Chapter 2 - A Dead Man's Signature
I read Paul’s name three times before I trusted my eyes.
“Your brother?” Claire asked.
“Yes.”
“But Uncle Paul died.”
“He did.”
Miriam did not offer a comforting explanation. “This record may be fraudulent, or someone may have used an existing account and outdated identification. We need the bank’s original documents.”
Paul had been my partner in a small construction company. He died after a stroke, leaving his widow, Vivian, and their son, Eric. I had helped them through the funeral, settled his business debts, and never questioned Vivian when she asked for privacy.
Claire rubbed her arms. “Derek said your family owed his mother.”
“Did he explain why?”
“No. Marilyn said there were things about your company I didn’t understand.”
Miriam copied the available records to an evidence folder and called a bank fraud contact. I took Claire and Noah to my sister Ruth’s house. Ruth lived alone in a brick bungalow with a Christmas tree that leaned slightly to the left and enough food for an entire church choir.
When she opened the door, she saw Claire’s face and stepped aside.
“Kitchen first,” Ruth said. “Questions later.”
Claire showered while Ruth warmed a casserole. I found Noah’s spare pajamas in a drawer where Ruth had kept them since Thanksgiving.
“Why didn’t she come to me?” Ruth asked.
“She thought Derek would take Noah.”
Ruth’s expression hardened. “Marilyn has been telling people Claire is unstable.”
“Who?”
“Anyone who will listen. She called me last week asking whether Claire had ever been hospitalized.”
I gripped the counter. “And you didn’t call?”
“I did. Claire said it was a misunderstanding.”
Ruth took a breath. “I should have come over.”
Neither of us argued.
At eight that evening, Miriam called. The bank had placed a temporary fraud restriction on the suspect account. It would investigate the transfers, but it could not instantly return the money.
“There’s more,” she said. “The original account was opened six years ago under a family trust arrangement.”
“By Paul?”
“The documents identify him as trustee. The bank’s scanned file includes a death certificate submitted three months after he died. Then an amendment names an alternate trustee.”
“Who?”
“Vivian.”
I looked toward the living room, where Claire was helping Noah hang a paper ornament.
“Vivian knew?”
“We don’t know what she knew. I’m asking for the underlying authorization and notarization records.”
I called Vivian. She answered on the fourth ring.
“Robert. Merry Christmas.”
“Why is your name on Claire’s account?”
Silence.
“Vivian?”
“Don’t do this tonight.”
“My daughter was begging for change with her baby.”
A sharp intake of breath.
“Where is she?”
“Safe. Answer me.”
“I signed something for Paul years ago. That’s all.”
“Paul has been dead eight years.”
“I know how long my husband has been dead.”
She hung up.
Ten minutes later Eric called.
“Uncle Rob, Mom says you’re accusing her of stealing.”
“I’m asking why she controls an account in Claire’s name.”
Eric paused. “There was a settlement.”
“What settlement?”
“Ask your lawyer. I’m not getting in the middle.”
He ended the call.
At midnight Claire came into the kitchen. She had borrowed Ruth’s flannel robe. She looked at the plate of cookies and smiled faintly.
“Mom used to make those.”
“Your aunt found the recipe.”
Claire sat opposite me. “Derek wasn’t always like this.”
“I believe you.”
“He brought me flowers when Noah was born. He held my hand through the emergency delivery.”
“That doesn’t excuse what came afterward.”
“I know. I just need to remember I wasn’t imagining the good parts.”
I reached across the table.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
My phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.
A photograph showed Claire and Noah entering Ruth’s house.
Below it were seven words.
YOU CAN HIDE HER. NOT THE ACCOUNT.
Then another photograph arrived.
May you like
It showed Paul standing outside a bank.
The date printed in the corner was three weeks ago.
