Chapter 6 - Arthur's SignatureThe Dead Man Had Apparently Signed AgainNo one spoke.
Elaine looked from the document to me.
"Can you authenticate this signature?"
I touched the page.
Arthur's handwriting was unmistakable.
The loop in the A.
The short crossbar.
The slight downward pressure at the end.
I had watched those hands sign mortgage papers, birthday cards, grocery lists, and our anniversary notes.
Arthur had been dead for four years.
"He did not sign this."
Elaine nodded.
"We know."
I looked at her.
"You know?"
"The filing contains a date after his death."
Sarah made a choking sound.
David sat down.
Elaine continued.
"The document attempts to establish an interest in this property based on an alleged agreement between your husband and another party."
"Who?"
She turned the page.
The name was there.
I read it.
Then I looked at Sarah.
She went rigid.
It was her father.
Robert Bell.
Sarah's father.
I turned to her.
"What is this?"
"I don't know."
Elaine didn't blink.
"The alleged agreement would have required Mr. Holden to acknowledge a financial arrangement."
I looked at David.
He looked horrified.
"I never heard of this."
Sarah shook her head.
"This is fake."
Elaine closed the folder.
"We agree."
She handed me a business card.
"We will contact you again."
After she left, David turned on Sarah.
"What did your father do?"
"Nothing."
"There are papers with his name."
"I told you, I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
She slammed her hand on the table.
"Yes!"
Her voice cracked.
"You should believe me."
David stared at her.
I did not.
Sarah walked upstairs.
The house became silent.
Then David whispered,
"Mom."
"What?"
"I need to tell you something else."
I waited.
He pulled out his phone.
"I found these."
It was a text conversation between Sarah and her father.
The messages were from six weeks earlier.
One message from Robert read:
You need to establish a financial connection before the old woman catches on.
Sarah replied:
She thinks we're only staying six months.
Robert:
That's enough time if you do it correctly.
My hands went cold.
Another message.
Get David to make the payments. It will look cleaner.
I looked up.
David was crying.
"How did you get those?"
"Sarah's tablet was synced to my phone."
I kept scrolling.
Another message.
Then another.
Robert had researched the trust.
He knew about Arthur's estate.
He knew the house was worth more than eight hundred thousand.
And he had a plan.
The final message was from Sarah.
What if Priscilla refuses?
Robert replied:
Then make her doubt herself.
I stopped.
That sentence explained everything.
The pantry.
The sewing room.
The bedroom.
The refrigerator.
The household agreement.
The constant insistence that I was unreasonable.
They had not been testing my patience.
They had been testing my resistance.
David covered his face.
"I'm sorry."
I looked at him.
"Do you still want to defend her?"
He didn't answer.
Then we heard a sound upstairs.
A crash.
David stood.
I grabbed the staircase rail.
We ran upstairs.
The bedroom door was open.
Sarah's suitcase was gone.
So was the portable scanner.
The window stood open.
I rushed to the driveway.
A black sedan was disappearing down the street.
I recognized the shape.
It was Robert's car.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
You should have signed the agreement when you had the chance.
A second message came immediately after.
Now we're doing this the hard way.
I stared at the screen.
David read over my shoulder.
"Who sent that?"
"I don't know."
The phone buzzed again.
A photograph appeared.
It showed my front door.
Taken from the street.
A timestamp from five minutes earlier.
Someone was watching my house.
Again.
Only this time, there was a note written over the image.
You have 72 hours.
I looked at David.
"What happens in seventy-two hours?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
Then he went quiet.
May you like
Because somewhere downstairs, my front-door lock clicked.
Someone had just entered the house.
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