Arthur recovered before anyone else in the room.
He straightened his jacket, stepped away from the table, and gave Gabriel Santos the tight, professionally offended smile Dianne had seen him use with contractors and bank managers.
“This has been blown completely out of proportion.”
Santos did not return the smile.
“A woman is sitting beside documents identifying her as your daughter.”
Arthur glanced at Renata as if she were an inconvenience somebody else had brought into the room.
“There was a mistake.”
Dianne almost laughed.
A mistake was forgetting an appointment. A mistake was writing the wrong date on a check. A mistake was not manufacturing an identification card with someone else's name and then carrying it into a notary's office alongside paperwork for a valuable property.
The notary, a compact woman in her fifties named Evelyn Cho, folded her hands on the table.
“Mr. Reed, I asked everyone to remain because several elements of this appointment did not match the verification information attached to the property file.”
Arthur's expression hardened.
“I was told this would be routine.”
“By whom?”
He did not answer.
Celia did.
“Our consultant.”
Santos turned toward her.
“Name.”
Celia looked at Arthur.
Arthur looked back at Santos.
“This is a private transaction.”
“It ceased being private when somebody attempted to authenticate documents under my client's identity.”
Dianne watched Renata.
She had not spoken since Dianne entered.
Up close, the resemblance was weak. They were roughly the same height and build, and Renata's dyed hair helped from a distance, but their faces were not alike enough to fool anyone who had known Dianne personally.
That was what bothered her.
This scheme had not been designed to withstand scrutiny.
It had been designed to move quickly.
Renata kept both hands in her lap.
Dianne noticed one thumbnail had been bitten nearly to the skin.
“Why did you do it?” she asked.
Arthur cut in immediately.
“Don't speak to her.”
Dianne turned.
“That isn't your decision.”
“It is when you clearly don't understand what's happening.”
“There is a fake driver's license with my name on it.”
“You think one piece of paper tells you everything?”
“No. That's why I'm asking questions.”
Celia stood.
“This isn't the place.”
Evelyn Cho's voice stopped her.
“Please remain seated.”
Celia looked offended.
Cho did not care.
“I have suspended the notarization. Nobody is taking any documents from this office until I determine what I am required to preserve.”
Arthur's restraint slipped.
“You don't have authority to hold my documents.”
Cho glanced at the false identification.
“I believe at least one of these documents is not yours.”
Santos opened his briefcase.
“I recommend nobody touch anything until counsel and, if necessary, law enforcement have been consulted.”
Arthur stared at him.
“You always enjoyed dramatics, Gabriel.”
Santos looked almost bored.
“Forgery rarely requires embellishment.”
Renata flinched.
Dianne saw it.
So did Celia.
Celia leaned toward her.
“Don't say anything.”
That did more than any confession could have done.
Dianne stepped closer to the table.
“Renata.”
The young woman looked up.
“You met me once.”
Renata's eyes shifted toward Celia again.
“At dinner.”
“You knew what I looked like.”
A whisper.
“Yes.”
“You knew I was alive.”
“Yes.”
Arthur slapped one palm against the table.
“That's enough.”
Evelyn Cho stood.
“Mr. Reed.”
The entire room went quiet.
“If you disrupt this interview again, I will ask you to leave while preserving the material you brought.”
Arthur looked genuinely shocked that somebody could tell him what to do.
Dianne almost admired Cho for giving him the experience.
Renata's shoulders had begun shaking.
Celia noticed.
“Renata, remember what we discussed.”
Susan, who had remained near the door, spoke for the first time.
“What exactly did you discuss?”
Celia ignored her.
Dianne pulled out the chair opposite Renata and sat.
She did not soften her voice, but she did not sharpen it either.
“Did they pay you?”
Renata closed her eyes.
Arthur said, “This is ridiculous.”
Dianne waited.
Renata opened her eyes again.
“Five thousand.”
Celia went white.
Arthur stopped talking.
