Chapter 4: What My Mother Tried to Protect
My father didn't move for almost a full minute.
He stood beside the laptop, staring at the scanned document Ethan had sent me. His face had lost all its color, and his right hand was gripping the back of the chair so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
"Claire," Rachel whispered, "what is he talking about?""
I looked at my father.
"Dad?""
He slowly lowered himself into the chair.
"Your mother discovered something in 2019.""
"What?""
"Someone had been trying to use the building as collateral for a business loan.""
I looked back at the screen.
The document showed a property authorization dated April 17, 2019. It carried my mother's name and what appeared to be her signature.
"Was this the same company?"" I asked.
My father nodded.
"Northbridge Capital Partners.""
My stomach tightened.
The same private lender that appeared in the documents Daniel had just received.
"But Mom died in 2020," I said.
"Why didn't she tell me?""
"She didn't want you involved.""
"That doesn't answer my question.""
My father looked down.
"Because she thought she could handle it herself.""
Rachel pulled another chair closer.
"Robert, what exactly happened?""
He rubbed his face.
"Your mother received a letter from a law firm claiming that she'd authorized a financial arrangement involving the property. They said the building had been pledged against a business loan.""
"Did she sign anything?""
"No.""
"Then what did she do?""
"She hired an attorney. They discovered that someone had submitted a forged authorization. The bank rejected the transaction, and the lender withdrew its claim.""
I stared at him.
"Who submitted it?""
"We never found out.""
"Did Mom suspect anyone?""
My father hesitated.
Then he looked directly at me.
"She suspected Patricia.""
The room went silent.
I felt as though the floor had shifted beneath my feet.
"Patricia?""
"Your mother and Patricia knew each other before you met Ethan. They weren't close, but they had mutual business acquaintances.""
"Why would Patricia want our building?""
"Because the property was worth considerably more than it had been when your mother bought it. And because she was having financial problems even then.""
I looked at the scanned document.
"Did Mom tell you about the forged signature?""
"Yes.""
"Did she report it?""
"She filed a report. But there wasn't enough evidence to identify the person responsible.""
Rachel leaned forward.
"Then why would Patricia try again?""
My father looked at the laptop.
"Because she probably believed Claire would eventually marry Ethan and become easier to manipulate.""
I felt sick.
For three years, I had thought Patricia's constant questions about my property were ordinary curiosity.
She had asked about the rental income.
The maintenance expenses.
The insurance.
Even the trust.
She had once suggested that I sell the building and use the money to purchase a larger family home with Ethan.
I had laughed and told her that my mother would haunt me if I sold it.
Patricia hadn't laughed.
Now I understood why.
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered.
"Daniel, my father says my mother previously reported a forged authorization involving Northbridge Capital Partners.""
There was a pause.
"That changes things.""
"How?""
"It establishes a possible pattern. We need the old case number and the original documents if your father still has them.""
My father immediately stood.
"I have them.""
"Where?""
"In my home office. A locked filing cabinet.""
"Can you retrieve them?""
"Yes.""
Daniel continued.
"Mr. Bennett, don't go alone. And don't contact Patricia about this.""
My father looked at me.
"I wouldn't dream of it.""
"Also, Claire, I have contacted the bank's fraud department. They've temporarily restricted the disputed loan application pending investigation.""
I exhaled.
"Thank you.""
"But there's a problem.""
"What now?""
"The application includes a scanned copy of a personal financial statement signed by you. It lists your building, your savings, and an additional asset.""
I frowned.
"What additional asset?""
"An account held at Lakeshore Commercial Bank.""
I stared at the screen.
"I don't have an account there.""
Daniel was silent.
Then he said, "The account is registered under your name and tax identification details.""
My fingers went cold.
"How much is in it?""
"Approximately eighty-six thousand dollars.""
Rachel covered her mouth.
My father stepped closer.
"Is that money hers?""
"That's what we're trying to determine.""
