Chapter 6: The Agreement I Never Signed
Samuel Price answered my call before the first ring had finished.
“Rachel?””
“I need you to check something in the estate records.””
“Tell me.””
“Trust File 11-B. My sister says there's an agreement giving Daniel control of the trust. It supposedly bears my signature.””
Samuel was silent for a moment.
“Did she give you a copy?””
“She gave me a photograph of a letter from Mom. The reference is written at the bottom.””
“Send it to me. I'll compare it with the records we have.””
I sent the photograph while standing beside my car.
A few seconds later, his reply arrived.
I'm reviewing the file now. Please don't confront Daniel about the alleged agreement until we establish whether it exists.
I looked across the parking lot.
A couple walked past with a toddler bundled in a blue coat. The child was holding a red balloon, which bobbed above his head in the wind.
For eleven years, Daniel and I had imagined what it might be like to have a child.
We'd discussed names, schools, vacations, and whether we'd be the sort of parents who let a toddler eat pancakes for dinner.
Now he was having a baby with my sister.
And somewhere in the middle of that betrayal was a missing inheritance and a document that might carry my forged signature.
I got into the car and drove home.
Daniel was waiting in the living room.
He stood as soon as I entered.
“Where were you?””
I placed my handbag on the console table.
“Out.””
“With Melissa?””
I looked at him.
He knew.
Perhaps Melissa had already told him. Perhaps he'd been tracking her movements the way he'd tracked mine. Perhaps he simply understood that the moment I'd discovered the account, I would go straight to the one person who might know more than he did.
“You knew we were meeting,” I said.
“No.””
“Then why did you ask?””
“Because she called me twenty minutes ago and said you'd contacted her.””
I removed my coat.
“What did she tell you?””
“That you were asking about the trust.””
I looked at him carefully.
“And the agreement?””
His expression changed.
“What agreement?””
I laughed softly.
“You're still doing it.””
“Doing what?””
“Pretending not to know what I'm talking about.””
He stepped toward me.
“Rachel, whatever Melissa told you, you need to understand that she isn't thinking clearly.””
“She gave me a copy of a letter from my mother.””
“Melissa has been collecting documents for years. Some of them are incomplete. Some of them don't mean what she thinks they mean.””
“Did you ever ask me to sign an agreement giving you control of my mother's trust?””
“No.””
The answer was immediate.
I watched him.
“Did you ever sign one on my behalf?””
His face went rigid.
“Absolutely not.””
“Then you won't mind if Samuel examines the original.””
He stared at me.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear beneath his anger.
“Samuel is getting involved?””
“He's the estate attorney.””
“He doesn't know the whole situation.””
“Then you should have explained it to him six years ago.””
Daniel walked to the fireplace and picked up a framed photograph of us on our honeymoon.
He held it for a moment before placing it back on the mantel.
“Your mother was very ill,” he said quietly.
“She was frightened about what would happen to you and Melissa. She wanted someone to make sure the money didn't become another reason for you to fight.””
“And you volunteered?””
“She asked me.””
“Why?””
“Because she trusted me.””
I thought of the letter she'd written to him.
I am trusting you with this because you have promised to put Rachel's interests first.
“What did you promise her?””
He rubbed his forehead.
“I promised to protect you.””
“From what?””
“From losing everything.””
I stared at him.
“Daniel, I lost my sister. I lost my trust in you. And now I'm finding documents that suggest someone used my mother's name and possibly mine to move hundreds of thousands of dollars. What exactly were you protecting me from?””
He looked at me with tired eyes.
“You don't understand how dangerous Melissa became after your mother died.””
I felt a sharp sting of anger.
“Don't blame her for your choices.””
“I'm not blaming her.””
“You're doing exactly that.””
He turned away.
“Your mother told me Melissa had been asking about the trust. She was worried Melissa would take the money and disappear. She wanted me to make sure the funds stayed where they belonged.””
“And did you?””
“I tried.””
“Then why did the money disappear?””
He pressed his lips together.
“I made a mistake.””
“What mistake?””
“I trusted the wrong person.””
“Who?””
He looked at me.
“Someone who told me the transfer was necessary to protect the trust.””
“Who told you that?””
He hesitated.
Then he said, “A financial adviser your mother had been working with.””
I felt a chill.
“What was the adviser's name?””
“I don't remember.””
“You don't remember the name of the person who supposedly persuaded you to authorize a transfer of $420,000?””
“Rachel, it was six years ago.””
“And you've been meeting Melissa secretly for months to discuss the money, but you can't remember the adviser's name?””
His expression hardened.
“I'm trying to explain.””
“No. You're trying to make the story complicated enough that I stop asking questions.””
He took a step toward me.
“That's not fair.””
I met his eyes.
“Neither is sleeping with my sister.””
He recoiled as if I'd struck him.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock above the fireplace.
Then he said, “I know what I did was wrong.””
I waited.
“But I never intended to destroy our marriage.””
“You intended to have an affair?””
He closed his eyes.
“I didn't plan it.””
“Did you plan the apartment?””
He said nothing.
“Did you plan the meetings? The lies? The messages you sent me from an office where you weren't working?””
“No.””
“Then tell me what you did plan.””
His eyes opened.
“I planned to recover the money.””
I stared at him.
“By sleeping with Melissa?””
“No. That came later.””
“Later than what?””
He looked away.
I felt my pulse quicken.
“Daniel, what happened six years ago?””
He walked to the window and stood with his back to me.
