I looked at Robert.
He shook his head.
I let it ring.
Thirty seconds later, a text appeared.
Where is Dad?
Then another.
Hospital says he left with you.
And then:
Bring him home. Everyone is waiting.
Robert laughed bitterly.
“Funny how everyone suddenly became available.”
Franklin advised Robert not to return home alone.
He suggested staying at a hotel or somewhere safe while they documented the financial transfers.
Robert refused.
“No. That’s my house.”
He looked at me.
“I’m going home.”
I wasn’t comfortable with that.
“Robert—”
“If Daniel thinks I’m weak and confused, I want him to believe it for one more hour.”
Franklin leaned back.
“What exactly are you planning?”
Robert’s expression became strangely calm.
“I’m going to let them show me exactly what they expected me to sign.”
Franklin considered that.
“Do not sign anything.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t secretly record anything unless you’re certain about the law and where the conversation takes place.”
Robert nodded.
We left about twenty minutes later.
When we reached Robert’s neighborhood in Lee’s Summit, three vehicles were already parked outside his house.
Daniel’s black Cadillac.
Melissa’s white Lexus.
And Tyler’s pickup truck.
The same truck that had supposedly been too unreliable to drive fifteen minutes to the hospital.
Robert noticed.
“Miraculous recovery,” he muttered.
I pulled into the driveway.
Before I could even switch off the engine, Daniel came outside.
He was forty-six.
Broad-shouldered.
Expensive haircut.
Expensive watch.
Usually carrying the relaxed confidence of someone who expected every room to bend around him.
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