Chapter 6: My Mother's Signature
I stared at the document until the letters blurred.
My mother's name.
Miriam Hayes.
Her signature was at the bottom of the withdrawal form, dated six months earlier.
I knew that signature.
I'd seen it on birthday cards, school forms, permission slips, and every Christmas card she'd ever sent.
It was unmistakably hers.
"Mom took the documents?"" I whispered.
My father shook his head.
"No.""
Helen Price folded her hands.
"The withdrawal was completed in person. The representative presented identification and the required authorization paperwork.""
"Who was it?"" I asked.
Helen looked at the screen.
"The name listed is Miriam Hayes.""
I picked up my phone and called my mother.
She answered immediately.
"Naomi? Are you okay?""
"Mom, did you go to First National Bank six months ago?""
Silence.
Then she said, "Why?""
"Did you open Dad's safe-deposit box?""
"No.""
"Your signature is on the withdrawal form.""
Another silence.
This one lasted longer.
Then Mom whispered:
"Someone has been using my name.""
My father stood up.
"What does that mean?""
I put the phone on speaker.
Mom's voice trembled.
"Daniel, remember the woman who came to the house last winter?""
My father went completely still.
"What woman?""
"The one who said she worked for your old company. She asked whether I still had your documents.""
He closed his eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because she showed me a photograph of Naomi leaving work.""
My heart stopped.
Mom continued.
"She said if I didn't cooperate, they would make sure something happened to my daughter.""
I gripped the phone.
"Mom, what exactly did she ask you to do?""
"She wanted me to sign a statement saying Daniel had given me permission to access the box.""
"Did you?""
"No. I refused.""
My father rubbed his face.
"Did she take anything?""
Mom hesitated.
"She asked to see my identification. I showed her my old driver's license because I thought she needed to verify my identity for the company paperwork.""
"Mom!""
"I know, sweetheart. I know.""
I closed my eyes.
Someone had obtained enough information to impersonate her.
And they'd used her signature to remove whatever my father had hidden.
Helen Price interrupted gently.
"There's something else you should know.""
She brought up another document.
"The box was accessed six months ago, but the removal wasn't complete. The bank retained a sealed item under a separate hold instruction.""
My father looked up.
"What item?""
Helen opened a drawer and removed a small gray security pouch.
A number was printed across the front.
417-B.
My father's hands began shaking.
"That's it.""
I stared at him.
"What is it?""
"The original ledger.""
Helen placed the pouch on the desk.
"Before I release this, I need to verify the current legal status and the identity of the account holder. There are also instructions attached requiring two witnesses.""
She examined the paperwork.
Then she looked at me.
"Miss Hayes, you're listed as the second authorized recipient.""
I felt a chill move down my spine.
"Why?""
My father answered.
"Because I knew Richard might find a way to impersonate me.""
He looked at the pouch.
"I made sure the original evidence couldn't be released to anyone without your presence.""
Helen completed the verification process.
Then she handed us the pouch.
My father didn't open it immediately.
He stared at it for a long time.
"Your grandfather helped me prepare this," he said.
I frowned.
"My grandfather?""
"Yes. Before he died, he discovered some of the same irregularities in Richard's company.""
"Grandpa died when I was six.""
"He left instructions for this evidence to be preserved.""
My father carefully opened the pouch.
Inside was a thick black ledger, several photographs, and a small flash drive.
The pages were filled with numbers, dates, property addresses, and handwritten notes.
I flipped through them.
There were dozens of companies.
Some had the same registered address.
Others listed directors who appeared to be elderly people with no connection to the construction industry.
One page carried a red handwritten note.
*COLE FAMILY — PRIVATE TRANSFERS — ORIGINAL APPROVALS*
I looked at my father.
"Is this enough to prove what Richard did?""
"Possibly. But the most important evidence is on the flash drive.""
He picked it up.
Before we could examine it, my phone rang.
It was an unknown number.
I answered cautiously.
"Hello?""
A man's voice came through.
"Naomi Hayes?""
"Who is this?""
