Chapter 9 - The Forged Signatures
Daniel arrived at the guesthouse on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, carrying a heavy, encrypted briefcase. He didn't bother with pleasantries. He walked straight to the kitchen counter and pulled out a massive, terrifyingly detailed audit report.
“It’s worse than we thought, Eleanor,” Daniel said, his jaw tight with anger. “Much worse.”
I put the kettle on the stove and leaned against the counter. “Show me.”
Daniel flipped to the first tab. “He has been charging Celeste’s lifestyle to a corporate research and development account for over a year. Designer clothes, luxury spa trips to Aspen, and over fifty thousand dollars in non-refundable wedding deposits for their upcoming ceremony. It’s all categorized as 'client entertainment.'”
“Embezzlement,” I noted, sipping my tea. “Messy, but predictable.”
“That’s just the appetizer,” Daniel said grimly, flipping to the back of the binder. He slid a copy of a massive commercial loan document toward me. “Three months ago, Grant took out a seven-million-dollar loan from the central bank. He secured it against the company’s new cardiovascular patent.”
I frowned, looking at the document. “He doesn't have the authority to leverage company patents. That requires majority shareholder approval.”
“Exactly,” Daniel pointed to the signature line at the bottom of the page. “He forged your signature, Eleanor. He bypassed the board, forged your authorization, and funneled the cash into a private offshore holding company. We tracked the IP addresses. He’s hiding the money to fund his new life.”
I stared at the forged signature. It was a sloppy imitation of my handwriting. “This is a federal crime, Daniel.”
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“This is enough to remove him today,” Daniel urged, closing the binder. “I can have the FBI at his penthouse by midnight.”
“Not yet,” I said softly, looking out the window into the rain. “If we arrest him quietly, he becomes a martyr. I want everyone he used to know to see exactly who he is. We wait for the wedding.”
