Mark: Clara, take a drink of water first. You're shaking.
Mark Vance pulled a wooden chair out for her in his small, quiet law office downtown.
Clara: I don't want water, Mark. He hit me and threw me out on the street.
Mark: Did you go to the hospital? We need medical records if we're filing a police report.
Clara: The police won't touch him without solid proof, Mark. He owns half the precinct's charity funds.
Mark: Then we hit him where it actually hurts. We go after the family estate.
Clara leaned over the desk, resting her elbows on the cool wooden surface.
Clara: Is there any money left in my father's account?
Mark: I checked the bank ledgers two hours ago. The entire balance is gone.
Clara: How much was in there before Richard took control?
Mark: Twelve million dollars. All moved to an off-shore investment account in the Bahamas.
Clara buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling with quiet anger.
Clara: My father worked thirty years to build that trust for my sister and me.
Mark: Richard used a power of attorney document dated three weeks ago to clear out the account.
Clara: Three weeks ago? My father was in a medically induced coma three weeks ago!
Mark: That's what we need to prove in front of a probate judge.
Clara: He forged my father's signature while he was unconscious in the hospital.
Mark: If he did, that is grand larceny, wire fraud, and forgery, Clara.
Clara: How do we get the hospital logs? Richard's cousin is the chief administrator at St. Jude's.
Mark: Then we find someone who works the night shift who isn't on Richard's payroll.
Clara pulled her phone out of her purse, her fingers flying across the screen.
Clara: I know one nurse. Nurse Sarah worked in the intensive care unit the night Dad was admitted.
Mark: Call her right now. Ask her if she kept a copy of the night visitor log.
Clara put the phone to her ear, listening to the quiet ringing tone in the dimly lit office.
Sarah: Hello? Clara, is that you?
Clara: Sarah, I need your help. It's about my father's admission records from last month.
Sarah: Clara, I shouldn't be talking about this on the phone. Dr. Sterling told everyone to keep quiet.
Clara: Sarah, please. Richard stole my father's entire estate and threw me out on the street tonight.
Sarah: Oh, my goodness... Clara, listen to me carefully.
Clara: Did Richard come to the hospital that night?
Sarah: He came into the room at two in the morning with a notary public and a stack of papers.
Clara: Was my father conscious?
Sarah: No. He was completely unresponsive. They pressed his thumb onto an ink pad to stamp the papers.
Clara closed her eyes as a hot tear ran down her bruised cheek.
Clara: Will you testify to that in court, Sarah?
Sarah: If you protect my job, Clara, I will tell the judge everything I saw.
Clara: Mark is sitting right next to me. We're going to make sure nobody ever touches your job.
Mark: Tell her to meet us at the county courthouse at seven tomorrow morning.
Clara: Did you hear that, Sarah?
Sarah: I'll be there with the original patient intake folder.
Clara hung up the phone and looked up at Mark with dark determination in her eyes.
Clara: We have him, Mark. We finally have him.
Mark: Now we just have to survive until tomorrow morning without Richard finding out.