Lisa typed Frank’s Social Security number into her terminal, but the screen flashed a red error box.

She entered the account code a second time, adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, and then looked up at me.

“I can’t process this check, Mara,” Lisa whispered.

“It’s a joint trust account set up just for burial costs,” I said.

“My signature has been on that file since 2012.”

Lisa turned her monitor a little so I could see the bold black letters across the screen.

“Gene Miller presented executor authority papers at one forty-five today,” Lisa said quietly.