Chapter 10 - The Woman Who Signed Her Name)
The resemblance lasted only until Alison’s car stopped beneath the loading-bay light.
The woman was a few years younger and slightly taller. Her red wig copied Alison’s hair, and professional makeup reshaped the shadows around her nose and jaw. From a distance, in a passport photograph or grainy security image, she could become Alison Mercer long enough to pass an inattentive witness.
Up close, she looked exhausted and afraid.
Gregory opened the driver’s door. “Bag on the seat. Hands where I can see them.”
“Where is Abigail?”
“You saw her.”
“Let her and Naomi walk out.”
“After the closing.”
He noticed Celia in the passenger seat and frowned. “You were told to disappear.”
“Victor told me to bring my stamp,” Celia lied.
For a moment Gregory’s uncertainty was visible. Naomi’s note had been correct. He was following Victor’s orders without knowing the entire plan.
Gregory searched Alison’s coat and handbag. He removed the cloned flash drive, keys, and wallet. His fingers passed over the disguised transmitter clasp without pausing. He then ordered both women out of the car.
The red-haired double watched silently.
“What is your name?” Alison asked her.
“Do not speak to her,” Gregory said.
The woman’s eyes met Alison’s. “Mara.”
Gregory grabbed her arm. “Go inside.”
Mara pulled away from him, but she obeyed.
The closing room resembled a stage built to imitate legitimacy. A polished table stood beneath hanging lights. Water bottles, legal pads, and presentation folders had been arranged at each chair. A camera on a tripod faced the signature position. Behind the table, a banner displayed the Lakefront Renewal logo with the Reed knot removed.
Victor Dane waited by the windows.
Alison had known him publicly as Victor Vane. The name Dane appeared on property records as the manager of a consulting company. Like his son, he had built separate identities for separate uses.
Silver-haired and broad-shouldered, Victor wore a dark suit without a tie. He greeted Alison as if she had arrived late to a business meeting.
“Your father made the same mistake you are making,” he said. “He confused obstruction with principle.”
“My father kept you from stealing.”
“Your father prevented a neighborhood from receiving investment for thirty years.”
“By refusing to give you his property?”
“By clinging to a dead covenant created for horse carts.”
Victor pointed toward a chair. Alison remained standing.
“Bring my daughter downstairs.”
“When the documents are complete.”
“Then there is no closing.”
Gregory placed one hand between Alison’s shoulder blades and forced her forward. The transmitter in her handbag was now across the room, but the second device remained sewn into her dress.
“Careful,” Victor told him. “We need her to appear willing.”
Gregory released her at once.
The camera mattered. The independent lawyer had demanded an in-person signature, but Victor intended to create video evidence of consent and send it before the midnight financing deadline. Alison needed him to explain that on the record.
“Why use Mara if you have me?” she asked.
Victor smiled. “Redundancy. Every successful project has it.”
Mara stood near the exit, rubbing her arm. Alison noticed a county identification badge clipped inside Naomi’s stolen coat. Mara had likely impersonated her for the power of attorney filing.
Celia placed her stamp on the table. “I need to inspect the identification and every page before witnessing anything.”
“You have never needed that before,” Gregory said.
“The lender’s counsel will review the recording. If I skip required steps, the video hurts you.”
Victor nodded for her to proceed.
Celia examined Alison’s passport, then the purchase agreement. She deliberately read each page at a painful pace. Gregory watched the clock. Victor watched Alison.
“You knew Michael,” Alison said.
Gregory’s attention snapped toward his father.
Victor did not answer.
“Your son said Michael carried the covenant when he died.”
“Gregory says many things when he feels ignored.”
“Was Michael working with my father?”
“Your husband asked questions. Then he stopped.”
“Because he died.”
Victor’s expression remained calm. “Accidents are the punctuation of life, Mrs. Mercer. People create meaning afterward because randomness frightens them.”
Gregory looked relieved. It was the relief of a son who had also never received a clear answer.
Celia reached the signature page. With her left hand, hidden behind the folder, she bent one corner downward. That was the agreed signal that she had located an original bearing her altered stamp.
Then she found a second marked page.
And a third.
Years of fraud sat on the table in front of the camera.
Alison glanced toward the ceiling. “Abigail needs to see me before I sign.”
Victor shook his head.
“Then I want Naomi.”
“Your lawyer is occupied.”
“She is the bank’s independent counsel. Her approval is the entire reason you need this performance. If she is not here to approve it, the recording is useless.”
Victor’s jaw tightened. Alison had forced him to choose between revealing Naomi and undermining the purpose of the closing.
He pressed a button on an intercom. “Bring Price down.”
Footsteps sounded above them.
While everyone looked toward the mezzanine, Mara moved close to Alison and whispered without moving her lips.
“The child escaped the archive ten minutes ago.”
Alison kept her face still.
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Victor doesn’t know yet.”
“Why are you helping?”
Mara’s eyes filled with tears. “Because the last woman I copied never came home.”
The freight elevator descended with a mechanical groan.
Its doors opened.
Naomi stood inside with her hands tied, blood at the corner of her lip but her posture unbroken. A guard held her by one arm.
Abigail was not with her.
Victor looked into the empty space behind them.
“Where is the girl?” he asked.
May you like
The guard’s face changed.
From somewhere inside the brewery, the fire alarm began to ring.