Even Santos seemed momentarily surprised.
Dianne leaned forward.
“For what?”
Renata's breath came unevenly.
“They said it was paperwork.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know.”
“That's not true.”
“I swear.”
“Then why did you need identification with my name?”
Renata wiped her palms against her skirt.
“They told me there was a family property and that you were out of the country.”
Dianne stared at her.
“I was at a hotel fifteen minutes away.”
“I didn't know.”
“You met me.”
“I know.”
“Did they tell you I had agreed to this?”
Renata hesitated.
That hesitation mattered.
Dianne waited.
Finally Renata whispered, “They said you had already agreed but couldn't be there.”
Santos turned toward Arthur.
Arthur said nothing.
Dianne asked, “Who is they?”
Renata looked at Celia.
Celia's mouth became a hard line.
Then Renata looked at Arthur.
The answer existed in the direction of her eyes.
Arthur stepped forward.
“You're frightened and confused.”
Renata recoiled slightly.
That movement changed the room.
For the first time, Arthur did not look like the man explaining a misunderstanding.
He looked like someone trying to control a witness.
Santos noticed too.
“Mr. Reed, I strongly suggest you stop addressing her.”
Arthur's face reddened.
Renata suddenly spoke faster.
“Celia called me.”
Celia snapped, “Renata.”
“She called me last week.”
“Stop talking.”
“She said Dianne needed help with some documents because there were complications with an inheritance.”
Dianne's stomach dropped.
Last week.
Not after the exam.
Not after Dianne claimed to fail.
The plan had been operating well before Arthur threw her out.
Renata continued.
“She asked if I'd sign some forms. I said no at first.”
“Why did you change your mind?” Dianne asked.
“My rent is behind.”
Celia looked away.
“They offered five thousand dollars?”
Renata nodded.
“Half before. Half after.”
“Did you receive the first half?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Cash.”
“From Celia?”
Another pause.
“Arthur gave it to her.”
Arthur exploded.
“That's a lie.”
Renata's eyes widened.
“You were there.”
“Enough.”
“You handed her the envelope.”
Arthur pointed at her.
“You have no idea what you're saying.”
Renata looked suddenly furious.
Perhaps fear had exhausted itself.
“You told me it was temporary.”
Everyone went still.
Dianne asked, “What was temporary?”
Renata swallowed.
“The transfer.”
Santos leaned closer.
“What exactly were you told?”
Renata looked at him now.
“That the house would be moved into some company for a little while.”
“A company?”
“Yes.”
“What company?”
“I don't remember the name.”
Arthur laughed harshly.
“This is absurd. She doesn't even know what she signed.”
Renata turned on him.
“You said nobody would lose anything.”
Dianne felt cold.
Nobody would lose anything.
That was not language used for a simple administrative mistake.
Santos took a pad from his briefcase.
“What company?”
Renata pressed her fingers against her forehead.
“Something Holdings.”
“Think.”
“I don't know.”
Celia suddenly stood again.
“Renata, we are leaving.”
Cho blocked the folder with one hand.
“You may leave. The documents stay.”
Celia stared at her.
“Those belong to us.”
“No,” Cho said. “At least some appear connected to an attempted fraudulent notarization.”
Arthur reached for his phone.
Santos said, “Before you call anyone, you should understand that Mrs. Cho's verification system logged the appointment details and identity documents.”
For the first time, Dianne saw something close to fear cross Arthur's face.
It vanished quickly.
But she saw it.
Arthur looked at Dianne.
“You think these people are protecting you?”
Dianne stood.
“I think you're frightened of them.”
“I am your father.”
“That stopped being an answer a long time ago.”
His voice lowered.
“You have no idea what your mother left you.”
The sentence struck harder than Dianne expected.
Santos's head turned.
Susan stiffened.
Dianne looked directly at Arthur.
“What does that mean?”
Arthur's expression changed.
He realized he had said too much.
Celia closed her eyes.
