Chapter 11 - The Account With My Name

The bank account existed. Its paperwork included a copy of my driver's license, a signature card, and a phone number registered to a prepaid device. None of the deposits had reached my accounts.

"Somebody built a paper version of me," I said.

Margaret nodded. "And then made that version accept the money."

We contacted the bank's fraud department and preserved the records through counsel. Brooks took the identity-theft report and warned me not to contact the unknown account holder. The transfer trail would take time to reconstruct.

At home, or the house I still technically shared with Grant, I had left my jewelry, clothes, and most of the photographs from my childhood. It would have been easy to call the police and demand entry. Instead Margaret arranged a civil standby so I could retrieve essentials safely.

Grant met us in the hallway. He had changed into a gray sweater, and for a second he looked like the man who once brought me soup when I was sick.

"We didn't have to become enemies," he said.

"You had choices."

"So did you. You could have let the gala pass."

"Ruth was lying on the floor."

He rubbed his forehead. "My mother got carried away."

"And the forged signatures?"

"Adrian handled the documents."

There it was: the first crack in his loyalty. He was already choosing someone to blame.

I took Dad's photographs and the green scarf my mother had knitted before she died. On the way out I noticed a familiar brown envelope beside Grant's keys. It carried the logo of the notary whose name appeared on the impossible amendment.

"Who is Ellen Shaw?" I asked.

Grant moved too quickly to block the envelope. "Nobody you know."

Margaret spoke calmly. "We are not taking it. But you've just identified a potential witness."

Grant's face lost its color.

That night Ellen Shaw called Margaret's office. She said she had never notarized the amendment and was willing to give a sworn statement.

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Before the call ended, a second line rang. Ellen answered it, whispered, "How did you get this number?" and went silent.

THE NIGHT SHE TURNED THE TABLES |