Chapter 7: The Signature That Wasn't My Father's
I couldn't stop looking at the signature.
It was my father's name.
Marcus Johnson.
The handwriting looked convincing.
But Harold had already explained that one of the earlier property documents appeared to have been altered.
Now there was another suspicious signature.
"Are you saying someone forged Dad's name?"" I asked.
Harold placed the document on the cabinet.
"I'm saying there are serious inconsistencies that need to be examined.""
Rochelle folded her arms.
"Why didn't you tell Marcus about this years ago?""
Harold looked at her.
"I did.""
"What?""
"Angela had asked me to contact him after I verified the transactions. I sent him a written notice.""
I frowned.
"Did he respond?""
Harold nodded.
"He came to my office.""
"What happened?""
"He told me he believed the documents were genuine and that the payments had been approved.""
Rochelle shook her head.
"That's impossible.""
Harold looked at the document.
"Not necessarily. Marcus may have been shown incomplete information.""
I remembered the argument downstairs.
My father had been so certain Denise was telling the truth.
He had believed her without asking questions.
Maybe he had done the same thing with the company.
Maybe he had trusted the wrong people for years.
I picked up the notebook.
"What happened after Mom died?""
Harold took a breath.
"Anthony left the company shortly afterward.""
"Why?""
"He said he was starting his own business.""
Rochelle frowned.
"Convenient.""
"Very.""
I looked at the photograph again.
Anthony Carter standing beside my mother.
His expression was friendly.
Almost convincing.
"Where is he now?""
Harold closed his briefcase.
"That is something we need to establish.""
My phone buzzed.
Dad.
I answered.
"Hey.""
"Where are you?""
"At Mom's storage unit.""
"Harold told me.""
I looked at the attorney.
He nodded.
Dad continued.
"I need you to come home. Denise is here.""
My stomach tightened.
"Why?""
"She says she wants to explain everything.""
I glanced at Rochelle.
"Did she say anything else?""
Dad hesitated.
"She says Anthony is coming over.""
Harold immediately looked up.
"Tell Marcus not to meet Anthony alone.""
I repeated the warning.
Dad became quiet.
"Why?""
Harold leaned toward the phone.
"Marcus, this matter is no longer just about the trust. We have evidence suggesting possible financial misconduct. Nobody should be discussing it privately with Anthony until the records are secured.""
Dad exhaled.
"Understood.""
I ended the call.
Rochelle placed her hand on my shoulder.
"Let's go.""
When we arrived home, Denise was sitting in the living room.
She had changed clothes.
Her hair was perfectly arranged, and a glass of water rested beside her.
My father stood near the fireplace.
He looked relieved when he saw me.
"Malik.""
I nodded.
"What's going on?""
Denise stood.
"I want to apologize.""
I stared at her.
"For what?""
She swallowed.
"For yesterday.""
I almost laughed.
"Yesterday?""
She looked at my father.
"Marcus, please.""
Dad folded his arms.
"Tell him what you told me.""
Denise turned toward me.
"I shouldn't have exaggerated what happened in the kitchen.""
"Exaggerated?""
"I was upset.""
"You told Dad I threatened you.""
"I felt intimidated.""
I shook my head.
"You lied.""
She looked down.
"I'm sorry.""
I stared at her.
Five years.
Five years of insults.
Five years of being made to feel unwanted.
And now she expected one apology to erase everything.
"Why did you try to access my mother's trust?""
Her expression changed.
"I never tried to take your money.""
"Then why did you submit that authorization?""
She looked toward Dad.
"Marcus, this is not what you think.""
Dad's voice was cold.
"Then explain it.""
Denise sat down.
"Anthony told me there was a way to reorganize the family's finances. He said the trust could be reviewed and that it might help the company.""
Harold stepped forward.
"Why would you believe your brother had authority over Angela's estate?""
Denise looked at him.
"Because he worked with Marcus.""
"That does not answer the question.""
She sighed.
"I trusted him.""
Rochelle laughed bitterly.
"That's interesting. Angela didn't.""
Denise's eyes flashed.
"Don't bring Angela into this.""
I stepped forward.
"Why not? She was my mother.""
Denise looked at me.
For a moment, I saw something ugly behind her expression.
"Your mother made everything difficult.""
Dad went completely still.
"What did you just say?""
Denise looked away.
"I didn't mean—"
"You said Angela made everything difficult.""
"Marcus, I was upset.""
He stepped closer.
"What did Angela do to you?""
Denise remained silent.
Harold opened the folder.
"Perhaps we should ask about the financial records instead.""
