Chapter 8: What the Examiner Found
The forensic document examiner's name was Roland Voss.
He had testified in over two hundred cases.
Claire had used him before and described him as meticulous to the point of being difficult, which she said as a compliment.
His report arrived on a Thursday, twelve days after Claire submitted the documents.
I read it in her office, sitting across from her desk while she watched my face.
The report was forty-one pages.
The conclusion was on page three.
*The signature appearing on the Amendment to Participation Agreement dated prior to the divorce settlement does not match the known exemplars of Mara Ellison's signature across seventeen reference documents.
Specific inconsistencies include pen pressure, letter formation in the first name, and baseline angle.
It is the opinion of this examiner, to a reasonable degree of professional certainty, that the signature on the Amendment was not produced by Mara Ellison.*
I set the report on Claire's desk.
"It's enough," Claire said.
"Yes."
"The DA's office has already received a copy.
They called me this morning before you arrived." She folded her hands.
"They're opening a formal investigation.
Grant will likely be notified within the week."
I looked at the window.
The street below was ordinary — people walking, a delivery truck double-parked, a woman pushing a stroller.
"What about Patricia and Donna?" I asked.
"Both have submitted their documents.
The examiner is reviewing Donna's redemption paperwork now.
Patricia's is already flagged — the redemption notice she received contains language that mirrors yours almost exactly.
Same clause structure.
Same attorney name."
"Dennis Farwell."
"Dennis Farwell." Claire paused.
"Who, as of this morning, has agreed to cooperate with the DA's office in exchange for consideration on a separate matter."
The room was very quiet.
"He's going to testify," I said.
"He's going to testify," Claire confirmed.
"He says Grant directed the alterations.
He says he raised concerns and was told the investors would never compare notes because they didn't know each other."
My throat tightened.
"He was right.
We didn't."
"Until Matthew Rowan read a place card at a wedding reception," Claire said.
I almost laughed.
The absurdity of it — the specific, improbable chain of events.
Grant had sent me an invitation to humiliate me.
Matthew had been at the wedding because his daughter was the bride.
His firm had flagged the discrepancy because Grant had pitched them a new project.
And I had been seated close enough to Matthew for him to read my name.
Grant had built the trap himself.
He had just assumed he was the one who would walk away from it.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"Now we wait for the DA to move," Claire said.
"The restraining order is holding.
The Harborstone structure is frozen.
Grant's attorneys have filed two motions to dissolve it — both were denied."
She slid another document across the desk.
"This came this morning as well," she said.
"From Grant's personal attorney.
Not the firm.
His personal attorney."
I looked at it.
It was a settlement offer.
Not the two hundred and forty thousand from before.
The number at the top was one point four million.
Full value.
No conditions.
No confidentiality clause.
"He's trying to settle before the criminal investigation gets traction," Claire said.
"Can he do that?
Settle civilly while a criminal investigation is open?"
"He can try.
It doesn't stop the DA." She watched me.
"The decision is yours.
You can take the money now, or you can let the investigation run its course.
Taking the settlement doesn't protect him from prosecution."
I looked at the number.
One point four million dollars.
The money that had been mine for five years while I rebuilt everything without it.
The money that had funded projects I had never seen, returns I had never received, a life Grant had built on a foundation he had stolen.
"What would you do?" I asked.
Claire was quiet for a moment.
"I'd take the money," she said.
"And I'd let the DA do the rest."
May you like
I looked at the document for a long time.
Then I picked up the pen.
