Chapter 7 - The Signature That Broke the Case
I drove straight to my bank. A fraud specialist named Grace Talbot brought me into a private office and pulled up the application.
"We can place an immediate hold while we investigate," she said. "I need you to tell me what you recognize."
The application listed my income correctly, my home's value closely, and a signature I had never made. It also included images of my driver's license, taken from the drawer where I kept old paperwork.
"Who verified the signature?" I asked.
Grace pointed to the digital audit log. A remote-notary session had been recorded Thursday at 2:08 p.m.
"I was presenting at a client meeting at two," I said. "Twenty people can prove it."
"Then we'll preserve those records. We won't assume the money was lawfully borrowed."
I thought of every time Vanessa had offered to organize my mail. Every time she had said, "I'll handle it," and I had been grateful not to handle it myself.
At the police station, Park studied the notary's identification details. The name was real. The license number belonged to someone else.
"Ricardo built a person out of stolen pieces," she said.
Another investigator brought in a clearer driveway image. The vehicle at my house was a dark gray sedan with a rental sticker in the window. A rental company had supplied records after a legal request.
The driver had shown a license bearing Ricardo's photograph and a false surname. But the emergency contact field named one person.
Vanessa Hayes.
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Park's phone rang. She listened for twenty seconds, then looked at me.
"We found the rental on Waverly Lane," she said. "And somebody's inside."