"My name is Victor Bennett. I'm an attorney. I represented your grandfather.""
My father immediately looked up.
I put the call on speaker.
Victor continued.
"I've been trying to locate you for several months. Your grandfather left specific instructions concerning a trust and a property transfer.""
I glanced at the ledger.
"What trust?""
"The Hayes family trust. It holds the original title to a parcel of land in Santa Clara County.""
"Someone told me it was worth several million dollars.""
"That's correct. But the property isn't the only issue.""
My father leaned toward the phone.
"Victor, this is Daniel Hayes.""
The attorney went silent.
Then I heard a sharp intake of breath.
"Daniel?""
"Yes.""
"Oh, my God.""
Victor's voice became urgent.
"Listen carefully. Richard Cole filed a petition last week claiming that the original owner was deceased and that the trust should be dissolved.""
My father gripped the edge of the desk.
"On what grounds?""
"Fraudulent documentation. Someone submitted a death certificate and a notarized affidavit claiming you died in 1997.""
I looked at my father.
"But he's alive.""
"I know," Victor said.
"That's why this is important.""
He paused.
"The hearing is scheduled for next Thursday.""
My father looked furious.
"Who signed the affidavit?""
Victor hesitated.
"I was hoping you could tell me.""
"Why?""
"Because the document was notarized by someone who claims to have witnessed your death.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Who?""
Victor read the name.
"Patricia Cole.""
Brandon's mother.
The same woman who had complained about the blood on the salon wall.
The same woman who had told me the wedding must go ahead because the family had spent too much money.
My father slowly sat down.
"She wasn't even present when I disappeared.""
Victor answered quietly.
"There's another problem, Naomi.""
"What?""
"The affidavit includes a statement from someone claiming to be your father's only surviving child.""
I frowned.
"I'm his only child.""
"That's what makes this unusual.""
Victor paused.
"The person making the claim is named Brianna Cole.""
I stared at the phone.
Brianna.
Brandon's sister.
The woman who had cut my mother's braid.
The woman who had taken the envelope.
My father looked as though someone had punched him.
"That's impossible.""
Victor continued.
"She submitted a birth certificate claiming Daniel Hayes is her biological father.""
My mouth went dry.
I thought about the way Brianna had looked at my mother.
The contempt.
The entitlement.
The strange interest in the envelope.
Then I remembered something from the salon.
When Mom had refused to let her cut her hair, Brianna had said something I hadn't understood at the time.
Some people spend their entire lives protecting things that were never theirs.
I looked at my father.
"Is Brianna your daughter?""
He didn't answer.
Instead, he opened the ledger again and turned to the final page.
There was a photograph tucked inside.
A young woman stood beside Richard Cole.
She was holding a newborn baby.
On the back, in my father's handwriting, were five words:
The child Richard made me hide.
My mother called again.
I answered.
"Mom, we found something.""
She began crying before I could explain.
"Naomi, sweetheart, there's something I never told you about Brianna.""
I closed my eyes.
"What?""
Mom whispered:
"Brianna was born three months before your father disappeared.""
My father stood so quickly that his chair fell backward.
And then Mom said the words that made everything worse.
"Daniel knew about the baby. He promised me he would protect her, too.""
I stared at the photograph.
The woman holding the baby wasn't my mother.
It was Patricia Cole.
And suddenly, the question wasn't whether Brianna was my father's daughter.
It was why my father had spent twenty-five years pretending she didn't exist.
My father picked up the phone.
"Miriam, listen to me. Do not open the front door for anyone.""
"Why?""
"Because Richard knows we found the ledger.""
A loud crash sounded through the phone.
Mom screamed.
Then the call went dead.
I dropped my phone.
"Mom!""
My father grabbed the ledger and ran toward the bank's exit.
I followed him.
Outside, his phone began ringing.
The caller ID showed an unknown number.
He answered.
A familiar male voice spoke.
Richard Cole.
"Daniel," he said calmly.
"You should have stayed dead.""
May you like
Then came another sentence.
"Your wife has something I need. And this time, I'm not asking politely.""
