Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Took the Photograph
Monday morning smelled of burnt coffee and antiseptic wipes.
Oliver stayed with Rebecca while I met Judith in her office overlooking Boston Harbor.
She placed three documents on the desk: an authorization form, a proposal for a child-development residence in Connecticut, and a draft loan guarantee.
Every page carried a convincing version of my signature.
"This isn't mine," I said.
"I believe you," Judith replied. "But a bank may need more than belief."
The trust property was an old brick mill Hannah had spent years transforming into affordable studios and a neighborhood daycare. Miles wanted to borrow six million dollars against it through a development company called North Quay Partners.
"The property isn't even for sale."
"Which is why the paperwork calls it a temporary bridge loan."
Judith slid over a bank statement showing a small processing fee charged to my company card.
"Somebody here helped them."
I called Patrick. He didn't answer.
Then a woman named Iris Bell asked to meet me outside the office building.
Iris had photographed the wedding.
She was twenty-six, tired-eyed, and carrying two memory cards in a plastic case.
"I quit this morning," she said. "Celeste wanted me to delete everything from the cake incident."
I thanked her for preserving the original files.
"There's another problem," Iris said. "I recorded a planning call because the bride kept changing her instructions."
She played a short clip.
Celeste's voice was unmistakable.
"Don't let Oliver get near Daniel before the reception speeches. The kid has a habit of repeating everything."
Miles answered, "Then keep him occupied until we have the signatures."
I looked at Iris.
"Was that on the wedding day?"
May you like
She nodded.
"And Daniel," she said, "there's a second voice on that recording. Someone you work with."
