Chapter 4: The Signature That Wasn't His
My father stared at Tyler's phone as Michael Reynolds's name flashed across the screen.
“Answer it,” Dad said.
Tyler shook his head.
“I don't want to talk to him.””
“You don't have to,” Dad replied.
“But put it on speaker. If he's involved in what your mother has done, I want to hear what he has to say.””
Tyler hesitated before accepting the call.
“Hello?””
“Tyler, thank God.”” Michael sounded breathless, as if he'd been running.
“Where are you? Your mother said you were coming to the gate.””
“I'm not coming.””
Silence.
Then Michael's voice changed.
“What do you mean, you're not coming?””
“I don't want to go to Florida with you.””
“Listen, kid, I know things seem confusing right now, but your mother and I have made arrangements. Everything is going to be fine.””
Tyler's face twisted.
“You told her to get rid of Grandpa and Sarah and Lily!””
I watched my father close his eyes.
Michael didn't answer immediately.
“Tyler, that's not what happened.””
“I heard you!””
“Your mother explained that there were some family complications. I was only trying to help her.””
Dad stepped closer to the phone.
“Then perhaps you can explain why you have been receiving money from my bank account.””
The silence that followed was so complete that I could hear the airport announcement from a gate halfway across the terminal.
Finally, Michael said, “George, I think you need to speak to Karen.””
“I intend to. But first, I'd like to know why you have my wife's original property deed.””
“It's not what you think.””
“That's an interesting phrase. My wife has used it about six times this morning.””
Michael exhaled.
“Look, I don't want any trouble. Karen told me you had agreed to sell the property. She said the money was going to be divided between you.””
“Did you see the signed paperwork?””
“Yes.””
“Did you see me sign it?””
Another silence.
“No.””
“Then you have no reason to believe the signature is genuine.””
Michael lowered his voice.
“George, I have a copy of the authorization. Karen gave it to me herself.””
Dad's expression hardened.
“Keep that copy. Don't destroy it. Don't alter it. And don't try to leave the airport with anything that belongs to my family.””
“You can't threaten me.””
“I'm not threatening you. I'm telling you that the truth is about to become very important to both of us.””
Dad ended the call.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Tyler sat down on his suitcase and covered his face.
“I knew something was wrong,” he whispered.
“I just didn't think she'd do this to you.””
My father sat beside him.
“Tyler, you're not responsible for your mother's decisions.””
“But I got a ticket.””
“That isn't a crime.””
“She left Lily behind so I could go.””
Dad's jaw tightened.
“You didn't ask her to do that.””
Tyler wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
“She told me Lily was too young to appreciate the trip. She said she wanted to do something special for me.””
I looked at him.
“And you believed her?””
He nodded miserably.
“She's my mom. I wanted to believe her.””
I couldn't blame him for that. I had spent years wanting to believe Karen could become the woman my father thought he'd married.
But I wasn't going to let Tyler carry the blame for what she'd done.
I crouched in front of him.
“Listen to me. You didn't leave Lily off that reservation. You didn't steal Dad's money.
You didn't forge anything. Your mother made those choices.””
He looked at me.
“Are you sure you don't hate me?””
“No,” I said.
“I'm angry at what happened. That's different.””
His shoulders sagged with relief.
Dad stood and called his attorney, a man named Daniel Brooks who had handled my mother's estate years earlier.
Daniel answered on the second ring.
“George? What's wrong?””
“I need you to secure the records for the Cape Cod property. Someone may be attempting to sell it using a forged authorization.””
There was a pause.
“Who has access to the original deed?””
“My wife.””
“Has anything been filed with the registry?””
“I don't know.””
“Then don't confront anyone else until we establish what has happened. I'll check the property records and prepare the necessary notices. Send me every document you have.””
Dad explained the transfers, the airline tickets, and Michael's phone call.
Daniel listened without interrupting.
When Dad finished, the attorney spoke carefully.
“George, if someone has forged your signature, we need to preserve the evidence. And if money has been transferred without your authorization, the bank needs to investigate that separately. Don't assume we know the full picture yet.””
“I understand.””
“Where is Karen now?””
Dad checked the photograph Tyler had received.
“Gate B12.””
“Stay away from her for the moment. I'm going to contact the appropriate people and find out whether any property transaction is pending.””
Dad thanked him and ended the call.
Then he looked at me.
“We need to go home.””
“What about Karen?””
“If she wants to leave, we can't physically stop her. But she isn't taking that deed out of our possession if we can help it.””
He called airport security to report a possible property-document theft and asked how to make a formal report. They directed him to the airport police office, where an officer took down the details and reviewed the photograph.
The officer explained that the document's authenticity would need to be established and that a photograph alone wasn't proof of a crime.
Dad agreed to provide the original records and cooperate with any investigation.
As we left the office, my phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
The message contained a photograph of a page bearing my father's name and a signature beneath it.
Underneath the image were seven words.
Ask your father what he signed last year.
I stared at the screen.
“Dad?””
He turned.
I showed him the message.
For the first time since the airport confrontation, my father looked genuinely confused.
“I've never seen that document.””
“Then why would someone send it to me?””
His phone buzzed.
A message from Daniel.
*George, I checked the preliminary property records. There is an active application involving the Cape Cod house. We need to talk immediately.*
Dad read it twice.
Then another message appeared.
This one contained a scanned document.
At the top was the name of my mother's estate.
At the bottom was my father's signature.
But beside the signature was a date from eleven months earlier.
The day my father had been hospitalized after a serious fall.
The day Karen had told me she'd spent the entire afternoon at his bedside.
Dad looked at the document, his lips parting.
“I was unconscious that afternoon,” he whispered.
May you like
And suddenly, the question wasn't just how Karen had obtained the deed.
It was who had helped her create the signature.
