Chapter 6 - My Signature
The loan documents arrived by secure email before sunset.
I knew the signature was fake before I enlarged it.
Whoever had copied my name had made one mistake.
I never crossed the second “t” in Bennett separately.
I had connected the stroke since college.
The signature on the home-equity documents looked almost perfect.
Almost.
Laura leaned over my shoulder.
“Who had access to your signature?”
“My husband.”
“Anyone else?”
“His mother.”
Rachel frowned.
“How?”
“Tax returns.”
Insurance forms.
School paperwork.
Birthday cards.
There were probably fifty examples of my signature inside the house I had just left.
Then I reached the notarization page.
The notary’s name was Teresa Vaughn.
I recognized it.
Sophie’s mother.
Evan’s aunt.
I called Sophie immediately.
She answered quietly.
“What happened?”
“Is your mother a notary?”
Silence.
“Sophie?”
“Yes.”
“Did she notarize documents for Evan four months ago?”
“I don’t know.”
I sent her a screenshot.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then Sophie whispered, “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“My mom wasn’t here that week.”
My pulse jumped.
“Where was she?”
“Arizona.”
“Are you sure?”
“She was at my sister’s house for almost two weeks.”
I looked at Laura.
She was writing quickly.
“Sophie, could she have notarized something before leaving?”
“The date says April seventeenth.”
“She was in Phoenix.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Flights.”
“Photos.”
“My sister’s doorbell camera if we have to.”
Laura silently mouthed, Good.
Then Sophie added, “Claire, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Mom lost her notary stamp last year.”
My entire body went cold.
“Lost?”
“She thought she misplaced it during the move.”
“Did she report it?”
“I don’t know.”
Laura motioned for me to put the call on speaker.
Sophie continued.
“Aunt Diane helped Mom move.”
Nobody spoke.
The implication hung over the conference table.
A missing notary stamp.
A forged signature.
A secret $185,000 credit line.
A custody affidavit prepared before the birthday incident.
And nearly every trail led back to the same woman who had slapped my daughter.
Laura asked, “Sophie, do you know anything about Bennett Holdings?”
This time, Sophie answered immediately.
“Yes.”
My heart kicked.
“What is it?”
“Aunt Diane’s company.”
“For what?”
“I thought it owned the banquet hall.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Not anymore.”
“What happened?”
There was a long pause.
“Claire, the banquet hall has been in trouble for almost a year.”
“How much trouble?”
“My dad said the lender was threatening foreclosure.”
I looked at the transfer history on my phone.
The $185,000 line.
The missing savings.
The cashier’s check.
Laura asked the question I was afraid to ask.
“Sophie, was Evan helping Diane cover the debt?”
“I think so.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Sophie said, “But last Christmas I heard Aunt Diane tell him that once the house was refinanced, everything would be fixed.”
My house.
The home I had bought with Evan.
The home where I had paid more than half the down payment.
They had turned it into a rescue fund for Diane without telling me.
And now they were trying to make me look unstable before I discovered it.
Laura closed the laptop.
“This is no longer just a divorce.”
I knew.
May you like
It was fraud.
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