Chương 10
“That is what the document purports to do.”
“You can say forged, Marcus.”
“I can say you deny signing it.”
“I don’t deny signing it.”
My voice rose.
“I did not sign it.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you talking like I might have forgotten?”
“I’m not.”
“It sounds like you are.”
He waited.
My anger had nowhere sensible to go, so it landed on the one person helping me.
I knew that even while I was doing it.
That did not stop me.
“I was sitting with you at the time.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me.”
“Yes.”
“Then stop speaking to me like I’m a witness you don’t trust.”
A long silence followed.
When Marcus spoke again, his voice was quiet.
“You are a witness.”
I swallowed.
“And because I trust you, I am making sure nobody can later say I treated your memory as evidence when better evidence existed.”
I stared at the floor.
The baby shifted beneath my ribs.
“I’m sorry.”
“Good.”
That almost made me laugh.
“You could pretend to be gracious.”
“I could, but you would know I was pretending.”
He was right.
“What happens to the meeting?”
“I have advised the lender’s representative that your authorization is disputed and that no reliance should be placed on the document pending review.”
“Will they stop?”
“I expect they will pause.”
“Expect?”
“Claire.”
“Right.”
He continued.
“I also notified outside business counsel that no person has authority to pledge Mercer Ridge assets contrary to the company’s governing documents.”
“Can Caleb still sign something tonight?”
“He can sign his name to anything he wants.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“I know.”
His tone softened.
“He cannot create authority he does not have simply by writing it on paper.”
For the first time that evening, I breathed normally.
Then my phone vibrated against my palm.
Caleb was calling.
Marcus heard the vibration.
“Is that him?”
“Yes.”
“Do not answer.”
I looked at Caleb’s name.
“He knows.”
“Probably.”
The call ended.
Three seconds later, it started again.
“He’s going to keep calling.”
“Let him.”
“I want to hear what he says.”
“I understand.”
“Then why shouldn’t I?”
“Because right now he may be trying to learn what you know.”
That stopped me.
The ringing stopped too.
A text appeared.
PLEASE ANSWER.
Then another.
THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.
I stared at the words.
I sent Marcus a screenshot.
He muttered something that sounded suspiciously unlike legal language.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You swore.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I am seventy-one years old and entitled to private vocabulary.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
Then Caleb sent a third message.
EVAN SAYS THE DOCUMENT WAS GENERATED FROM A PRIOR AUTHORIZATION TEMPLATE.
I read it twice.
“Marcus.”
“I see it.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because I never authorized anything involving Ridgepoint.”
“That does not make the explanation impossible.”
“It makes it ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous things happen.”
“So they copied my signature from something else.”
“Possibly.”
I hated that word less when it was pointing toward evidence.
“What prior document would even have an electronic signature?”
“Plenty.”
I went through them in my head.
Insurance renewals.
Bank resolutions.
Vendor agreements.
A vehicle purchase.
The subcontractor settlement Evan had handled.
My stomach tightened.
“Evan had signed documents from the old dispute.”
“Yes.”
“With my electronic signature.”
“Likely.”
“And now he’s telling Caleb the Ridgepoint document came from a template.”
Marcus did not answer immediately.
“That explanation needs examination.”
“Examination?”
“It needs to be tested against the file history.”
“Because if the signature image was copied—”
“Do not finish the forensic analysis yourself.”
I leaned back against the staircase.
“I hate when you ruin my conclusions.”
“I ruin certainty.”
“Same thing tonight.”
Caleb called again.
This time he left a voicemail.
I did not listen to it.
Marcus told me to forward it without opening it if my phone allowed.
I did.
Then I asked, “Should I leave the house?”
The question came out before I knew I was going to ask it.
Marcus became still on the line.
“Do you feel unsafe?”
“No.”
“Has Caleb threatened you?”
“No.”
“Has he ever physically intimidated you?”
I thought about it.
“No.”
“Then why are you asking?”
I looked toward the front door.
“He’s coming home tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“And he knows the locks were changed.”
“Yes.”
“And now he knows the financing was stopped.”
“Probably.”
I rubbed my fingers over the edge of the stair.
“I don’t know who he is when he loses something he thinks belongs to him.”
Marcus did not answer quickly.
That scared me more than reassurance would have.
“Do you have somewhere you can stay tonight?”
“Yes.”
The answer was a lie again.
He heard it.
“Claire.”
“I can get a hotel.”
“At eight months pregnant, with your company in crisis and your husband returning tomorrow?”
“I’ve done dumber things.”
“That is not the standard.”
I stood slowly.
“I don’t want to run out of my own house.”
“Then don’t.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That you not be alone.”
I looked at the dark windows.
Natalie’s voice from the night before came back to me.
You should not be alone.
“I can call someone.”
“Call someone now.”
“Marcus.”
“Now.”
I called Natalie after we hung up.
She answered on the first ring.
“What happened?”
I told her about the signature.
She did not swear this time.
That was how I knew she was frightened.
“I’m getting on a plane.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“You’re with your dad.”
“My brother can stay with him.”
“No.”
“Stop saying no because it gives you something to control.”
The accuracy of that made me angry.
“You don’t get to psychoanalyze me from Oregon.”
“I’m not psychoanalyzing you.”
“You literally just told me why I’m saying something.”
“Fine.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Then here is the practical version.”
I waited.
“You are pregnant, stressed, and dealing with people who apparently thought using your signature was a business strategy.”
“That hasn’t been proven.”
“Oh, good, Marcus has infected you.”
May you like
I almost laughed.
She continued.