“After your mother died, I found out that the estate account had been accessed before probate was completed. Melissa was panicking. She said she'd been told the money was supposed to go into a temporary holding account.””
“Who told her?””
“The adviser.””
“And you believed that?””
“I wanted to believe it was a legitimate arrangement.””
“Why?””
“Because your mother had spoken to me about protecting the trust.””
He turned.
“She'd told me that if the estate became disputed, the money needed to remain untouched until you were ready to receive it.””
I thought of the letter.
“The account was supposed to remain untouched.””
“Yes.””
“But you authorized the transfer.””
“I believed the account was controlled by the trustee.””
“Who was the trustee?””
He didn't answer.
“Who was it, Daniel?””
He swallowed.
“Northstar Family Holdings.””
I stared at him.
“So you knew the company name all along.””
“Yes.””
“And you knew you were authorized to access the account.””
“Yes.””
I felt a cold calm settle over me.
“Then you knew exactly where the money went.””
“I knew where it was sent. I didn't know what happened to it afterward.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I was trying to get it back before you found out.””
I almost laughed.
“You had six years.””
“I know.””
“And when you couldn't get it back, you started seeing my sister.””
His face tightened.
“Melissa contacted me because she found records suggesting the money had been moved again. She said she could help me trace it.””
“By becoming pregnant with your child?””
“Rachel—”
“Was that part of the investigation?””
“No.””
“Then don't expect me to pretend the affair has anything to do with protecting me.””
He lowered his head.
I looked toward the stairs.
“I want you to leave tonight.””
His head snapped up.
“What?””
“I want you to pack a bag and stay somewhere else.””
“Rachel, this is my home.””
“It's mine too. And I can't sleep beside you while I don't know which parts of our life are real.””
He looked as though he wanted to argue.
Then he noticed the folder beside my handbag.
“What did Samuel give you?””
“Documents.””
“Which documents?””
“Records showing your name on the account.””
He went pale.
“Rachel, you need to understand something about that account.””
“I'm listening.””
“It wasn't created to steal your mother's money.””
“Then why was it created?””
He took a long breath.
“Because your mother knew someone was going to challenge her will.””
“Who?””
He hesitated.
“Your mother believed Melissa was being manipulated by her husband at the time. She thought he might pressure her into demanding money from the estate.””
“Her ex-husband had been gone for months before Mom died.””
“I know.””
“Then why would Mom be worried about him?””
Daniel looked at the floor.
“Because she discovered he had debts. He'd been asking Melissa to borrow money from the family.””
I remembered the arguments between Melissa and her former husband. The late-night calls. The frantic messages. The way she'd once arrived at our mother's house with a suitcase and refused to explain why.
It was possible.
But it didn't explain the transfer.
“Even if that's true,” I said, “why did you use an authorization dated after Mom died?””
“I didn't create the date.””
“Who did?””
“I don't know.””
“Who forged her signature?””
“I don't know.””
“Who forged mine?””
His head jerked up.
“What?””
“Melissa says there was an agreement bearing my signature, giving you control of the trust.””
“I never saw an agreement like that.””
I watched him carefully.
“You're sure?””
“Yes.””
The answer sounded different this time.
Not evasive.
Frightened.
Before I could question him further, my phone rang.
Samuel.
I answered on speaker.
“Rachel, I've located a reference to Trust File 11-B,” he said.
“The document Melissa photographed appears to correspond to a private trust agreement, but the copy in our archive is incomplete.””
“What does that mean?””
“It means someone removed pages from the file before it was transferred to my office.””
I looked at Daniel.
He had gone motionless.
Samuel continued.
“There's another issue. The file references an additional authorized signatory. The name was recorded in a separate attachment that is currently missing.””
“Can you tell me who it was?””
“Not yet. But I found a notation that may help us identify the original records. The notation indicates that the trust was established through a financial institution rather than through the probate court.””
“Which institution?””
Samuel named a bank.
I wrote it down.
Then he added, “Rachel, I also need to tell you something else. The original authorization form appears to have been submitted by a person who claimed to be acting under a power of attorney.””
My stomach tightened.
“Whose power of attorney?””
“Your mother's.””
“But she was already dead.””
“Yes. That's why this requires further investigation.””
I glanced at Daniel.
He was staring at the phone.
Samuel paused.
“Rachel, is Daniel with you?””
“Yes.””
“Then I recommend you both come to my office tomorrow morning. There is a question about the validity of the trust documents that I don't want either of you answering without legal advice.””
Daniel reached for the phone.
I moved it away.
“What's the question?”” I asked.
Samuel's voice lowered.
“The trust agreement appears to have been witnessed by two people. One was your mother's financial adviser. The other was someone whose name I believe you'll recognize.””
“Who?””
Samuel took a breath.
“Your mother listed Daniel Morgan as a witness on the original agreement.””
I turned toward my husband.
His face had lost all color.
Then Samuel continued.
“But Rachel, there's a more serious problem. The signature on the copy of the agreement isn't the only signature that appears to have been altered.””
I gripped the phone.
“Whose else?””
“The beneficiary's.””
I looked at Daniel.
He shook his head, barely perceptibly.
Samuel's next words seemed to drain all the air from the room.
“Rachel, the beneficiary named in the original trust agreement was not you.””
I couldn't speak.
May you like
Daniel closed his eyes.
And for the first time, I wondered whether my mother had been trying to protect me from losing the inheritance—or from discovering that the inheritance had never been mine in the first place.
