Chương 11
“I didn’t sign much.”
“Any personal resolutions, acknowledgments, guarantee renewals, asset statements.”
I stared at the toast.
“There was a net worth statement last year.”
“When?”
“March, maybe.”
“What was it for?”
“He said the lender needed updated information because the credit line was being renewed.”
“Did you sign it electronically?”
“No.”
“Paper?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a copy?”
“I might.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
“That does not help us today.”
“I scanned some tax documents around then.”
“Check your cloud storage.”
I opened my laptop at Tessa’s table.
It took three password attempts because my hands kept moving faster than my memory.
Folders appeared.
Taxes.
Insurance.
Consulting.
House.
I searched Richard’s name.
Too many results.
I searched “net worth.”
Three files.
The first was mine.
The second belonged to my business.
The third was a PDF named RLC_PFS_2025.
My stomach tightened.
“I found something.”
“Open it.”
I did.
The first page carried the lender’s logo.
The second page listed Richard’s personal assets.
His truck.
Retirement account.
An ownership interest in Cole Family Catering.
Then a line that made me stop.
Private holding company.
Estimated value: $690,000.
“Naomi.”
“What?”
“He disclosed a holding company.”
“Name?”
“It doesn’t say.”
“Value?”
“Six hundred ninety thousand.”
She exhaled slowly.
“Send it.”
I did.
“What else?”
“Nothing obvious.”
“Look at liabilities.”
I scrolled.
There was a loan listed beside the holding company.
Balance: $215,000.
Lender: Commonwealth Commercial.
Naomi said nothing for several seconds after I read it aloud.
“What?”
“I know that bank.”
“Is that bad?”
“It is not the same bank financing Cole Family Catering.”
“So?”
“So Richard may have borrowed against the holding company separately.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
I leaned back.
Tessa placed a piece of toast directly into my hand.
I looked at her.
“Eat while unraveling financial crime.”
“We do not know it is financial crime.”
“Eat while unraveling suspicious accounting.”
“Better.”
I took a bite.
It was burned at one edge.
I ate it anyway.
Naomi said, “Check signatures.”
I scrolled to the end.
Richard’s signature appeared.
Below it was mine.
I froze.
“What?”
“My signature is on it.”
“Did you sign this document?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Look carefully.”
I enlarged the page.
The signature looked like mine.
The sloping C.
The way the final e in Claire disappeared into the line.
But something was wrong.
I always added the date directly beneath my name if a form did not automatically populate it.
The date beside this signature was typed.
“I don’t think I signed this.”
“Do not say that unless you are sure.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Good.”
The word stung, but she continued.
“Check the metadata.”
I right-clicked the file.
Created March 18.
Scanned March 22.
Modified March 22.
“I scanned it four days later.”
“That suggests you had possession.”
“Or at least the papers were in the house.”
“Yes.”
I searched my memory.
March.
Richard’s birthday.
Madison came over with a cake from a bakery because she said homemade frosting was emotionally unstable.
We had eaten on the back deck because it was warm.
The next morning Richard left a pile of documents near my printer.
“Sign these when you get a chance,” he had said.
I remembered being irritated because I was late for a client call.
I remembered signing two pages without reading every line.
The memory arrived with the sharp embarrassment of recognition.
“I might have signed it.”
Naomi’s voice softened slightly.
“That is why we do not accuse before checking.”
“I hate when you’re right.”
“You picked the wrong profession for your best friend.”
Tessa looked offended.
“I thought I was the best friend.”
I covered the phone.
“You’re the non-billable best friend.”
She accepted that.
Naomi asked, “Did Richard give you a complete copy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does your scan include every page?”
I checked the page numbers.
One of seven.
Two of seven.
Three.
Four.
Then six.
My pulse jumped.
“Page five is missing.”
“What is on page five according to the footer headings?”
I scrolled between pages four and six.
Page four ended with personal assets.
Page six began with certifications.
“There’s a section missing between assets and certifications.”
“Liabilities or contingent interests, probably.”
“Meaning?”
“Potentially loans, ownership interests, guarantees, pledged assets.”
I stopped chewing.
“Could the holding company details be there?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the missing page as if the blankness itself accused me.
“Richard gave me an incomplete copy.”
“Maybe.”
“Naomi.”
“Maybe.”
I shut the laptop harder than necessary.
Tessa took the coffee mug away before I knocked it over.
“I am going home.”
“No.”
Naomi and Tessa said it at the same time.
I looked between the phone and Tessa.
“I need the originals.”
“You need to stay where you are until we know where Richard is,” Naomi said.
“He is not dangerous.”
Tessa raised an eyebrow.
“I did not say violent.”
Naomi’s voice remained even.
“A person does not need to be violent to remove records, alter access, pressure witnesses, or create a scene you cannot control.”
“This is my house.”
“Yes.”
“My records.”
“Yes.”
“My marriage.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
The last answer almost undid me.
I looked down.
The borrowed sweater sleeves covered half my hands.
“My mother’s jewelry is there.”
Tessa’s expression changed.
Naomi said, “Then we make a list of personal items you need and arrange retrieval properly.”
“I don’t want a police escort.”
“I did not say police.”
“Good.”
“I said properly.”
I hated the word.
It sounded like surrender dressed in sensible shoes.
My phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unfamiliar Virginia number.
“Someone’s calling.”
“Let it go to voicemail.”
I watched it ring.
The number called again immediately.
“Twice.”
“Answer on speaker if you are comfortable, but do not discuss financial details.”
I accepted.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Cole?”
A man’s voice.
“Yes.”
“This is Aaron Bell with Commonwealth Commercial Bank.”
I looked at Tessa.
Naomi said quietly, “I’m here.”
Mr. Bell continued.
May you like
“I’m trying to reach Richard Cole concerning a loan associated with R. Cole Holdings.”
Every muscle in my shoulders tightened.
