Chapter 4 - The Signature
My father's attorneys arrived before breakfast.
There were three of them.
The youngest, Rachel Kim, specialized in financial fraud.
She listened to my conversation with Vanessa twice.
“Do you have any knowledge of signing divorce documents?”
“No.”
“Property transfers?”
“No.”
“Changes involving the Highland Park residence?”
“No.”
She wrote something down.
“Any digital signatures recently?”
“My accountant sends tax documents.”
“Does Grant have access to those accounts?”
My answer came too slowly.
Rachel noticed.
“He knows my passwords.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“He said married people shouldn't hide things.”
Rachel's face remained neutral.
“Claire, did he have access to your email?”
“Yes.”
“Cloud storage?”
“Yes.”
“Investment statements?”
“Probably.”
“Your trust documents?”
I stared at my father.
Arthur stood.
“I'll call Samuel.”
Samuel Pierce had administered the family trust since I was twenty-one.
He answered immediately.
Ten minutes later, the room felt different.
Samuel had found a document.
A deed transfer request.
It had been submitted three weeks earlier.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
So did a notarization.
I had never seen it.
Rachel pushed the document toward me.
“Is that your signature?”
“It looks like it.”
“Is it?”
“No.”
My father walked to the window.
His hands were behind his back.
That was what Arthur Vance did when he was furious.
He became still.
“Who notarized it?”
Samuel answered through the speakerphone.
“Martin Hale.”
Rachel looked up sharply.
“I know that name.”
“From where?”
“He does contract work for Whitmore Development.”
The room went silent.
Grant had not simply been sleeping with another woman.
He had been preparing to steal the house beneath my feet.
Rachel requested emergency preservation orders for Grant's devices and corporate records.
By 9:30 a.m., the first formal notice reached Whitmore Development.
At 9:37, Grant called my father directly.
Arthur put him on speaker.
“You son of a bitch.”
Grant's voice thundered through the room.
My father took a sip of coffee.
“Good morning, Grant.”
“You're interfering with my company.”
“I withdrew my own guarantees.”
“You called NorthBridge.”
“No.”
“You called the banks.”
“My attorneys did.”
Grant cursed.
Then he made his mistake.
“Tell Claire if she doesn't come home, I'll make sure she leaves this marriage with nothing.”
Arthur slowly looked at me.
Rachel began writing.
“Grant.”
My father's voice became almost gentle.
“Yes?”
“You may want to stop threatening my daughter while three attorneys are listening.”
Silence.
Then the line went dead.
Rachel smiled without humor.
“That was useful.”
My father looked at the forged deed again.
“No.”
May you like
His expression became colder.
“Useful comes next.”
