Chapter 3: The Signature That Wasn’t Hers
I stepped between Richard and the table.
He stopped with one hand still reaching toward the envelope.
“Move,” he said.
“No.”
Mom slid the first document toward Chloe.
“Did Richard show you this?”
Chloe stared at it.
“That’s the agreement for the apartment.”
“It was paid for with company money,” Mom said.
“Money from a business I own with him.”
Richard gave a short laugh.
“You did the bookkeeping.
Don’t pretend you ran the company.”
“I invested my inheritance when no bank would lend to you,” Mom replied.
“My name is on half the shares.”
“Half,” he said.
“Not all.”
Chloe lowered herself into a chair.
“You told me the company was yours.”
“It is mine,” Richard snapped.
“Patricia signs whatever I put in front of her.”
It was the first time anyone had used Mom’s name that morning.
Patricia appeared at the top of every page inside the envelope, but the signature beneath it looked wrong.
Mom placed a second paper beside the first.
“Is that what you told the bank?”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
I leaned over the document.
It was an application for a line of credit secured against the house.
The amount was $240,000.
“Mom, did you sign this?”
“No.”
Richard pointed at her name.
“It’s right there.”
“That isn’t my signature.”
Chloe pushed her suitcase away from her chair.
“You said the loan came from selling your cabin.”
“There is no cabin,” Mom said.
“Stop talking to her,” Richard ordered.
Chloe looked up at him.
“You promised me a house, Richard.
You promised me a position at the company.
Where did that money really come from?”
“You knew I was married.”
“You told me your marriage had been over for two years.”
“And that made everything acceptable?”
“No,” Chloe said.
“But it means you lied to both of us.”
Richard reached for his phone.
Mom put another page on the table.
“Before you call anyone, read the last transfer.”
His eyes found the figure: $86,000 sent to C&C Consulting.
“What is C&C?” I asked.
Chloe’s hand covered her mouth.
“Those are my initials.”
Richard shoved the paper aside.
“It was legitimate consulting.”
“I work at a dental office,” Chloe said.
“I have never consulted for your company.”
“You signed the invoices.”
“You said they were lease papers.”
Mom took a photograph from the envelope and placed it in front of her.
“Is this your signature?”
Chloe examined it, then shook her head.
“No.
He filled out the forms and told me where to sign.”
Richard picked up the two suitcases and carried them toward the front door.
“Those are yours,” Mom said.
“Not mine.”
He dropped them again.
“You’re not throwing me out of my own house.”
“I’m asking you to leave while my attorney reviews these documents.”
“Your attorney?” His smile returned.
“You think a few messages give you control of my company and my home?”
Mom’s fingers trembled once against the envelope.
“Our company.
Our home.”
Richard stepped closer to her.
“Call this off, Patricia.
I’ll end things with Chloe, and we’ll forget this foolish performance.”
Chloe stood.
“You don’t get to offer me up like a canceled golf game.”
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“No,” Mom said.
“You were trying to make a deal because you’re frightened.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“Be careful.
If you challenge me, I’ll make sure you leave with nothing.”
The doorbell rang again.
A silver-haired woman holding a leather briefcase waited outside.
“I’m Harriet Cole,” she said as she entered.
“Patricia’s attorney.”
Richard stared at Mom.
“You arranged all this overnight?”
Harriet set her briefcase beside the bank papers.
“Your wife called me two months ago.”
The room went still.
“Two months?” I asked.
Mom looked at me.
“Money had been disappearing.
I didn’t know why.”
Harriet removed a certified copy of the loan application.
“The bank provided this yesterday.
Patricia supposedly signed it before a notary on March 14.”
“I did not,” Mom said.
Chloe gripped the edge of the table.
“March 14?”
Richard turned sharply toward her.
“Don’t.”
“You were with me that day,” Chloe whispered.
“Three hundred miles away.”
Harriet placed a hotel receipt beside the application.
Then she pointed to the witness line beneath Mom’s forged signature.
The witness was my brother, Daniel.
