Chapter 6: The Second Application
Elizabeth answered before the first ring had finished.
“Tell me you've seen my message,” she said.
“I have. What second application?””
“An application for a business credit facility.””
I sat down.
“How much?””
“Three hundred and twenty thousand dollars.””
For a moment, I couldn't process the number.
“Against my company?””
“The application lists your consultancy as the proposed borrower. It also names Grant as an authorized representative.””
I stared at the kitchen wall.
“That is impossible. Grant has never been an employee or director.””
“That's what I expected. The company records don't show him having that authority.””
“Then how did he apply?””
“Someone submitted documents claiming that he had been granted financial authority.””
I closed my eyes.
The pattern was becoming impossible to ignore.
The house.
The loan.
The forged signature.
The business application.
Grant hadn't simply been cheating on me.
He had apparently been constructing an entirely different financial life using my name.
“Elizabeth, can the application be stopped?””
“The lender has been notified of the dispute. I've requested that no funds be released pending verification. But we need to move quickly.””
“What do you need from me?””
“Your company formation documents, current ownership records, bank statements, and any correspondence showing that Grant had no authority to act for the business.””
“I can get everything.””
“Good. And Audrey?””
“Yes?””
“Don't confront him about the business application yet.””
I looked toward the driveway.
A familiar black SUV had just appeared on the security camera.
Grant was back.
“I think that may be difficult.””
“Why?””
“Because he's outside.””
Elizabeth went quiet.
“Do not let him inside. I'll arrange for the appropriate authorities to be contacted if he attempts to enter or threatens you. Keep the conversation documented.””
I thanked her and ended the call.
Grant climbed the porch steps carrying a brown leather folder.
He knocked twice.
I opened the door but stayed behind the threshold.
“What are you doing here?””
He looked tired.
“Can I come in?””
“No.””
He glanced over my shoulder.
“It's my house too.””
I stared at him.
“No, Grant. It isn't.””
He held up the folder.
“I brought something that will help clear this up.””
I didn't take it.
“What is it?””
“Financial documents.””
I almost laughed.
“I'm beginning to dislike that phrase.””
He sighed.
“Audrey, I know things have gotten out of control. But I need you to understand something. I wasn't trying to hurt you.””
“Then why did you submit documents claiming you owned my property?””
“I didn't submit anything.””
“Your name is on the application.””
“Mom handled most of that.””
“Your girlfriend has messages showing you planned to take ownership of the house.””
His expression hardened.
“Vanessa has no idea what she's talking about.””
“She has screenshots.””
He looked away.
I noticed his grip tightening around the folder.
“Look,” he said, “I made mistakes. The affair was a mistake. The paperwork got complicated. But we can fix this without involving lawyers.””
I stared at him.
“You have already involved lawyers. You used my attorney's name on documents she never prepared.””
He stepped closer.
“Elizabeth is making everything worse.””
“Elizabeth is protecting me.””
“She wants to turn this into a criminal investigation.””
“Did you forge my signature?””
He stared at me.
Then he looked down.
That was answer enough.
I stepped back.
“Leave.””
“Just listen.””
“No.””
He lowered his voice.
“If you report this, my business could collapse.””
I felt something inside me go very still.
“Your business?””
He didn't answer.
I continued.
“Did you use my company to apply for a loan?””
His eyes widened.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“Who told you that?””
I shook my head.
“You did.””
He looked furious.
“Vanessa has been talking to you?””
“She came here because she discovered you lied to her.””
“She's unstable.””
“Stop blaming women for your decisions.””
He looked toward the driveway.
Then he said, “You don't understand how much pressure I've been under.””
I crossed my arms.
“Explain it.””
He took a breath.
“My business has been struggling. Two clients canceled contracts. I invested in a commercial development that went wrong. I borrowed money to cover the losses.””
“How much?””
“More than I told you.””
“How much, Grant?””
He looked at the ground.
“Close to six hundred thousand.””
I felt my knees weaken.
Six hundred thousand dollars.
He had been living in my home, driving a car partly paid for with money from our shared household budget, and spending weekends at my lake house while carrying debts he had never disclosed.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I knew you'd judge me.””
I stared at him.
“You were afraid I'd judge you, so you decided to use my property and business without permission?””
“I was trying to find a way out.””
“By putting me in debt?””
He shook his head.
“You're making it sound criminal.””
I looked at the folder in his hand.
“What's inside?””
He hesitated.
Then he handed it over.
I opened it carefully.