I shook my head.
"I've never opened an account there.""
Daniel sighed.
"Then we may be looking at another instance of identity fraud.""
I closed my eyes.
Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars in fraudulent borrowing.
Thirty-two thousand dollars transferred from the wedding account.
A property authorization.
And now an account I had never opened.
"Daniel, who has access?""
"The application lists Ethan as an authorized financial representative.""
I looked at Rachel.
She whispered, "Oh my God.""
My father reached for the phone.
"Can we freeze that account?""
"Not without confirming the ownership and following the bank's procedures. But I've requested an immediate review.""
Daniel paused.
"Claire, I need to ask you something. Did you ever give Ethan copies of your identification documents?""
"Yes.""
"Passport? Social Security documentation? Tax records?""
"All of them. He helped me prepare our mortgage preapproval paperwork last year.""
"And did he keep copies?""
"He said he needed them for the accountant.""
Daniel exhaled.
"That may explain how the information was obtained.""
I looked at the wedding dress hanging beside the window.
The ivory fabric was still perfect.
The tiny pearl buttons were still fastened down the back.
The dress had cost more than I wanted to spend, but Ethan had insisted that our wedding should look impressive.
He had told me his mother would be disappointed if the ceremony looked inexpensive.
I had spent eleven months trying to make his family proud.
Now I was beginning to understand that they had spent those same eleven months preparing to take everything I had.
"Daniel, what happens now?""
"We investigate. And Claire, I strongly recommend you don't return to your apartment tonight.""
"Why?""
"Because Ethan knows where you live, and he's clearly aware that you've discovered something.""
My father nodded.
"She's coming home with me.""
"Good. I'll arrange for an investigator to meet you tomorrow morning.""
After the call, I gathered the documents.
Rachel helped me pack.
My father was about to leave when my phone vibrated.
A message from Patricia.
*Patricia: Your father should be careful about making accusations. He has his own history with the property, and I would hate for certain things to come out.*
I showed him.
He read it twice.
Then he quietly placed the phone on the table.
"What does she mean?"" I asked.
He didn't answer.
"Dad.""
He looked at me.
"There's something else about 2019.""
My stomach tightened.
"What?""
"Your mother didn't just discover a forged property document. She also discovered that someone had been accessing her personal records.""
"Who?""
"Your mother's attorney suspected it was someone with access to the family office.""
I frowned.
"What family office?""
"The small accounting office I used to run with Patricia's husband.""
I stared at him.
"You worked with Madison's father?""
"For a short time. Before you were born, actually. We had a business arrangement that ended badly.""
Rachel looked between us.
"Why have none of us heard this before?""
"Because it was over decades ago.""
My father rubbed his forehead.
"Patricia's husband, Charles, and I had a disagreement about some investment funds. He wanted to use money belonging to clients to cover a business shortfall. I refused. The partnership dissolved.""
"And Mom?""
"Your mother discovered that Charles had retained copies of several client files, including some property documents. She believed those files had been used to create false authorizations.""
I felt my heart pounding.
"Was Charles involved in the 2019 incident?""
"We never proved it.""
"Is he still alive?""
My father nodded.
"Yes. He lives in Wisconsin.""
I looked at the email from Ethan.
The attachment.
The old signature.
The repeated attempts to access the building.
Everything suddenly seemed connected.
My phone vibrated again.
This time, a photograph arrived.
It showed the Fairmont ballroom.
The flower arch.
The table where Madison had placed my ring.
And Ethan standing beside Patricia.
Beneath the picture was a message.
*Unknown Number: Your father should tell you what he signed before your mother died.*
I stared at it.
Then another message appeared.
*Unknown Number: Because the original deed isn't where he thinks it is.*
I slowly turned toward my father.
He looked at the photograph.
Then at the message.
May you like
And for the first time that evening, he seemed genuinely afraid.
"Claire," he whispered, "we need to get to my office.""
