“Here is the recorded deed placing this property into the Miriam Sinclair Trust twelve years ago, and here is the trustee designation naming Audrey Sinclair as the sole beneficiary.” Lydia held up a third page, which was the legal notice sent to Harrison Beaumont’s counsel acknowledging his right to limited seasonal occupancy only.
Victoria’s expression turned blank in the way faces do when the mind is racing too fast to choose which lie to tell next. My father’s name seemed to hang in the salt air like something dead and forgotten.
The older officer took the papers from Lydia and read the first page carefully before glancing up at me. “Are you Audrey Sinclair, and was your mother Miriam Sinclair?” he asked.
I nodded my head and met his gaze with a level stare. “Yes, that is correct.”
He looked at the documents again and then turned his attention back to Victoria. “Then why were we told that this was a domestic dispute involving a residence owned by Mr. Beaumont?” he asked.
Lydia gave him a look that was almost gentle in its profound disappointment. “That, officer, is an excellent question that I would like to hear the answer to as well.”