Chương 13
“Is that illegal?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
At least he admitted it.
I wrote that down too.
Matthew looked at my notebook.
“I’m not trying to destroy him.”
“Neither am I.”
“That’s not what this looks like.”
My head snapped up.
“What does it look like?”
He immediately regretted it.
“I didn’t mean you.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I mean all of us.”
“No.”
I put the pen down.
“Do not group me into this.”
Matthew looked away.
I continued.
“You loaned him money you didn’t tell your wife about.”
“You took an ownership interest you hid from her.”
“You knew he was having an affair.”
“You knew the firm was in trouble.”
“And last night you still sat down at a birthday dinner and let me walk into that room blind.”
His face went red.
“I was ashamed.”
“Good.”
Leah looked at me.
I did not care.
Matthew swallowed.
“I kept thinking he was going to fix it.”
“There is that word again.”
“What?”
“Fix.”
I leaned back.
“Everybody keeps talking about Evan like he’s a broken appliance.”
Matthew’s jaw tightened.
“He’s my brother.”
“And I was his wife.”
Silence settled between us.
Then Matthew reached inside his coat.
He took out a folded envelope.
“I found this in his office three days ago.”
My pulse changed.
He slid it across the table.
I did not touch it.
“What is it?”
“A notice from the landlord.”
“The office landlord?”
He nodded.
“Three months behind.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-seven thousand.”
I looked at him.
“That isn’t two-fifty.”
“No.”
“Then what am I missing?”
Matthew stared at the envelope.
“Evan has another loan.”
The bakery noise seemed to recede.
“What loan?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“How do you know it exists?”
“I saw the automatic withdrawals.”
“From what account?”
“The secondary one.”
The same account that had received the eighteen-five.
My fingers went cold.
“How much?”
“Six thousand a month.”
“For how long?”
“At least five months.”
Leah said quietly, “That’s thirty.”
Matthew nodded.
“The balance could be a lot more.”
“Secured by what?”
“I don’t know.”
Then he looked directly at me for the first time since sitting down.
“But last week I heard Evan tell the lender that the house had plenty of equity.”
I stopped breathing for one second.
“Our house?”
Matthew’s face answered before his mouth did.
“Yes.”
I picked up my phone.
Not to call Evan.
Not to call Elaine.
I called Rebecca.
She answered on the first transfer.
“What happened?”
I looked through the bakery window at people crossing the wet sidewalk under umbrellas.
“There may be a loan secured by my house that I know nothing about.”
Rebecca’s voice changed.
Only slightly.
Enough.
“Do not go home yet.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because before you do anything else, we are going to find out whether that lien exists.”
Rebecca put me on hold for less than a minute.
When she came back, she had another attorney from her firm on the line.
His name was Daniel Cho, and he handled real estate and commercial lending.
He asked for the property address, the county, our names as they appeared on the deed, and whether I had signed anything involving a home equity line in the last year.
“No.”
“Any refinance?”
“No.”
“Any second mortgage?”
“No.”
“Any notarized documents?”
“No.”
He said, “All right.”
Then he gave me the sentence I needed.
“Do not assume there is a valid lien until we confirm one.”
Rebecca told me to stay where I was.
Twenty minutes later, Daniel called back.
“There is a recently recorded mortgage instrument.”
The bakery seemed to tilt.
“In whose name?”
“Both yours and your husband’s.”
“I didn’t sign it.”
“I understand.”
He paused.
“The recording itself does not prove you personally executed it.”
“What does?”
“The underlying documents.”
“Can you get them?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca cut in.
“We already requested them.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
“How much?”
Daniel said, “The recorded amount is one hundred fifty thousand.”
Leah closed her eyes.
Matthew went white.
I heard myself say, “That’s more than the house equity he could safely use.”
Daniel answered carefully.
“That depends on valuation and existing debt.”
Rebecca said, “Natalie, do not solve the entire case in this bakery.”
I almost laughed.
It came out as air.
Matthew whispered, “I didn’t know.”
I looked at him.
“I believe you.”
That seemed to hurt him.
By four that afternoon, we were back in Rebecca’s office.
Daniel had obtained a copy of the mortgage package from the lender’s counsel.
My signature appeared on three documents.
One was notarized.
I stared at the notary block.
“I wasn’t there.”
Daniel nodded.
“That matters.”
“Who notarized it?”
He pointed to the name.
I did not recognize it.
Rebecca asked, “Do you know anyone named Cynthia Vale?”
“No.”
Daniel said, “She appears to be a commissioned notary.”
“Appears?”
“We are verifying status and recordkeeping.”
I looked at the signature again.
It was a good imitation.
Not perfect.
Good enough to make my stomach turn.
The N in Natalie curved wrong.
I always looped the second stroke.
This one was flat.
“How did he think this would work?”
Rebecca said, “We don’t know that he did it.”
I looked at her.
She did not blink.
“Not yet.”
The discipline in those two words steadied me.
At 4:31, Evan texted.
Can we please stop making this adversarial?
I showed Rebecca.
She said, “Do not respond.”
At 4:36, another message arrived.
I can explain the financing.
Rebecca looked at Daniel.
Daniel looked at me.
“Now,” Rebecca said, “you may respond.”
She dictated nothing.
She only said, “Keep it simple.”
I typed.
Please communicate through my attorney regarding finances.
Evan replied almost immediately.
You hired a lawyer?
I stared at the screen.
Then another message came.
Natalie, what are you doing?
Leah, from the corner, muttered, “The question of the century.”
Rebecca ignored her.
I handed over contact information and stopped responding.
May you like
The next week did not feel dramatic.
That surprised me.
