Chương 4
“Arthur would never sign that.”
“I didn’t say Arthur signed it.”
I stopped breathing for half a second.
“Whose name was on it?”
“Yours.”
I looked back at Emma.
She had abandoned the oatmeal and was watching me.
“I never signed anything.”
“I believe you.”
“Do you have the letter?”
“My legal department does.”
“Send it to Arthur Sterling.”
“I already left him a message.”
That irritated me before I could stop it.
“You contacted my attorney?”
“I contacted the attorney whose firm name appears on the document.”
He waited.
“If the letter is legitimate, I’ve overreacted.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then I have a problem.”
“So do I.”
“Yes.”
There was a rustle on his end.
“Clara, there’s more.”
Of course there was.
“There always is.”
Thomas almost laughed, but the sound disappeared quickly.
“Mark requested an advance against preliminary work eight weeks ago.”
“How much?”
“One hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
I sat down.
The townhouse couch made a soft squeak beneath me.
“Did he get it?”
“Yes.”
“Where did it go?”
“I don’t know.”
“You paid his firm.”
“We paid an account listed on the invoice.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
He sounded tired now.
“I don’t know where it went after that.”
Mark’s company was not poor.
It was also not healthy.
I had seen enough statements six months earlier to know that cash flow had become a recurring problem.
Mark blamed slow-paying clients.
Arthur had called the pattern concerning.
At the time, I had defended my husband.
I suddenly hated that memory.
“Send everything you have.”
“Not to me.”
“To Arthur.”
“Yes.”
“And Thomas?”
“Yes?”
“Last night, when Mark told everyone I was unstable, what did you do?”
The silence answered before he did.
“Nothing.”
I looked at the kitchen doorway.
Emma had gone back to her oatmeal.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Clara—”
I ended the call.
Arthur arrived forty minutes later carrying coffee, bagels, and a legal pad that looked older than Lily.
He took one look at Emma and stopped in the entryway.
“Hello, kiddo.”
Emma touched her cheek unconsciously.
“Hi.”
Arthur was seventy-one and built like a narrow coat rack.
He had known me since I was five.
He never talked to children as though they were stupid.
“Your mother says you had a terrible birthday.”
Emma shrugged.
“The cake was good before Grandma killed it.”
Arthur nodded solemnly.
“An important distinction.”
That earned him a smile.
He put the bagels on the counter and asked if he could speak to me privately.
We went into the living room.
“I spoke with Vance.”
“So did I.”
“He sent the documents.”
“And?”
Arthur removed his glasses and cleaned them with the corner of his tie.
He only did that when angry.
“The letter is fabricated.”
The words should have shocked me.
Instead, I felt strangely still.
“My signature?”
“A scanned version of it.”
“From what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Can Mark access trust documents?”
“Not directly.”
“Could he have found my signature?”
“Of course.”
He put his glasses back on.
“You’ve signed hundreds of things during twelve years of marriage.”
“What does the letter claim?”
“That you, as beneficiary and authorized representative of a family investment entity, approved a limited guarantee tied to Harbor Point.”
“I’m not an authorized representative.”
“I know.”
“Wouldn’t Vance’s lawyers know?”
“They should have asked harder questions.”
Arthur’s mouth tightened.
“They relied on a document that looked credible and on a long-standing commercial relationship with Mark.”
“So he forged my signature and they handed him money.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“I’m beginning to hate that sentence.”
“You’re going to hear it often.”
He sat across from me.
“The good news is that the guarantee itself is almost certainly unenforceable against the trust.”
“And the bad?”
“Someone created a false document using your identity to induce a business transaction.”
“Say Mark.”
I stared at him.
“You think somebody else forged my signature for his company?”
“I think certainty before evidence is how people ruin good cases.”
I folded my arms.
“You always sound like a courthouse.”
“That’s why your grandfather paid me.”
A laugh escaped me despite everything.
Arthur glanced toward the kitchen.
Then his expression changed.
“There’s another problem.”
“What?”
“The advance from Vance did not go into Mercer Architectural’s normal operating account.”
“Where did it go?”
“A separate account.”
“Mark’s?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Can we find out?”
“Probably, but not because I ask nicely.”
My phone buzzed on the table.
Mark.
I let it ring.
Arthur watched the screen.
“Has he called the girls?”
“No.”
The answer landed between us.
Mark had called me twenty-three times.
He had not called Emma once.
Arthur looked away first.
“What happens with Diane?”
I asked.
“The police report goes forward.”
“Is she being arrested?”
“I can’t promise that.”
The source version of my fantasy had deputies arriving like cavalry.
Reality, apparently, preferred forms.
Arthur continued.
“The officer will refer the matter, and depending on local procedure, evidence, and prosecutorial review, there may be charges.”
“And the house?”
“We seek temporary exclusive use through the family court process.”
“How temporary?”
“Temporary means temporary.”
“Arthur.”
“I’m not going to invent a timeline to make you feel better.”
I stood and began pacing.
“So Mark stays in my grandfather’s house while Emma sleeps in a stranger’s old rental bed.”
“For now.”
“That is unbelievable.”
“It’s also safer than you marching in there and giving his lawyer material to use against you.”
“He doesn’t have a lawyer.”
Arthur gave me a look.
“He will.”
My phone rang again.
This time the screen showed Priya Desai.
I answered.
“Hi.”
“Clara.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Are you somewhere Mark can’t hear?”
“Yes.”
“I need to tell you something.”
Arthur immediately picked up his legal pad.
“What?”
“I’m at the office.”
She paused.
“Mark came in twenty minutes ago.”
“That seems early for him.”
“He didn’t come to work.”
“What did he come for?”
May you like
“I think he’s destroying files.”
Arthur was already standing.
