For Years, My Brother Was The Untouchable Golden Child. But After…

Intervention and Denials

He pushed Mom into the coffee table; however, Uncle David was faster. He stopped Jason before he crossed the living room, possibly from police training.

David crossed his arms in front of the door and refused to go until Jason explained where Grandma’s money went. David again obstructed Jason’s passage.

Dad performed something I hadn’t seen in 30 years. He pushed Uncle David away from the door with both hands on his chest and shouted to get out of Jason’s path.

David stood there gazing at my Dad, incredulous. I nearly expected a living room brawl.

The room was silent save for Aunt Rebecca’s crying. Nenah explained why a check bounced in her low bank voice.

She said she recorded every transfer after months of surveillance. Her calm voice was harsh.

Jason sent money frequently, she stated. He shifted cash daily, sometimes three or four times.

When he lost, she had dates, times, and sums. Within two seconds, my mother turned from protector to assailant toward Nenah.

She shouted at Nenah for violating banking privacy laws and damaging family confidence. She cautioned Nenah that spying on Jason’s finances may jeopardize her job.

Nenah stood with her arms at her sides and quietly stressed reporting elder financial abuse adds, “When bank employees see suspicious patterns of an elderly person’s money being drained by someone with power of attorney they’re actually required by law to document it and report suspected exploitation.”

She glanced at my mom and said she followed work standards. Uncle David contacted a detective who investigates elder financial crimes from his pocket phone.

My dad tried to take David’s phone, stating, “This was a family matter and we didn’t need police.”

David lifted the phone like a toy, like kids wrestling. Dad grabbed his arm to lower it since they were chest to chest, red-faced and breathing hard.

I expected fists. Aunt Rebecca jumped in and forced them apart with her hands on their chests and pleading.

She wept more, mascara running, saying, “This wasn’t helping.”

Jason kneeled in the living room, hands over his face and shoulders shaking. I presume his massive gulps were real.

He gambled while crying; he never meant things to get this bad. He assumed he could handle it and would repay Grandma when he got rich.

He looked up at everyone with tears and snot on his cheeks and stated he was so close to winning a massive jackpot that would have mended everything. He needed another big win.

My parents switched rapidly. Mom kneeled beside Jason and rocked him like a five-year-old.

She said, “It’s okay baby you’re sick you need help not judgment we’ll get you through this.”

Dad crouched and touched Jason’s back. He stood and spoke to the room.

He said Jason had realized he had a diagnosis that gambling addiction is a mental disorder and that we should treat him rather than blame him. He said real fans would assist Jason recover rather than attack him at his lowest point.

I stood up with the bank statement. Some of my relatives nodded with my dad, some looked uncomfortable, and some cried.

I spoke slowly and clearly so everyone could hear, “Anyone remember Grandma eating poor food in a cold house while Jason spent her life savings?”

Uncle David and Nenah nodded, and one of my cousins remembered Grandma moaning about the cold last winter. However, my folks thought I said the cruelest thing.

Mom looked horrified and said I didn’t sympathize with Jason’s mental illness. Dad said I tried to punish a sick person instead of assisting.

Uncle David called and turned from my dad to the kitchen with the phone to his ear. He explained the situation in his police voice.

All facts: abuse of power of attorney, elder financial exploitation, $150,000 gambling site payments over six months. Some family member worked at the bank and recorded every transaction.

My dad followed him to the kitchen doorway, saying that David was committing a terrible mistake that would ruin the family. Mom held Jason on the floor while he cried into her shoulder, and I stood with those bank documents, wondering how we got to where exposing stolen evidence was cruel.

The Official Investigation

Megan remarked as she arrived with two supermarket bags, “I brought Mom’s snacks.”

Her lips fell as she studied the entryway. Mom cuddled Jason on the floor while he wept on her shoulder.

Dad crossed his arms next to them, ready to fight anyone around. Uncle David returned from the kitchen with his phone.

In the corner chair, Aunt Rebecca wailed quietly. Nenah kept more bank statements nearby.

Three relatives searched for hiding spots in the furnishings. Megan gently placed the grocery bags and asked why everyone was crying.

Jason tried to speak but coughed and covered his face in Mom’s shoulder. Dad told Megan to go since this was a family issue.

Nenah told Megan she needed something important. She displayed the bank paperwork and calmly explained that Jason had power of attorney for his Grandma and moved $150,000 from her accounts to gambling sites over six months while she was dying.

Megan’s hands shook as she read the papers. Her face became white as she asked whether it was real.

Nenah nodded at her: transfer dates and amounts. Three hours after Jason’s $45,000 deposit on January 10th, Bet King Casino followed. January 25th, $25,000. February 3rd, $35,000.

Megan asked, “Dated and timed transfers; Jason’s dying Grandma’s money to gamble?”

Jason ultimately responded that it wasn’t; he couldn’t control his gambling disorder. Megan stopped him and asked how long he lied.

Her voice raised as she explained she loaned him $4,500 last month for business. Was that gambling money?

Jason didn’t answer, so Mom remarked, “It wasn’t the time to condemn him while he was hurting and needed support.”

Dad and Mom agreed that Jason’s loved ones should focus on solutions and support, not blame and punishment. Mom glanced at Megan and said she would help Jason through this terrible disease if she cared.

Uncle David came to the living room and said Detective Sarah Moore would interview and examine evidence. He said power of attorney prevented prosecution, but Grandma’s terminal illnesses and gaming site transfers promoted elder financial exploitation.

Dad was furious and pointed to the door, instructing David to go. David could not engage police in family affairs, he said.

David stayed and said Grandma was his sister, and he wouldn’t allow Jason to get away with her murder and life savings heist. Father tightened his hands, approaching David.

Aunt Rebecca emerged between them like a floor line. The living room split in half.

Uncle David was at the kitchen door. Aunt Rebecca stood behind him. Nenah approached with the bank statements.

Megan crossed the room to join Nenah after staring at Jason again. That side of the room was mine.

My parents virtually bodyguarded Jason as we stood. Anxious relatives glanced at each other from their chairs, wondering where to stand or what to do.

My Ohio cousin moved toward the door like she was fleeing. Mama hugged Jason and stared at us like we were attacking him.

Dad stood with shoulders back and jaw set. He ignored everyone. All halted as the doorbell rang.

Dad said no one answered the door. Uncle David assumed it was Detective Moore, so barring her entry wouldn’t help Jason.