My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge

“Why did you hate Beatrice?”

Gregory closed his eyes for a long second and let out a slow, heavy breath.

“Because she knew,” Gregory said.

“She knew exactly what you did with the insurance claim,” I said.

“She was the only person who never bought my excuses,” Gregory said.

“She hired a forensic accountant.

She dragged me into probate court when you were just a baby.

She hired him.”