Chapter 5 - The Second Signature
I drove to a gas station ten miles from the house.
I left my regular phone inside the car.
Then I used a prepaid phone purchased from the cashier.
Michael answered on the second ring.
“Daniel?”
“How did you know?”
He exhaled.
“I didn’t.”
“But something has felt wrong for months.”
“Explain.”
“Claire has requested copies of almost every estate document you have.”
“Life insurance?”
“Yes.”
“Corporate succession agreements?”
“Yes.”
“Medical authority?”
“Yes.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“She provided written authorization.”
“From me?”
“Yes.”
“I never signed anything.”
Michael went silent.
Then he said, “There’s more.”
I waited.
“Three weeks ago, someone contacted me claiming to be your psychiatrist.”
“I don’t have a psychiatrist.”
“I know that now.”
My stomach turned.
“Marcus Vale?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“He asked how mental incapacity would be established under your trust.”
Traffic moved past the station.
For a moment, every sound seemed distant.
“Michael, I need copies of everything Claire sent you.”
“I already made them.”
“Do not email them.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
He paused.
“Daniel, what is happening?”
“I don’t know yet.”
That was only partly true.
I knew enough to be terrified.
Michael lowered his voice.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“Someone tried to obtain a second signature authorization yesterday.”
“For what?”
“A sale.”
My heart skipped.
“Sale of what?”
“Your voting shares.”
“To whom?”
“A holding company in Nevada.”
“Name?”
“Northstar Strategic Holdings.”
I wrote it down.
“Who owns it?”
“That information is shielded.”
I already knew who would be behind it.
Claire.
Or whoever Claire worked for.
Before hanging up, Michael said something that changed my next move.
“You should know the trust amendment you signed today isn’t the first version.”
I stopped breathing.
“What do you mean?”
“There was another document submitted last month.”
“It contains your signature.”
“And?”
Michael’s voice became quiet.
“It grants Claire authority if you die.”
I stared at the passing cars.
“I didn’t sign it.”
“I suspected that.”
“How?”
“Because the signature matches.”
I frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“It matches too perfectly.”
Michael continued.
“Every curve.”
“Every pressure point.”
“Every stroke.”
“No human signs their name identically twice.”
Someone had copied my authenticated signature digitally.
May you like
This was no longer preparation.
Forgery had already begun.
