CHAPTER 6
I shut the heavy oak door, turning the deadbolt with a sharp, satisfying click that echoed through the quiet foyer of my oceanfront home.
Deputy Miller and his partner remained outside to ensure Robert and Megan loaded their bags and left the island without causing further property damage.
Arthur Vance walked with me into the kitchen, helping me pick up the discarded plastic cups and paper plates left behind by the uninvited crowd.
"Are you going to be alright staying here alone tonight, Eleanor?" Arthur asked gently, placing a stack of legal documents on the marble island counter.
"I have spent seven years alone in this house since Henry passed away, Arthur," I replied, grabbing a clean dish towel and wiping down the counter. "I have never felt safer than I do right now."
"Your son called my office four times while we were driving over," Arthur noted, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the screen. "He's claiming Megan misled him about the financial status of your estate."
"Robert is a grown man, Arthur," I said, looking out the large bay window at the blue Atlantic waves rolling onto the white sand. "He chose to listen to a woman who saw his mother as nothing more than a bank account waiting to be closed."
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"The trust documents are fully recorded with the Beaufort County Registrar," Arthur assured me, nodding toward the gold-stamped binder. "There is not a single lawyer in the state of South Carolina who could break this trust structure."
"Good," I said softly, taking a deep breath of the salty ocean air drifting through the open window. "Then tomorrow morning, I am going to hire a local carpenter to fix my rose garden fence."
