Chapter 13 - THE PLAN THAT STARTED A YEAR AGO
Andrew finally admitted part of the truth.
Not all of it.
People like Andrew rarely confessed because they suddenly respected honesty.
They confessed because evidence had removed better options.
Lorraine had spent years telling him that the house should belong to him.
According to Andrew, she called my inheritance “family money.”
She believed marriage had converted everything I owned into something her son deserved.
When Andrew’s personal debts increased, Lorraine suggested refinancing.
When I showed no interest, she suggested something else.
“Wear her down.”
Those were Andrew’s words.
I stared at him across the kitchen.
“She told you to pressure me?”
“Yes.”
“And you listened?”
“At first, I thought it made sense.”
“At first?”
He looked ashamed.
“Then Brooke happened.”
“Brooke did not happen.”
My voice sharpened.
“You chose Brooke.”
He nodded.
I continued.
“And then you decided my house could finance your new life.”
“I never intended to leave you with nothing.”
The absurdity almost made me laugh.
“How generous.”
“I thought you’d keep your inheritance accounts.”
“After you drained what you could through fake invoices?”
He flinched.
“I was going to repay that.”
“With the refinance money?”
He looked down.
There it was.
The circular plan.
Take my money.
Use my property to borrow more.
Use the borrowed money to cover what he had already taken.
Then use the remainder to build a life with Brooke.
Andrew rubbed his forehead.
“It got bigger than I expected.”
“Fraud usually does.”
He looked at me sharply.
“Do you want me arrested?”
I thought about the question.
“I want you accountable.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one you’re getting.”
Then Andrew told me something Rachel had not yet discovered.
Gregory Sloan had never been hired as a divorce attorney.
Andrew had hired him eleven months earlier.
Originally, Gregory was supposed to help Andrew find a legal path to obtain an ownership interest in the house.
When that failed, Andrew started exploring refinance options.
I felt my skin go cold.
“So the lawyer knew about the fake signature?”
“No.”
“Does he know about the fake invoices?”
“No.”
“Does he know about Brooke?”
Andrew closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
I almost pitied Gregory Sloan.
Almost.
My phone rang.
Rachel.
Her voice was urgent.
“Claire, did Andrew ever have power of attorney for you?”
“No.”
“Are you absolutely certain?”
“Yes.”
“Then we found something worse.”
A document had been filed with one of the lenders claiming Andrew had limited authority to sign financial paperwork on my behalf.
May you like
The document bore my signature.
And this time, it appeared to have been notarized.
