Chapter 3 - A Signature in the Dark
The first thing I asked Rebecca was whether the signature was genuine.
"The document has Rachel's digital certificate," she answered.
"That wasn't my question."
"I know."
Snow slid slowly down my windshield.
Rebecca continued.
"We haven't verified whether Rachel personally authorized it. The certificate could have been misused."
"What was the payment for?"
"An asset acquisition."
"What asset?"
"A warehouse property outside Baltimore."
I stared ahead.
Meridian owned facilities throughout the eastern United States.
But a two-million-dollar real estate purchase should have required additional corporate approvals.
"Was the property ever transferred to Meridian?"
"No."
"Then where did the money go?"
"That's what we're trying to determine."
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
"What else?"
"Northbridge apparently represented that Rachel had authority to approve the transaction."
"She had no such authority."
"We know."
"Does she know?"
Another pause.
"I can't answer that yet."
I looked back at the Whitmore mansion.
Warm yellow light spilled through the windows.
Inside, the Christmas celebration was probably collapsing.
And somewhere behind those walls, my daughter was standing beside a man whose company might have used her identity to move millions of dollars.
"Rebecca, freeze every payment connected to Northbridge that we can lawfully hold pending review."
"Already recommended to the CFO."
"Preserve the records and notify outside counsel."
"We're doing that."
"And don't assume Rachel is innocent just because she's my daughter."
Rebecca's voice softened.
"I wouldn't."
"Good."
I ended the call.
Then I started my car.
I made it three blocks before my phone rang again.
Rachel.
I almost ignored it.
Then I remembered her wrist.
I answered.
"Mom?"
Her voice was shaking.
"Are you still nearby?"
"Yes."
"Can you come back?"
I took a breath.
"Why?"
She began crying.
"Because Grant says if I leave with you, he'll make sure I lose everything."
I pulled into an empty parking lot.
"Where are you?"
"Upstairs."
"Are you safe?"
A pause.
"I think so."
"Is Grant there?"
"No."
"Rachel, listen carefully. You can come to my house tonight. You don't have to decide anything about your marriage right now."
"He took my car keys."
My hand tightened around the steering wheel.
"Stay on the phone."
"Mom, please don't make a scene."
That sentence nearly broke me.
Even now, after everything that had happened, she was worried about embarrassing him.
"Rachel, is there another exit?"
"The kitchen."
"Good. Go downstairs and ask one of the staff members to let you out through the service entrance."
"Grant will be angry."
"I know."
I paused.
"But you are allowed to leave a house without your husband's permission."
She didn't answer.
Then I heard a door open.
Grant's voice came through the phone.
"Who are you talking to?"
Rachel gasped.
The call ended.
I turned my car around.
By the time I reached the mansion, several guests were leaving.
A valet hurried toward me.
"Ma'am, the driveway is for active arrivals only."
"I'm aware."
I stepped out.
"My daughter is inside."
He looked uncomfortable.
"Mr. Whitmore said—"
"I don't care what Mr. Whitmore said."
I walked past him.
Inside, the grand piano was silent.
The Christmas music had stopped.
Diane stood near the staircase speaking urgently to two guests.
When she saw me, her expression hardened.
"You're back."
"Where's Rachel?"
"She and Grant are having a private conversation."
"Where?"
"Evelyn, surely you understand that this evening has been difficult for all of us."
I looked directly at her.
"Get out of my way."
She stepped aside.
Upstairs, I heard a man's voice.
Grant.
"You're not going anywhere."
Then Rachel.
"Please give me my phone."
I followed the voices to a sitting room.
The door was half-open.
Grant stood in front of Rachel.
He was holding her phone.
She was backed against a bookcase.
"Give it to her," I said.
Grant turned.
His face twisted.
"You just don't know when to leave."
"Her phone."
He laughed.
"Are you going to fire my father again?"
"No."
I pulled out my own phone.
"I'm going to call the police if you keep preventing her from leaving."
Rachel looked at me.
Then at Grant.
"Please," she whispered.
For a long moment, he didn't move.
Then he threw the phone onto a sofa.
"Fine."
Rachel flinched.
I held out my hand.
"Come on, honey."
She took one step.
Grant spoke.
"Before you walk out, Rachel, remember what happens to people who betray me."
She stopped.
I felt a cold anger settle over me.
"What does that mean?"
He looked at me.
"Ask your daughter."
Rachel shook her head.
"Grant, don't."
"Tell her about the accounts."
I watched my daughter's face.
The fear there was unmistakable.
"What accounts?"
Grant smiled.
"The ones with her name on them."
Rachel began shaking.
"I didn't know what he was doing."
Grant shrugged.
"That's not what the paperwork says."
I looked at him.
"If you're threatening to use financial documents to control my daughter, I suggest you stop speaking."
He opened his mouth.
"Immediately."
Something in my voice made him close it again.
I put my arm around Rachel.
She came with me this time.
We walked downstairs together.
Diane watched us from the foot of the staircase.
Charles stood behind her.
He looked twenty years older than he had when I'd arrived.
He spoke quietly.
"Rachel, go with your mother."
Grant called after us.
"You'll regret this."
I turned at the front door.
"No, Grant."
I looked directly into his eyes.
"I think the people who may regret tonight are the ones who believed nobody would ever ask questions."
We left.
Rachel cried through most of the drive.
I didn't press her.
I simply turned on the heat and kept driving.
When we reached my house, she stared at its familiar brick walls and small front porch.
"I thought you couldn't afford a bigger place."
"I like this one."
"All this time?"
"All this time."
Inside, I made her tea.
I placed a blanket over her shoulders.
Then she looked at me with the expression she'd worn as a little girl when she had broken something and was afraid to confess.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"There's something else."
I sat beside her.
She took a shaky breath.
"Grant made me sign documents last spring."
"What documents?"
"I thought they were insurance forms."
My pulse quickened.
"Do you have copies?"
She nodded.
"On my laptop."
"Where is it?"
Her face crumpled.
"Grant took it."
May you like
Then she looked up.
"And he told me that if I ever talked to you about Meridian, he'd make sure you went to prison."
