The Bank Records Showed Where The Missing Advance Had Gone

Nadeem's claim came with a single bank page. It showed $72,000 leaving Cedar Bend Felt. The bottom was cut off, just above the name of the account that received it.

“That isn't proof Mother got it,” I said.

“No,” Ellen said. “But we still have to answer the claim.”

We filed a written objection. Ellen asked for the complete transfer record and the papers supporting his story. She also arranged an audit of the estate's accounts.

I went back to work for three days while we waited. The court had kept the bales at West Spur under a written order. Ruth logged every visit to the grading house.

At a ranch near Eldorado, I held a ewe between my knees and took the wool off in clean blows. My shoulder hurt by lunch.

The rancher asked if the family trouble was done.

“We found the wool,” I said. “Still looking for the truth about the money.”

“Harder to pen,” he said.

I sent Ellen $960 from that job. She told me to keep every receipt. Proper estate costs could be reviewed and repaid through the estate. That did not make the first checks easier to write.

The auditor was a quiet woman named Beth Anwar. Her fee for the first review was $3,400. She worked at Mother's table with two screens and a pencil.

She checked every estate bank account against the books. There was no $72,000 deposit. There was no loan from Nadeem in the debt ledger.

Mother's business account held $18,460 on the day she died. Its biggest recent deposit had been $6,200 for grading work.

Beth did find mistakes. Mother had entered a $186 repair twice and put a postage charge in the wrong month.

I watched Beth mark them in pencil.

“I thought her books would be perfect,” I said.

“They don't have to be perfect. They have to be open to checking.”

We kept the correction sheet with the audit. I would not make Mother into someone who never added a column wrong. I only needed the truth about this money.

“Could she have taken cash?” I asked.

“Possible isn't a finding,” Beth said. “Let's see what the records support.”

She counted accounts receivable, the money customers still owed. She separated those from money held for customers. She also kept the ranch's wool out of the estate inventory.

“Storage doesn't make you the owner,” she said.

I thought of Nadeem standing beside the green drawers.

Two weeks later, bank records arrived through the court process. The mill had supplied its full transfer receipt too.

The $72,000 had gone into Raza Trading's account on February twenty-eighth.

On March first, $70,000 had gone to pay off Nadeem's own business loan. The other $2,000 had paid overdue rent on his brokerage office.

The loan file named Nadeem as the borrower. Mother had not signed it, guaranteed it, or received any proceeds.

Beth put the records in date order.

“The mill paid for wool,” she said. “He spent the advance before he arranged the local haul.”

“Then he tried to sell the wool again,” I said.

“And now he says the estate got the money,” Ellen added.

Ruth found another piece in Mother's export archive. It was a saved email from March fourth, addressed to Nadeem.

I have not approved the Lark Creek release. Jo must sign before any sale. Send the actual location today.

Mother had copied Ruth because she kept the shipping record.

The next morning, Mother had suffered her stroke. Nadeem had later told Ruth he was working with the ranch to settle the problem.

“I should have asked for the settlement,” Ruth said.

“You were keeping files,” I told her. “He was the broker.”

She looked at the email again.

“I'll still ask sooner next time.”

Ellen sent the records to Victor and offered dates for Nadeem's sworn questioning. Jo's lawyer and the mill's lawyer would attend.

That evening, Nadeem came to the house. I met him on the porch. The door stayed locked behind me.

“We can keep this in the family,” he said.

“The ranch and the mill aren't our family.”

“Withdraw the objection. I'll withdraw my claim. We both walk away.”

“Your claim says Mother got money she never got.”

“She owed me years of work.”

“Then you needed an honest bill.”

He looked past me toward the dark window.

“She changed that will because you played the poor son.”

I had a dozen answers. I let them go.

“Send your proposal to Ellen.”

He left without touching the steps' loose rail.

The following morning, Victor delivered a settlement offer. It required everyone to release Nadeem before he made the first payment.

Ellen set it aside.

Then she slid a new notice toward me.

Nadeem's questioning was set for Friday, under oath, with the complete bank records marked as exhibits.