Chapter 17 - ELEVEN DAYS AFTER THOMAS DIEDNathan requested the archived Ridgeway records that afternoon.
The bank no longer existed under the same name, but its records had survived through two mergers.
Digital scans.
Microfilm.
Old signature cards.
Transaction confirmations.
Three days later, Nathan called Emily and Daniel into his office.
A thick folder waited on his desk.
“The account contained one hundred seventy-nine thousand four hundred dollars when Thomas died.”
Daniel looked at the papers.
“What happened to it?”
“Most of it went here.”
Nathan turned one page.
CARTER CARE CONSULTING.
Emily recognized the name immediately.
The paper company Margaret had continued operating after Thomas’s death.
The company through which hundreds of thousands of dollars had moved.
Nathan tapped another document.
“This authorization instructed Ridgeway to liquidate the entire account.”
Emily read the date.
Eleven days after Thomas’s funeral.
“And Thomas supposedly signed this?”
“Yes.”
Daniel stared at his father’s name.
The signature looked real.
Almost.
He had spent years signing birthday cards beside his father.
Thomas always crossed the final T with a long downward stroke.
This one bent upward.
Daniel whispered, “That’s not his.”
Nathan nodded.
“A handwriting expert agrees.”
Emily leaned back.
“Gerald?”
“Possibly.”
Gerald Pike had notarized fraudulent documents for Margaret before eventually cooperating with prosecutors.
But this document carried no notary stamp.
Instead, a Ridgeway employee had written:
VERIFIED BY TELEPHONE.
Daniel looked up.
“With a dead man?”
Nathan’s expression remained serious.
“That’s what we need to understand.”
The money had not stayed inside Carter Care Consulting.
Within forty-eight hours, it split into three transactions.
Seventy thousand toward Margaret’s mortgage.
Forty-five thousand into a brokerage account.
Sixty-four thousand transferred to something called Ridgeway Property Reserve.
Emily pointed.
“What’s that?”
Nathan turned another page.
“A holding account attached to a property.”
“What property?”
Nathan slid a photograph across the desk.
A small blue house.
White porch.
Two maple trees.
Daniel stopped breathing.
“I know that place.”
Emily turned.
“You do?”
“My father took me there once.”
He was eight.
Maybe nine.
Thomas had driven him beyond town on a Saturday afternoon.
They ate hamburgers in the car.
Thomas showed him a small blue house surrounded by tall grass.
Someday, his father had said, maybe we'll live somewhere quiet.
Daniel had forgotten the memory.
Or buried it.
Nathan asked, “Did Margaret know about it?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel looked again.
Then remembered something else.
“She was furious that night.”
“About what?”
“Dad getting home late.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“No.”
Emily recognized the expression.
A memory opening.
“Daniel?”
“He told her we went shopping.”
“For what?”
“Nothing. We didn’t buy anything.”
Thomas had lied.
Not to hurt Margaret.
To hide something from her.
Nathan checked the property records.
The blue house had once belonged to Ridgeway Property Reserve LLC.
Thomas Carter was the original manager.
Four months before his death, he had purchased it outright.
Three months after his death, the company ownership changed.
Margaret Carter became manager.
Six months later, the house was sold.
The authorization transferring control contained Thomas’s signature.
Again.
After his death.
Daniel stood beside Nathan’s window.
“What was Dad doing?”
Emily knew.
“He was preparing somewhere to go.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Thomas had not simply imagined leaving Margaret.
He had purchased the place from which he intended to begin again.
And Margaret had taken that too.
Nathan picked up the phone.
“There’s someone we need to call.”
“Who?”
“Peter.”
Daniel turned.
May you like
Nathan continued.
“Because according to the closing documents, Peter Carter witnessed Thomas’s original purchase.”
