Chương 11
“Stop making ignorance sound like virtue.”
He flinched.
“I'm not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I said I signed the loan papers.”
“You said you signed one disclosure.”
“There were more.”
The words came out before he could stop them.
I stared at him.
“How many?”
He rubbed his hands over his shorts.
“I don't remember.”
“Try.”
“Five.”
“Five?”
“Maybe six.”
“And what did they say?”
“Some were disclosures.”
“Some.”
“One was authorization to verify income.”
“Whose income?”
“Ours.”
“What income did you report?”
“My salary.”
“And Lauren's?”
He looked away.
“What did she put?”
“She said eighty-five.”
“Eighty-five thousand?”
“Yes.”
“Does she earn eighty-five thousand dollars?”
“No.”
“How much does she earn?”
“Last year maybe twenty-two.”
My mouth went dry again.
“Marcus.”
“I didn't fill it out.”
“You signed it.”
“I know.”
That word was beginning to disgust me.
I know.
He knew after.
He knew eventually.
He knew enough to be ashamed but never enough to stop.
Deputy Reed came back toward us.
“Mrs. Wells, we found copies of tax records that appear to belong to you.”
“What tax records?”
“Property tax statements, two pages from what looks like a federal return, and a Social Security benefits statement.”
I stared at him.
“Those were in my locked drawer.”
“That is consistent with where Mr. Wells says they were stored.”
Marcus looked at me.
“I never went through that drawer.”
“Don't.”
“I didn't.”
“Not now.”
My hands began shaking again.
I folded my arms so nobody could see.
Reed continued.
“We also found what appears to be a photocopy of your passport.”
For a second I misunderstood him.
“You found the passport?”
“Copy.”
“Where is the original?”
“We haven't located it.”
I looked toward the house.
“Search Lauren's things.”
Reed's expression changed slightly.
“We're not conducting a general search of her personal belongings based solely on your request.”
“She took my passport.”
“We don't know that yet.”
“It was locked in the desk.”
“We know it is not currently in the location you identified.”
“And she had access.”
“That is relevant.”
“She forged my signature.”
“That is being investigated.”
“Why is everything being investigated after I already know what happened?”
“Because knowing and proving are different jobs.”
I hated him for being right.
Only for a second.
Then I hated myself for wanting him to skip the part that protected everyone, including me, from accusation becoming fact.
I looked at Marcus.
“Did Lauren ever ask about my passport?”
He shook his head.
“Not that I remember.”
“Did she ask when it expired?”
“No.”
“Did she ever use my desk?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Stop saying you don't know.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“I am.”
His voice cracked again.
A couple walking toward the beach slowed as they passed the sheriff's vehicles.
The woman glanced at us.
I recognized her from three houses down but could not remember her name.
She recognized me.
Her eyes moved from my face to Marcus and then quickly away.
Public humiliation has very little ceremony.
It happens in glances.
Marcus noticed too.
He lowered his voice.
“Can we go inside?”
“Not yet,” Reed said.
Marcus swore under his breath.
Deputy Reed looked at him.
“Let's keep this calm.”
“I'm calm.”
“You're raising your voice.”
“My family is falling apart in my mother's driveway.”
Reed nodded.
“That can make people loud.”
The lack of confrontation disarmed him.
Marcus looked away.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Reed glanced at the screen.
“Answer if you want.”
I did.
“Hello?”
A woman said, “May I speak with Patricia Wells?”
“This is Patricia.”
“My name is Sandra Keene.”
The name meant nothing.
“I am the office manager at Coastal Closing Support.”
Every muscle in my back tightened.
I looked at Reed and mouthed Coastal.
He stepped closer.
Sandra continued.
“Your attorney gave permission for me to contact you directly, and she asked me to tell you Detective Harmon may also be reaching out.”
“Detective?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Why?”
“Because we pulled the original intake file.”
I put the phone on speaker.
“Deputy Reed is here.”
He identified himself.
Sandra's tone became more formal.
“We have preserved the digital file and access logs.”
Reed took out his notebook.
“Good.”
“What did you find?” I asked.
Sandra hesitated.
“Mrs. Wells, I want to be careful.”
“So does everybody.”
“I understand.”
“No, I'm sorry.”
I pressed my lips together.
“Please continue.”
“The online order was placed June seventeenth at 9:42 p.m.”
“From where?”
“We have an IP address, but I'm not qualified to interpret location without our IT provider or law enforcement.”
“Whose email?”
“The account using your name.”
“What documents were uploaded?”
Another pause.
“A copy of your driver's license.”
My stomach dropped.
“A property tax bill.”
Reed wrote quickly.
“And a draft deed questionnaire.”
“What did the questionnaire say?”
“Ownership transfer from Patricia Wells to Marcus Wells and Lauren Wells.”
Marcus stood completely still.
Sandra continued.
“The reason entered was estate planning.”
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“Estate planning.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I'm not dead.”
“I understand.”
“No, apparently I'm planning ahead.”
Marcus rubbed his face.
Reed asked, “Who uploaded the executed deed?”
Sandra answered, “The same client portal.”
“When?”
“June nineteenth at 8:14 a.m.”
“What about notarization?”
“We do not provide remote online notarization ourselves.”
“Then why was Darlene Price involved?”
Another silence.
Sandra sounded uncomfortable now.
“Darlene is an independent contractor who rents desk space from us two days a week.”
“Does she notarize client documents?”
“Sometimes, but not as part of our formal closing service.”
“Was she scheduled June eighteenth?”
“Yes.”
“Did your logs show her accessing this file?”
“I can't discuss employee access records beyond what our counsel permits.”
Reed nodded.
“Preserve everything.”
“We have.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“Did Lauren come there yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“What did she want?”
“She requested copies of the file.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said there had been a family misunderstanding.”
I looked at Marcus.
His eyes closed.
May you like
Sandra continued.
“She represented herself as your daughter.”
