"Accomplice?!" Margaret screamed, her voice cracking into high, hysterical panic as she lunged toward the table, her hands trembling violently. "I am not an accomplice! Harold, tell him! I’m his wife! I didn't know anything about Geneva! I just wanted a new kitchen! I wanted to go to Alaska with Beverly!"
"Mrs. Whitfield," First Sergeant Donald Ray spoke up from the front door, his voice flat as an executioner's blade.
The state trooper pulled a clipboard from his leather belt, flipping to a certified municipal property deed.
Advertisement
"At nine-fifteen this morning, while your husband was undergoing medical procedures at the Veterans Administration hospital in Asheville, you signed a sworn affidavit of sole survivorship and non-probate abandonment at the Henderson County Register of Deeds."
The trooper tapped the document with a heavy, calloused finger.
"You stated under penalty of perjury that Harold Whitfield was deceased. You swore on a certified state instrument that your husband passed away in nineteen-ninety-nine, and that you were the sole surviving legal heir to his un-probated military personalty."
Advertisement
