Chapter 3: The Name on the Bank Account
"Your company is registered at my house?""
Daniel closed his eyes.
I repeated the question.
"Daniel, is Bennett Events registered at my address?""
He finally nodded.
"Yes.""
"Did you ask permission?""
"No.""
Tiffany let out an irritated breath.
"Can we stop acting like this is some enormous crime? We were going to make everything right.""
Richard turned toward his daughter.
"You told me the business was already profitable.""
"It will be!""
"You told me the money was going toward equipment and property development.""
"It was!""
"Then why did you transfer eighteen thousand dollars to your personal account?""
Tiffany's mouth snapped shut.
I watched her carefully.
Until that moment, she'd seemed angry, spoiled, and entitled.
Now she looked frightened.
And frightened people sometimes reveal more than angry ones.
"Mr. Reynolds," I said, "may I see every document connected to this application?""
He nodded.
"Of course. I'll print the complete file and provide the submission records.""
Daniel moved closer.
"Mom, you don't need to involve anyone else.""
I turned toward him.
"You involved me when you used my husband's death certificate to borrow money against my home.""
He flinched.
"That's not what happened.""
"Then tell me what happened.""
He looked toward Tiffany.
She shook her head slightly.
That tiny movement told me more than his previous explanations.
I sat down.
"Daniel, when did you first decide to use my property?""
He hesitated.
"About two months ago.""
"Two months?""
"Mom, things got complicated.""
"What things?""
Tiffany finally spoke.
"We had some financial difficulties.""
I laughed bitterly.
"Financial difficulties?""
She pointed at me.
"Don't pretend you don't understand how expensive life is. We had deposits, vendors, business expenses, and plans for our future.""
"Then you should have paid for them yourselves.""
"We expected your help.""
"My help?""
"Daniel said you had plenty of money after Walter passed.""
I stared at her.
There it was.
The reason.
Not the wedding.
Not the champagne.
My husband's death.
My retirement savings.
The land he'd spent forty years protecting.
They had looked at my grief and seen an opportunity.
I stood.
"Mr. Reynolds, please make copies of everything.""
He nodded.
Patricia stepped between me and the door.
"Margaret, let's be reasonable. These are young people. They made a mistake.""
I looked at her.
"Your daughter slapped me in front of 250 guests because I refused to buy her champagne.""
Patricia looked away.
"And now you're asking me to forgive forged financial documents?""
"She was emotional.""
"Then she should have learned to control her emotions before marrying my son.""
Richard rubbed his forehead.
"I want to know where my company's money went.""
Tiffany turned on him.
"Dad, you're embarrassing me!""
"You're doing that yourself.""
Daniel suddenly grabbed my hand.
"Mom, please. Don't call the police.""
I pulled away.
"Why?""
"Because this could destroy everything.""
I looked at him for a long moment.
"Daniel, you should have thought about that before you put my name on a loan application.""
His eyes filled with tears.
"I didn't think it would go this far.""
I almost reached for his face.
Almost.
But then I remembered the wedding.
His wife had struck me, and he'd asked me to apologize.
That was the moment I realized I couldn't keep protecting him from the consequences of his choices.
I stepped into the hallway and called my attorney, Helen Brooks.
She answered on the second ring.
"Margaret? Is everything all right?""
"No, Helen. I need you to come to the wedding venue. Someone has submitted a forged power of attorney using my name.""
Her voice immediately sharpened.
"Are you safe?""
"Yes.""
"Has money been transferred?""
"I don't know yet. There's a $185,000 loan application and a $50,000 property deposit.""
There was a pause.
"Don't sign anything. Don't agree to anything. Preserve every document.""
"I will.""
"And Margaret?""
"Yes?""
"Don't let them leave with the original paperwork.""
I looked through the office doorway.
Tiffany was whispering furiously to Daniel.
He was shaking his head.
Then I heard her say something that made my blood run cold.
"You promised me your mother would never find out about the first loan.""
I stopped breathing.
The first loan.
Helen was still speaking.
"Margaret? Are you there?""
I lowered my voice.
"Helen, I think there's more.""
"Then don't confront them. I'm on my way.""
I ended the call and returned to the office.
Daniel looked up immediately.
"Who did you call?""
"My attorney.""
Tiffany stood.
"You can't do that!""
"I just did.""
She walked toward me, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
"You don't understand what you've done.""
I held her gaze.
"Then explain it.""
She looked at Daniel.
He shook his head again.
But this time, Tiffany ignored him.
"Fine. You want the truth?""
She reached into her wedding purse and pulled out her phone.
She opened a banking application.
Then she turned the screen toward me.
There was a loan account.
A balance of $92,400.
The account holder's name was Daniel Bennett.
And beneath it was a date from four months earlier.
I stared at the screen.
"Daniel, what is this?""
He covered his face.
Tiffany's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Your son didn't start borrowing against your property yesterday, Margaret.""
She paused.
"He started four months ago.""
Then she opened another document.
And I saw the name of the person who had guaranteed that first loan.
*Walter Bennett.*
My dead husband.
But Walter had never signed anything after his death.
May you like
And the signature on that document looked exactly like his.
Almost.
