The day my father-in-law was finally discharged from St. Joseph Medical Center in Kansas City, every single member of my wife’s family suddenly had an excuse for why they couldn’t come get him.

My wife, Emily, was in Denver attending a required training conference.

Her older brother, Daniel, claimed he had an important client meeting.

Her younger sister, Melissa, said one of her children was sick.

Even Daniel’s twenty-two-year-old son, Tyler, who lived less than fifteen minutes from the hospital, texted that his truck was “having issues.”

I lived in Columbia, Missouri.

That meant driving more than 120 miles each way.

I’ll admit I was annoyed.

Robert Harrison had been hospitalized for nine days after complications from heart surgery.

He was seventy-one.

Weak.

Still unsteady on his feet.

Whatever problems his children had with him, somebody should have been there when he left the hospital.

I arrived shortly after noon.

Robert was sitting in a wheelchair near the discharge desk, dressed in khaki pants and an old navy jacket.

There was something strange about his expression.

He looked like a man who had learned something during those nine days that he wished he hadn’t.

A nurse helped him into my SUV.

I loaded his medication and overnight bag into the back.

Then I sat behind the wheel.

“Ready to go home?”

Robert suddenly grabbed my wrist.

His grip was surprisingly strong.

“Don’t take me home.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

“Drive me straight to my lawyer.”

Robert’s longtime attorney, Franklin Shaw, had an office in Overland Park.

“That’s almost forty minutes in the opposite direction.”

“I know.”

Robert looked toward the hospital entrance.

Then he leaned closer.

“Daniel thinks I’m going to die.”

The sentence sent a chill through me.

“What are you talking about?”

Robert reached inside his jacket and removed a folded bank statement.

Three withdrawals had been circled in red.

$18,000.

$32,500.

$41,000.

All within twelve days.

“My investment account,” he said quietly. “Daniel has power of attorney because I trusted him.”

I looked at him.

“Did you approve any of this?”

“No.”

My stomach tightened.

“Have you asked him about it?”

Robert shook his head.

“Melissa came to see me yesterday. She thought I was sleeping.”

He paused.

“She called Daniel from the hallway.”

“What did she say?”

Robert’s voice dropped.

“Once Dad gets home, we need to get him to sign the rest before he changes his mind.”

For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.

Robert looked through the windshield.

“They weren’t too busy to pick me up, Michael.”

He turned toward me.

“They’re all waiting at my house.”

“For what?”

“For me to sign papers giving Daniel control over everything.”

He swallowed.

“And if I refuse, I don’t know what they’ll do next.”

I started the engine.

“We’re going to Franklin.”