“It’s a real big estate, bro. We couldn’t get the exact figures out of him, but it was clear that Dad was worth a lot of money. More than we…”

Bram said, “Mom’s going to need lots of help and support now. It’s good she won’t have to worry about money.”

“I’m just wondering if Mom’s up to it?”

The priest waited for his twin to continue.

“Mom isn’t Dad,” Luke stated. “A fortune suddenly drops in her lap, she isn’t used to dealing with that kind of balance sheet…I don’t want people to rip her off, that’s all.”

“She’s not helpless without Dad—”

“I didn’t say she was.”

“She handled all the household finances—”

“That’s not the same thing as investing and maintaining a seven-figure bank account. Dad’s always taken care of her, Golden. I’m suggesting we keep a watch over her.”

“Fine. We’ll keep a watch over her.”

Luke scratched his head. “Waterson mentioned something about an insurance policy also.”

“Good.”

“Six million bucks, to be exact.”

“Whoa!” Slowly, Bram sat back in his chair. “Man, that is a lot of money.”

“A proverbial shitload.”

“I don’t recall the word shitload in the Book of Proverbs, but yes, that’s a tremendous haul.” Bram paused. “That is a large insurance policy. The premiums must have been enormous. I wonder why Dad did that when he had so much in the bank. I love Mom, but she doesn’t spend on anything except food. What in the world is she going to do with six million dollars?”

“Mom’s not the beneficiary.”

Bram stared at his brother.

“Six million…six kids.” Luke shrugged carelessly. “Dad was always an even-handed guy.”

Bram opened, then closed his mouth. “You’re kidding!”

“You should have been there when Waterson told us. Paul’s eyelids were beating so fast, he just about flew away.”

Again, the office went quiet.

Luke said, “A rather fortunate windfall for him—”

“Luke—”

“The man is in deep debt.”

“David and Eva aren’t doing so hot, either.”

“Nothing like Paul. He’s drowning in red ink.”

“Your insinuations are ugly.”

“So you’re better than me. We already know that.”

Bram stared at his brother, then rubbed his eyes. “You want some advice?”

“Can I stop you?”

“Truth be told, Lucas, even I, the saint of St. Thomas’s, entertained the same thought as you about Paul. But I’m smart enough not to verbalize it. Because once you talk, you can’t take it back. Do you ever think before you speak?”

“Nah, you do enough of that for the both of us.”

“You say things, Luke. I know what you mean. But no one else does—”

“Mind you, I really don’t think Paul killed Dad for money. But hey, a lot stranger things have happened.”