Dianne stepped closer.
“What did Mom leave me?”
Arthur smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
“A problem.”
Susan moved forward.
“Elena's property was not a problem.”
Arthur looked at her with contempt.
“You know less than you think.”
Santos said, “Then enlighten us.”
Arthur's gaze remained on Dianne.
“That house costs money. Taxes. Repairs. Insurance. Your mother left a sentimental eighteen-year-old an asset she has no ability to manage.”
Dianne heard the insult.
Santos heard something else.
“How much is the property worth?”
Arthur's silence answered first.
Dianne looked toward Santos.
“You know?”
“I have an estimate.”
“How much?”
“Dianne—”
“How much?”
Santos hesitated.
“Based on recent comparable properties and its location, several million dollars.”
The number did not feel real.
Dianne had known the brownstone was valuable.
She had not understood how valuable.
Arthur watched comprehension enter her face.
“There,” he said. “Now you understand why adults handle these decisions.”
“No,” Dianne said. “Now I understand why you wanted my signature.”
Arthur stepped toward her.
“You don't know anything about the debt attached to that property.”
Santos frowned.
“What debt?”
Arthur glanced at him.
A second mistake.
Dianne caught it immediately.
Santos opened his briefcase again.
“To my knowledge, the property transferred free of mortgage debt under Elena's estate plan.”
Arthur said nothing.
Susan whispered, “Arthur.”
Dianne looked at her father.
“What debt?”
He turned away.
Santos's expression had become intensely focused.
“Did you encumber that property while Dianne was a minor?”
Arthur spun back.
“No.”
“Did you attempt to?”
“No.”
“Did you pledge an interest related to it?”
“This interrogation is over.”
He headed for the door.
Dianne moved aside rather than blocking him.
She wanted him to leave angry.
Angry people made mistakes.
Celia followed.
At the doorway, she stopped beside Renata.
“If you think they care what happens to you, you're stupid.”
Renata's face crumpled.
Dianne said, “Leave her alone.”
Celia looked at Dianne.
For the first time that night, the polished stepmother disappeared entirely.
“You have no idea what you've done.”
Dianne held her gaze.
“Neither do you.”
Celia left.
The door closed.
Silence filled the conference room.
Renata began crying quietly.
Dianne did not comfort her.
She was not ready.
Santos sat beside the notary and began reviewing the documents.
Susan stood behind him.
After several minutes, Santos stopped.
His finger rested on one page.
“This isn't merely a power of attorney.”
Dianne moved beside him.
“What is it?”
He pointed to the corporate name printed in the transfer package.
REED URBAN HOLDINGS LLC.
Dianne read it twice.
“I've never heard of that.”
Santos looked at Susan.
Neither spoke.
Dianne's pulse accelerated.
“Who owns it?”
Cho turned her computer screen toward them.
“I checked the filing after the identity issue arose.”
She enlarged a public corporate record.
The entity had been created eleven days earlier.
Registered manager:
Arthur Reed.
Dianne stared.
Her father had not been preparing to manage her property.
He had been preparing to move it somewhere he controlled.
Then Santos scrolled further.
A second name appeared under an attached financing disclosure.
The lender was a private company Dianne did not recognize.
But the amount did not require explanation.
$1,850,000.
Dianne whispered, “What is that?”
Santos's expression darkened.
“It appears somebody expected to borrow against the property almost immediately after transferring it.”
Dianne looked at the documents waiting beside Renata's abandoned pen.
The plan finally became visible.
Throw her out.
Make her desperate.
If she signed, Arthur gained control.
If she refused, someone else would sign in her place.
And once the property entered his company, nearly two million dollars could disappear before Dianne understood what had happened.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: My Mother Had Left One Hidden Condition on the House, and My Father Had Spent Years Making Sure I Never Discovered It
I Had the Score My Father Wanted, but His Reaction to My Lie Confirmed the Fear I Could Never Prove
Part 5 of 27
