Calloway believed that Victor Hale possessed information about her husband's activities.""
Travis stared at the photograph.
"Where did you get that?""
"From your wife's private study.""
"That's stolen property.""
"Again, it belonged to your wife.""
Travis's voice rose.
"She had no idea what she was looking at!""
Gerald calmly replied.
"Then why did she write down the account numbers?""
Travis went silent.
Gerald took another document from the briefcase.
"There's one more thing.""
I almost couldn't bear it.
My sister's funeral had become a courtroom without a judge.
But I couldn't leave.
Not when Grace had fought so hard to make sure we heard her.
Gerald turned toward me.
"Natalie, your sister specifically asked me to give this to you.""
He handed me a small cream-colored envelope.
My name was written across it.
My hands trembled.
"What's this?""
"A personal letter. She asked that you read it after the public statement.""
I opened it.
Inside was a single folded sheet.
The first line made my eyes fill immediately.
My dearest Nat, if you're holding this, I'm sorry I didn't get to tell you everything myself.
I pressed the paper against my chest.
Gerald continued addressing the congregation.
"Mrs. Calloway also left instructions concerning the release of evidence to law enforcement.""
Travis looked up.
"What evidence?""
Gerald closed the briefcase.
"The complete security recording, financial records, and a second audio file.""
Travis's eyes narrowed.
"Second audio file?""
"Yes.""
"What does it contain?""
Gerald hesitated.
"Your wife recorded a conversation between herself and another individual.""
"Who?""
Gerald looked down at the document.
Then he looked at Travis.
"Someone who was present in the house shortly before her death.""
Travis's face turned gray.
I gripped my sister's letter.
"Who was it?""
Gerald didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he removed a final sealed envelope.
"This recording has been placed under legal protection. I was instructed to release it only after the authorities had received the original security footage.""
My father stepped closer.
"Mr. Finch, please. We deserve to know.""
Gerald nodded.
"I agree.""
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten note.
He read the final sentence aloud.
"Grace identified the second person in the house as someone her family trusted.""
My stomach dropped.
Someone we trusted?
I looked at my mother.
She was crying.
My father looked confused.
Then Gerald unfolded the attached page.
And read the name.
"According to Mrs. Calloway, the person who entered the house that evening was...""
He stopped.
His eyes moved toward the back of the church.
I followed his gaze.
A familiar figure stood near the entrance.
Someone who had been sitting quietly throughout the entire funeral.
Someone who had hugged my mother when we first arrived.
Someone who had cried when the pastor mentioned Lucas.
Gerald's voice lowered.
"Mr. Robert Monroe.""
My father went completely still.
My mother screamed.
May you like
And I dropped Grace's letter.
Because my father had just been accused by his own dead daughter of being present in the house on the night she died.
