Chapter 7: The Signature I Didn't Remember
For several seconds, I couldn't take my eyes off Nia's phone.
The thumbnail showed our living room. The study door stood open, and someone was positioned beside the safe.
The timestamp was unmistakable.
Friday, 4:17 p.m.
Nia had told me she'd come home early that afternoon. She'd heard Jessica speaking to a man in the study, and she'd seen enough to make her suspicious.
Now someone was sending her footage from the same day.
“What does the message mean?”” Nia asked.
I shook my head.
“I don't know yet.””
Jessica stood near the open front door, her face pale. Darius remained on the porch, watching us with an expression that suggested he knew more than he intended to reveal.
I turned toward him.
“Did you send this?””
“No.””
“Do you know who did?””
He glanced at Nia's screen.
Then he looked at Jessica.
“Apparently, someone else is getting impatient.””
Jessica stepped back into the foyer.
“Marcus, don't watch that video.””
I stared at her.
“Why?””
“Because whoever sent it is trying to manipulate you.””
“Then there shouldn't be anything to worry about.””
She reached for the phone.
I moved it out of reach.
“Stop trying to take people's phones.””
Her hand dropped.
Nia pressed play.
The video opened on the living room, brightly illuminated by the afternoon sun. The camera appeared to be positioned somewhere near the hallway. The angle was different from the footage she'd recorded the night before.
Jessica stood beside the safe.
The unknown man was not there.
Instead, Jessica was holding a thick folder.
She opened it, removed several sheets of paper, and spread them across the small table beside the safe.
Then she picked up a pen.
The camera shook slightly.
Jessica looked toward the hallway.
“Everything is ready,” she said.
A man's voice answered from somewhere offscreen.
“Did he sign it?””
Jessica hesitated.
“Not yet.””
“Then what are we waiting for?””
“He needs to believe it's something else.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
Nia paused the video.
“Dad, do you recognize that voice?””
I listened to the brief exchange again in my head.
“No.””
Darius, still standing at the door, suddenly looked uncomfortable.
Jessica noticed.
“You said you hadn't seen that recording,” she told him.
“I haven't.””
“Then why are you looking at it like that?””
“Because I recognize the folder.””
The words landed like a stone.
I stepped toward the door.
“What folder?””
Darius looked at me.
“The one she was supposed to use to get your signature.””
I stared at Jessica.
“What signature?””
She shook her head.
“Marcus, this is being taken out of context.””
“Then put it in context.””
She pressed her hands against her chest.
“I was trying to protect our future.””
“From what?””
“From a mistake you made.””
I felt anger rise through me.
“What mistake?””
She looked at the floor.
Darius answered for her.
“Ask him what he signed six months ago.””
My heart skipped.
Six months earlier, Jessica had asked me to sign a stack of documents connected to our home insurance and estate planning. She'd arranged an appointment with an adviser and told me the paperwork was routine.
I remembered sitting at the kitchen counter after a long workday, signing where she had placed small yellow tabs.
I'd barely looked at the pages.
I'd trusted her.
“You told me those were insurance documents,” I said.
Jessica's eyes filled.
“Most of them were.””
“Most?””
She covered her mouth.
Nia stepped closer.
“Dad, what did you sign?””
I searched my memory.
There had been a folder. Several pages. A pen with a blue cap. Jessica telling me not to worry because the adviser had already reviewed everything.
I had signed where she'd pointed.
And then I'd gone upstairs to take a work call.
“What did you do with those papers?”” I asked her.
Jessica shook her head.
“I didn't know it would become this.””
“That isn't an answer.””
Darius leaned against the porch railing.
“There's a document in that safe. That's what this has been about from the beginning.””
“What document?””
“The one that determines who has authority over certain assets.””
I looked at the safe.
“Which assets?””
He hesitated.
Then he said, “The house is one of them.””
The foyer seemed to tilt beneath me.
Nia gripped my arm.
“What does he mean?””
I couldn't answer.
I had purchased this house years before meeting Jessica. The deed was in my name, and I'd always believed that our marriage hadn't changed that.
I'd never agreed to hand over control of it.
I turned toward my wife.
“Did you change the ownership of my house?””
“No,” she whispered.
Darius gave a humorless laugh.
“Not directly.””
Jessica spun toward him.
“Shut up!””
He straightened.
“You told me the documents were signed.””
“They weren't complete.””
“You told me they were.””
“I said I was working on it!””
I stepped between them.
“Both of you, stop.””
They fell silent.
I looked at Jessica.
“What did I sign six months ago?””
She wiped her cheeks.
“A financial authorization.””
“For what?””
“To restructure some assets.””
“Which assets?””
She looked at me, then at Nia.
“I thought it would help us.””
“Help us do what?””
She couldn't answer.
I took the phone from Nia and replayed the video.
The folder. The papers. Jessica's pen moving across the page.
Then I noticed something I hadn't seen before.
A corner of one document bore my signature.
I recognized the sharp upward stroke at the beginning of my name. I'd signed it thousands of times.
But the date beside it wasn't six months ago.
It was Friday.
Someone had placed a document bearing my signature in front of Jessica after I'd already left for work that morning.
I paused the footage.
“That's my signature,” I said.
Nia leaned closer.
“But you weren't home on Friday.””
“No.””
Jessica stared at the screen.
Her face had gone utterly still.
I raised my eyes toward her.
“Someone used my signature.””
She began shaking her head.
“Marcus, please. You don't understand.””
“Did you forge my signature?””
“No!””
“Did you let someone else use it?””
She opened her mouth.
Then the front door creaked behind her.
Darius looked toward the driveway.
A car had just pulled up.
He stepped away from the porch railing, his expression suddenly serious.
“That's not good,” he muttered.
I looked through the open doorway.
A black sedan had stopped behind my car.
The driver's door opened.
A woman in a gray suit stepped out, carrying a leather briefcase.
Jessica saw her.
And whispered a name I had never heard before.
“Patricia.””
May you like
The woman walked toward the house without looking at Darius.
Then she stopped at the threshold, looked directly at me, and said, “Mr. Reed, I'm here because someone has submitted documents bearing your signature. And if you don't act quickly, you may lose more than your home.””
