Chapter 6 - The Signature of a Dead Woman
The forgery was almost perfect.
Almost.
My mother signed legal documents in blue-black fountain pen.
The amendment had been signed with gel ink.
Samuel noticed because Samuel noticed everything.
The notary was named Patricia Hale.
She had retired two years earlier.
We found her in Florida.
She denied notarizing the document.
Then she saw the signature.
Her face changed.
“That’s my seal.”
“Were you in New York on March twenty-first?” I asked.
“No.”
“Who had access to your seal?”
“My firm.”
“What firm?”
“Hale, Mercer & Cole.”
Ethan’s family law firm.
He looked as if someone had punched him when I told him.
“I didn’t know.”
“Your name is on the door.”
“My grandfather’s name.”
“Convenient.”
He didn’t argue.
Patricia gave us the names of three people who could access archived seals.
One was dead.
One moved to Australia.
The third was Brooke Mercer’s father.
Richard Mercer.
Brooke’s father had represented Cole Meridian for twenty-seven years.
He also served as outside counsel to Victor Whitmore.
The connection was no longer subtle.
I called Brooke.
She didn’t answer.
I sent one message.
I know about your father.
She replied in twelve seconds.
Please don’t call him.
I called her instead.
She answered crying.
“Mary.”
“Where are you?”
“At my apartment.”
“Stay there.”
“Don’t bring Ethan.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Brooke opened the door wearing sweatpants.
The twelve-carat ring I gave her was gone.
“Where’s the ring?”
“I sent it back.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“I couldn’t look at it.”
I entered.
“Your father forged my mother’s signature.”
Brooke looked sick.
“I know.”
The betrayal did not surprise me anymore.
“What exactly do you know?”
“Not everything.”
“Start anyway.”
Her father had asked her to create Mercer Strategy.
He funded it.
Then Cole Meridian began hiring the company for vague consulting assignments.
Brooke believed it was nepotism.
She didn’t ask questions.
Later, Ethan approached her.
“When?”
“Twenty-one months ago.”
“The affair began eight months ago.”
“Yes.”
“What happened before that?”
“He wanted invoices.”
“For what?”
“To move money.”
“Did you help him?”
“At first I thought it was legitimate.”
“And later?”
She looked down.
“I knew it wasn’t.”
“How much did you take?”
“Personally?”
“Yes.”
“Eight hundred thousand.”
My best friend had stolen nearly a million dollars.
“How much went through the company?”
“Fourteen million.”
“Where?”
“Different accounts.”
“Whose?”
“Some Ethan’s.”
“Some?”
She began crying again.
“One was your uncle’s.”
Victor.
Of course.
“Why start sleeping with Ethan?”
Her face twisted.
“I loved him.”
I stared at her.
“No.”
“I did.”
“You loved my fiancé?”
“Yes.”
“And continued helping me plan the wedding.”
“I hated myself.”
“Not enough to stop.”
She flinched.
Good.
“How long had you loved him?”
“Years.”
The word landed quietly.
“Before he proposed?”
“Yes.”
“Before we were engaged?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know?”
“I think so.”
“Did you ever tell him?”
“No.”
“Then how did it start?”
“He came here one night.”
“Why?”
“My father had threatened him.”
“With what?”
She looked at me.
“The truth about your mother.”
Everything inside me went still.
“What truth?”
Brooke whispered.
“My father was in Eleanor’s house that night too.”
The room narrowed.
“When?”
“After Ethan left.”
“What time?”
“Just after three.”
My mother was found at 3:12.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brooke.”
“I swear.”
“What did your father tell you?”
“He said Eleanor had documents that could destroy Victor.”
“The envelope.”
“Probably.”
“What happened?”
“He said when he arrived, Eleanor was already on the floor.”
“Alive?”
Brooke nodded.
“Barely.”
“Did he call an ambulance?”
“No.”
I couldn’t understand the answer.
“He left her?”
“He took the envelope.”
For several seconds, I genuinely could not speak.
My mother had been dying.
Richard Mercer entered the room.
Saw her.
And instead of calling for help, he stole evidence and left.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my father doesn’t trust me.”
I laughed.
“At least one of you has judgment.”
She took it.
“What did he do with the envelope?”
“He gave it to Victor.”
“Are you sure?”
“I saw them meet.”
“When?”
“The day after the funeral.”
“Did Ethan know?”
“No.”
“Then what did your father threaten him with?”
Brooke hesitated.
“A video.”
“What video?”
“Of Ethan leaving your mother’s house.”
“He used it to make Ethan look guilty.”
“Yes.”
“And Ethan slept with you because of that?”
“No.”
Her shame deepened.
“He came here drunk.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Nothing in my life could remain merely criminal.
It also had to be pathetic.
My phone vibrated.
Dad.
I answered.
“Mary, where are you?”
“Brooke’s.”
“Leave.”
“Why?”
“Now.”
Something in his voice made me move.
“What happened?”
“Victor is gone.”
“What?”
“He emptied his office.”
“And?”
Dad took a breath.
“He left a letter.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does it say?”
“Eleanor was right.”
A pause.
“And then one sentence.”
“What?”
May you like
My father read it.
“Richard Mercer knows who killed her.”
