Chapter 6 - A Signature That Wasn’t HisDarius called Camille before he answered her email.
“I was in the air.”
“You’re sure?”
“I have the itinerary.”
“Send it.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means we verify before assuming.”
“Camille.”
“It could be a delegated electronic signature. It could be clerical. It could be something worse.”
“My mother had my login.”
Camille was silent.
“How?”
“She helped set up the company document portal.”
“Change your password.”
He did.
Then he changed his email password.
Then his banking password.
By evening paranoia had begun infecting ordinary objects.
Every automatic payment looked suspicious.
Every forwarded email looked intentional.
Every old instruction from Denise sounded different in hindsight.
At seven, Monique texted.
Can we talk?
He ignored it.
At seven-ten:
I found something else.
He responded.
Send it to Camille. Do not delete anything.
A minute later Monique called.
“What did you find?” Darius asked.
“A screenshot from Denise.”
“Send it.”
“You need context.”
“I’ve had enough context for a lifetime.”
“Darius, Adrian knew about your father’s trust.”
Silence.
“How?”
“I told him.”
Darius closed his eyes.
“Of course you did.”
“I didn’t understand how serious it was.”
“You discussed my family finances with the man you were sleeping with?”
“Yes.”
The simplicity hurt.
“What did he say?”
“He asked questions about the company.”
“When?”
“After I told him about the transfers.”
“Why?”
“He said he could help me understand them.”
Darius laughed bitterly.
“Commercial real-estate consultant just happens to be sleeping with the owner’s wife.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds exactly like what it is.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“That’s the part I’m not sure about anymore.”
Darius paused.
“What are you saying?”
“Adrian mentioned Greenhouse before I ever told him the company name.”
Darius straightened.
“When?”
“I didn’t notice at the time.”
“Exact words.”
“We were having dinner. He said something like, ‘If Denise is moving money through Greenhouse, she’s taking a dangerous risk.’”
“And you hadn’t told him that name?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think?”
“I went back through the messages. I didn’t.”
Darius’s anger shifted direction.
“Send everything to Camille.”
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“Adrian brokered a property sale involving Greenhouse.”
Darius stood.
“What property?”
“A condominium project called Riverline.”
The name was familiar.
A development south of downtown had failed after construction financing collapsed.
Greenhouse had lost money there.
“How do you know?”
“Adrian sent me an old commission statement.”
“Why?”
“He was trying to prove he understood the deal.”
“How much did he make?”
“Eighty-two thousand dollars.”
Darius became very still.
Monique continued.
“I think Adrian knew your mother before he knew me.”
“Ask him.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He stopped responding.”
Darius looked at the printout of the suspicious consent.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Is my mother there?”
“No.”
“Has she contacted Adrian?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t warn either of them about what we’re checking.”
Monique exhaled.
“So now you trust me?”
“No.”
The answer hurt her.
He heard it in the silence.
“But I believe information when it can be verified.”
“Fair.”
Darius almost ended the call.
Then Monique said, “I know I don’t deserve to ask this.”
“Then don’t.”
“Were you really on a plane when that document was signed?”
His grip tightened.
“How do you know about that?”
Another silence.
“Monique.”
“I saw a similar consent in Denise’s office.”
His heart accelerated.
“When?”
“January.”
“What was different?”
“It had your signature.”
“So?”
“The signature was already there.”
Darius frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“You were standing downstairs talking to a contractor.”
His pulse kicked.
“I watched Denise open the file, attach your signature and send it.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“She had a saved image?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Monique started crying.
“Because by then she knew about Adrian.”
Darius closed his eyes.
The blackmail had not merely hidden an affair.
It had silenced a witness.
“How long have you known she was signing things for me?”
“Months.”
“And you let me walk into meetings thinking everything was normal.”
“Yes.”
He pressed his fist against his mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying that like eventually the words will become money in an account.”
“I know.”
“No, Monique. You don’t.”
He ended the call.
Ten minutes later Camille called.
She had reviewed the airline records.
The consent signature timestamp occurred thirty-two minutes after Darius’s flight departed.
Camille’s voice was controlled.
“We are not calling this forgery yet.”
“What are we calling it?”
“A document bearing your electronic signature that appears to have been executed when you could not have personally executed it.”
“That’s lawyer language for forgery.”
“It’s lawyer language for not making a criminal accusation before we have metadata.”
Darius stared at his bare ring finger.
“Get the metadata.”
“I already requested it.”
“When?”
“Five minutes ago.”
“How?”
Camille sounded almost amused.
“Unlike your family, Darius, I tell people what I’m doing.”
For the first time in three days, he nearly smiled.
Then she added:
“The lender responded.”
His smile vanished.
“They have another consent bearing your signature.”
“How many?”
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“Seven.”
And every one of them predated the affair.
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