The first page was a proposed financial restructuring agreement.
The second was a personal guarantee.
The third contained my company information.
And the fourth contained another signature.
Mine.
But there was something different about this one.
The signature was dated four months earlier.
I looked up.
“Grant, where did you get this?””
He rubbed his face.
“You signed it.””
“No, I didn't.””
“You were busy. You probably don't remember.””
I stared at him.
“Do you really expect me to believe that?””
He raised his voice.
“You signed dozens of documents when we were dealing with the business expansion!””
“Not a personal guarantee for your debt.””
He looked at me.
And then he said something that made the entire situation even worse.
“You were going to benefit from the money too.””
I shook my head.
“How?””
He pointed at the folder.
“The business loan would have given me enough cash to clear the outstanding debts. Once I stabilized things, I would have invested in your company.””
“You were going to borrow money in my company's name to pay your personal debts?””
He didn't answer.
I stepped backward.
“Grant, you need to leave.””
He suddenly looked desperate.
“Audrey, please. I have spent seven years building a life with you.””
“You spent seven years learning how to access my accounts.””
“That's not fair.””
“Then tell me one thing. Did you ever love me?””
His expression shifted.
For a moment, I thought he might finally say something honest.
Instead, he replied:
“I loved what we had.””
I nodded slowly.
That was the closest thing to the truth I had heard from him.
I placed the folder on the porch table.
“Take your things and go.””
He stared at me.
“Where am I supposed to go?””
“That's not my responsibility anymore.””
He reached for my arm.
I stepped away immediately.
“Don't touch me.””
He stopped.
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and rejected the call.
It rang again.
This time, he answered.
“What?””
I could hear a man's voice through the speaker, though I couldn't make out the words.
Grant's expression changed.
“What do you mean the funds are frozen?””
He turned away from me.
“No. That's not possible. The application was approved.””
I stared at him.
He listened for another few seconds.
Then he said something that made my stomach drop.
“Listen, you can't contact Audrey directly. She's my wife.””
The caller continued speaking.
Grant's face went pale.
He ended the call.
I looked at him.
“Who was that?””
“Nobody.””
“Who was it?””
He shoved his phone into his pocket.
“You don't need to know.””
I picked up my own phone.
“Elizabeth needs to know.””
He grabbed the folder from the table.
Then he looked at me with a strange mixture of anger and panic.
“You have no idea what you've just done.””
I held the door open.
“Neither did you.””
He walked down the steps.
Before getting into his SUV, he turned around.
“One day, you'll understand why I had to do this.””
I didn't answer.
I watched him drive away.
Then I locked the door.
My hands were shaking.
I called Elizabeth and explained everything.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she said, “Audrey, I need you to send me photographs of every page in that folder. Don't alter anything.””
“I will.””
“And I want you to check one more thing.””
“What?””
“Your company bank account. Has Grant ever had access to it?””
I opened my laptop.
“No. Only I have signing authority.””
“Good. Check the recent transaction history anyway.””
I logged into the business account.
The balance appeared.
Then I opened the transaction list.
My eyes moved down the screen.
One withdrawal.
Then another.
Then another.
I stopped breathing.
Three transfers had been made over the previous six weeks.
The combined amount was $84,000.
I clicked the first transaction.
The recipient was an unfamiliar consulting company.
I clicked the second.
Another unfamiliar business.
The third transfer showed a reference number.
I copied it and sent it to Elizabeth.
Her response came almost immediately.
*Audrey, don't touch the account any further. I'm checking the recipient details now.*
A minute later, my phone rang.
“Who owns the company that received the first transfer?”” I asked.
Elizabeth sounded grim.
“That's what I was afraid of.””
“Who?””
She paused.
Then she said:
“Grant's mother, Lorraine Bennett.””
I stared at the screen.
The second company had a different registered owner.
But when Elizabeth read me the name, I felt the room tilt.
It belonged to Melissa.
My husband's sister.
And suddenly, the family vote at that dinner table made a terrible kind of sense.
They hadn't simply wanted me away from the anniversary party.
They had wanted me away from the house, away from the documents, and away from the money.
My phone vibrated again.
A new email had arrived from an unknown address.
The subject line read:
*YOU NEED TO KNOW WHAT GRANT AND LORRAINE PLANNED FOR SATURDAY.*
I opened it.
May you like
There was one sentence.
*The anniversary party was never supposed to be the real celebration. It was supposed to be the day they made your disappearance look voluntary.*
