Chapter 9 - THE WOMAN WHO SIGNED NOTHING|
The next morning, Holly brought a forensic document examiner to the hospital.
His name was Samuel Reed, and he had spent thirty years investigating forged signatures, altered contracts, and financial fraud.
He placed three documents on the table.
The first was my original signature from the founding agreement.
The second was the supposed authorization for Rachel's consulting contract.
The third was the transfer document that gave Palmer Strategic Services control over the emergency reserve subsidiary.
“Mrs. Whitmore,” he said, “did you sign these last two documents?”
“No.”
He examined the pages.
“The signatures were copied from an authentic document. The pressure patterns and letter spacing are inconsistent with natural handwriting.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Preliminarily, yes. We would need the original electronic files and metadata for a definitive report.”
Holly nodded.
“We have requested those.”
Samuel turned to the third document.
“This one is more troubling.”
“Why?”
“The signature appears to have been inserted digitally. The document was created using a template from your original agreement.”
I stared at it.
“Can you identify who created it?”
“Not from this copy.”
Holly opened her laptop.
“We have the server records.”
Samuel reviewed them.
Then he looked up.
“The file was created from an account assigned to Grant Whitmore.”
I felt no surprise.
Only exhaustion.
“Can we use this?”
“It is a strong lead. The server logs should be preserved by an independent examiner.”
Holly made notes.
After he left, I called Daniel.
“I want the original trust transferred to independent custody.”
“That's already underway.”
“And I want every document Grant presented to me after Eli was born examined.”
Daniel paused.
“That could include hundreds of pages.”
“Then examine hundreds of pages.”
“I understand.”
When I returned to Eli's room, he was watching a video of a puppy learning to climb stairs.
He laughed when the puppy slid backward.
I sat beside him.
“That's funny,” he said.
“It is.”
“Can we get a puppy?”
“Maybe one day.”
“Dad said we could.”
I looked at him.
“When?”
“Before he stopped coming to bedtime.”
My chest tightened.
“I'll think about it.”
Eli leaned against my arm.
“Can we have a puppy that stays with us?”
I kissed his hair.
“Yes. If we get one, it will stay with us.”
He seemed satisfied.
That afternoon, the hospital's patient advocate brought me a formal incident report.
It confirmed that Grant had contacted the regional network personally to obtain the O-negative units for Sophie.
It also confirmed that the transfer had been made despite a written warning that the units were part of the emergency pediatric reserve.
At the bottom was the name of the network official who approved the override.
I recognized it.
Victor Hale.
I called Holly.
“Victor approved the transfer.”
“Are you sure?”
“His name is on the report.”
Holly's voice became sharp.
“Then he wasn't simply advising Grant. He was involved.”
I looked at the report again.
A handwritten note had been added beside the authorization.
Private family priority. No further review required.
I read the words twice.
Then I noticed the initials.
May you like
G.W.
Grant Whitmore.
