Three Suitcases Left in the Rain and Nineteen Million Dollars in Cancun
He opened the folder to reveal a photocopy of a home equity loan agreement for four hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The collateral listed was the River Oaks house, my home of twenty years. I reached out and touched the edge of the paper.
I rubbed my gold wedding band, sliding the cool metal back and forth over my knuckle. “This is Nathan’s signature on the line.”
Frank tapped his finger on the notary stamp beside the blue ink. “Look closer at the slant of the letters, Cassandra. Nathan has signed every legal document for his business with a backward tilt on the final letter. This signature slants forward.”
“Sable,” I said.
“The notary is her personal accountant, a man named Arthur Vance who has his office on Westheimer,” Frank said, closing the folder with a soft thud. “This is not just greed, Cassandra, this is a criminal offense.”
My thumb pressed hard against my ring. “She took a loan against my house by forging my son’s name.”