A car horn sounded outside.
Dad looked toward the window.
"That's probably Anthony.""
Harold immediately spoke.
"Marcus, don't let him enter without making clear that this meeting is being documented.""
Dad nodded.
He walked to the front door.
A tall man in a gray suit stood outside.
Anthony Carter.
He looked older than he did in the photograph.
His hair was closely cut, and a gold watch rested on his wrist.
"Marcus!""
He extended his hand.
Dad didn't take it.
"Come inside.""
Anthony stepped into the hallway.
His eyes moved toward me.
"Malik. Look at you. You've grown into a young man.""
I said nothing.
He smiled.
"Your mother would be proud.""
Something about the way he said it made my stomach turn.
Harold walked forward.
"Anthony Carter?""
Anthony looked at him.
"Yes.""
"Harold Bennett.""
Anthony's smile disappeared slightly.
"Of course. I remember you.""
"I imagine you do.""
Anthony glanced at the documents on the table.
"What's all this?""
Dad answered.
"We found some of Angela's records.""
Anthony nodded slowly.
"That must be difficult.""
"Do you remember the payments made to Carter Development Consulting?""
Anthony's expression didn't change.
"Which payments?""
"The six hundred thousand dollars.""
A brief silence.
Then Anthony laughed.
"Marcus, that was years ago.""
"Did I authorize them?""
Anthony shrugged.
"I believe so.""
Harold placed the transfer document on the table.
"Can you identify this signature?""
Anthony glanced at it.
"Looks like Marcus's.""
Dad leaned forward.
"Did I sign it?""
Anthony looked at him.
"You're asking me?""
"Yes.""
Anthony smiled.
"Marcus, you were running a company. You signed dozens of documents every week.""
Harold spoke calmly.
"Do you recall Angela investigating these transfers?""
Anthony's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
"Angela had a habit of involving herself in things she didn't understand.""
Rochelle stood.
"She understood enough to know money was missing.""
Anthony turned toward her.
"Rochelle, this has nothing to do with you.""
"It has everything to do with my sister.""
He shook his head.
"Angela was sick. She was under a lot of stress.""
My fists tightened.
"Don't talk about my mother like that.""
Anthony looked at me.
"Young man, I'm simply explaining the situation.""
"No. You're disrespecting her.""
Dad stepped between us.
"Enough.""
Harold placed another document on the table.
"This is an email recovered from Angela's archived records. It appears to show that Anthony requested the transfer of funds without the required authorization.""
Anthony stared at it.
His smile disappeared.
"Where did you get that?""
"From Angela's records.""
"Those records are private.""
Harold raised an eyebrow.
"That is an interesting concern from someone who appears in them repeatedly.""
Anthony looked toward Denise.
She had gone pale.
Dad noticed.
"Denise?""
She didn't answer.
"Did you know about the transfers?""
She swallowed.
"I knew Anthony had business expenses.""
"Did you know he was moving money from my company?""
"I didn't know exactly what he was doing.""
Anthony immediately turned toward her.
"Denise, don't.""
The room became silent.
Dad stared at him.
"Don't what?""
Anthony's jaw tightened.
"Marcus, let's discuss this privately.""
"No.""
"There's no reason to involve everyone.""
Dad pointed toward the documents.
"You used my company. You used my wife's trust records. You tried to use my son's inheritance. Everything is happening in this room.""
Anthony slowly stood.
"You need to be careful about what you're accusing me of.""
Harold closed his folder.
"Then you should have no objection to providing your financial records to the appropriate investigators.""
Anthony looked at him.
Then he turned toward Denise.
"Tell him.""
She shook her head.
"Anthony, stop.""
"Tell him what happened to the money.""
Dad looked between them.
"What money?""
Anthony's face darkened.
"The money wasn't stolen.""
Harold remained silent.
Anthony continued.
"It was transferred.""
"Where?"" Dad asked.
Anthony looked directly at him.
Then he answered.
"Into an account Denise controlled.""
My father stopped breathing.
Denise jumped up.
"That's a lie!""
Anthony laughed.
"You told me to move it!""
"Shut up!""
The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Dad stared at her.
And in that moment, I knew.
There was much more to this story than either of them had admitted.
But Anthony wasn't finished.
He reached into his jacket and removed a folded document.
"Marcus, if you want to know why Denise needed that loan, maybe you should read this.""
He placed it on the table.
It was a bank statement.
The account holder's name was Denise Johnson.
May you like
The balance was more than four hundred thousand dollars.
And the most recent deposit was dated three days before my mother died.
