Chapter 5 - THE BRACELET THAT DID NOT BELONG TO HER|
Eva recovered first.
“Marcus gave it to me,” she said. “If there's a problem, you should discuss it with him.”
Hugh did not look at his grandson.
“I intend to.”
He extended his hand.
“Remove it, please.”
Eva's lips parted.
“Excuse me?”
“The bracelet belonged to my wife. It was placed in the Whitmore family collection after her death. It was never intended to be given away.”
Marcus pushed his chair back.
“I thought it was one of the pieces Grandmother left to me.”
“You thought incorrectly.”
“You told me I could take whatever I wanted from the collection.”
“I told you that you could choose a personal keepsake. Not remove an heirloom without consulting the trustees.”
Eva slowly unclasped the bracelet.
When she placed it in Hugh's hand, I noticed that her fingers were trembling.
Hugh closed his palm around it.
“Thank you.”
The server returned to the dining room, and the meal resumed, but the atmosphere had changed. Every guest understood that Hugh had not merely corrected Eva's manners.
He had challenged Marcus's judgment.
After dinner, Hugh asked me to join him in the library.
Marcus followed us.
“I think Laura and I should speak privately,” he said.
Hugh shut the library door.
“You've had six months to speak privately. You used that time to lie to your wife and embarrass this family.”
Marcus's face reddened.
“I'm still your grandson.”
“And I am still capable of recognizing foolishness when it sits in my chair.”
I almost smiled.
Hugh gestured toward a leather armchair.
“Laura, please sit.”
I did.
He opened a drawer in his desk and removed a thick envelope.
“I have a question for you.”
“Of course.”
“Have you ever signed any documents transferring your interest in the Whitmore charitable trust?”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“Have you authorized anyone to use your signature on financial statements?”
“No. Why?”
He exchanged a glance with Marcus.
My husband looked genuinely alarmed.
“Grandfather, what is this?”
Hugh placed several printed pages on the desk.
“These documents appear to show that Laura approved a change to the voting structure of the Whitmore Family Foundation.”
I picked up the first page.
My name was at the bottom.
The signature looked almost exactly like mine.
Almost.
I had spent years signing contracts for the foundation. I knew the slight upward curve at the end of my surname, the pressure of my pen, the way I crossed the final letter.
The signature on that page was too careful.
Someone had copied the shape without understanding the hand that made it.
“I didn't sign this.”
“I suspected as much.”
Marcus stared at the papers.
“Why would anyone forge Laura's signature?”
Hugh's eyes remained on him.
“That is what I intend to find out.”
A cold sensation moved through my chest.
“Does this have anything to do with Eva?”
Neither man answered immediately.
Then Hugh said something that changed the direction of the entire evening.
“Laura, the foundation has been losing money for months. And the documents suggest that someone has been preparing to transfer a significant portion of its assets without the board's knowledge.”
I looked at Marcus.
May you like
He looked back at me.
For the first time in six months, I could not tell whether my husband was frightened because he had done something terrible—or because he had just discovered that someone else had done it using his name.
