Chapter 3: Patricia
I replayed the footage four times.
Not because I needed to understand it.
Because I needed to believe I had heard it correctly.
What about Patricia?
Julian knew the notary’s name.
That changed everything.
Until that moment, I could still imagine a version of events where Richard had acted alone.
Maybe he had copied my signature.
Maybe he had found a reckless notary.
Maybe Julian knew nothing.
That possibility disappeared in seven words.
You said the bank wouldn’t contact her.
I sent the clip to Dana.
Then I called.
She answered on the first ring.
“Tell me you watched it.””
“I’m watching it now.””
I waited.
Twenty seconds.
Thirty.
Then Dana said, “Do not delete the original.””
“I won’t.””
“Back it up in two places.””
“Already done.””
“Charlotte.””
“Yes?””
“This is no longer just a divorce strategy.””
“I know.””
“Good.””
Her tone was different now.
Less attorney managing an angry spouse.
More attorney standing at the edge of something dangerous.
“I’m sending the clip to our investigator.””
“Who is Patricia?””
“We may know soon.””
“Julian knows her.””
“Apparently.””
“Which means he knew about the loan.””
“Possibly.””
“He said the bank wasn’t supposed to contact me.””
“That suggests knowledge. It doesn’t tell us how much.””
I hated that Dana was right.
I wanted clean conclusions.
Richard forged the signature.
Julian helped.
Patricia lied.
Done.
But evidence didn’t work that way.
Neither did betrayal.
Betrayal arrived in pieces.
A strange transaction.
A missing document.
A sentence overheard through a camera.
One piece rarely destroyed you.
It was the picture they eventually formed.
At 6:30 that evening, I ate a turkey sandwich alone in temporary quarters.
Richard called six times.
Julian called once.
Evelyn called twice.
Then Melissa, Richard’s sister, called.
I almost ignored her.
Something made me answer.
“Hello?””
“Charlotte?””
She sounded nervous.
“Yes.””
“Can we talk?””
“Depends.””
“I’m not calling for Richard.””
I waited.
“I’m calling because something is wrong.””
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What do you mean?””
“Richard is acting strange.””
“That’s not new.””
“I’m serious.””
“So am I.””
Melissa exhaled.
“I went back to the house this afternoon because Mom left her reading glasses there.””
I stood.
“Okay.””
“Richard and Julian were in the garage.””
“What were they doing?””
“I don’t know. They stopped talking when I walked in.””
“Did you hear anything?””
Another pause.
“Your name.””
My pulse quickened.
“What about my name?””
“I heard Julian say, ‘Charlotte can prove where she was.’”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
Confirmation.
“What else?””
“That’s all.””
“Melissa.””
“I swear.””
She sounded close to tears.
“I asked Richard what was happening, and he told me it was business.””
“Did he say anything about a loan?””
Silence.
That silence answered me before she did.
“Melissa.””
“There was something last year.””
I sat down.
“What?””
“I didn’t think it mattered.””
“Tell me.””
“Richard asked me whether you two kept your finances separate.””
“When?””
“October, maybe.””
A month before the notarization.
“What did you say?””
“That I didn’t know.””
“What exactly did he ask?””
“He wanted to know if you had to sign personally if he borrowed against the company.””
My skin prickled.
“And?””
“I told him I’m a dental hygienist, not a lawyer.””
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Melissa continued.
“Then he asked whether I remembered who notarized Dad’s estate paperwork.””
Patricia.
I already knew before I asked.
“Who did?””
“Patty Lowe.””
I stood again.
“Patricia Lowe?””
“Yes.””
The room seemed to shrink.
“How does Richard know her?””
“She used to work for Dad.””
Doing what?””
“Bookkeeping.””
I walked toward the window.
“When?””
“Years ago. Before you met Richard.””
“Does she still work for the family?””
“No.””
“Why not?””
Melissa hesitated.
“I don’t know.””
“You do.””
“No, I really don’t know exactly.””
“Exactly?””
“Dad fired her.””
“For what?””
“I heard different things.””
“Tell me one.””
“Missing money.””
I stopped moving.
“How much?””
“I don’t know. Richard always said Dad overreacted.””
Of course he did.
“Where is Patricia now?””
“I have no idea.””
“Does your mother?””
“Probably.””
I looked at the clock.
6:47 p.m.
“Melissa, don’t tell Richard you called me.””
“I wasn’t planning to.””
“And don’t ask your mother about Patricia yet.””
“Why?””
“Because I need to understand something before people start changing their stories.””
Her breathing changed.
“Charlotte, what did Richard do?””
I stared at the gray wall.
I wanted to tell her.
Instead I said, “I’m figuring that out.””
After we disconnected, I immediately called Dana.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she said, “Our investigator found Patricia.””
“That fast?””
“She wasn’t difficult to locate.””
“Where?””
“Richmond area.””
“What does she do?””
“Mobile notary services and bookkeeping.””
“Convenient.””
“Very.””
“Any connection to Richard?””
“Publicly? Nothing recent.””
“But?””
“But our investigator found something interesting.””
I waited.
“Patricia’s current business address is a suite in a commercial building.””
“So?””
“The leaseholder for that suite is a company called JRB Holdings.””
I had never heard of it.
“Who owns JRB?””
“We’re still confirming.””
My phone buzzed.
A text.
Evelyn.
Please call me. I need to tell you something about Richard.
I stared at it.
“Dana.””
“Yes?””
“His mother wants to talk.””
“About what?””
“She says Richard.””
Dana paused.
“Be careful what you disclose.””
“I know.””
“And record your own notes immediately afterward.””
“I know.””
“You military people are exhausting.””
“That’s why you charge me by the hour.””
She laughed once.
Then became serious.
“Charlotte, one more thing.””
“What?””
“The lender responded to our notice.””
My stomach tightened.
“And?””
“They claim they performed identity verification before closing.””
“That verification was wrong.””
“Obviously.””
“How?””
“They say a copy of your driver’s license was submitted.””
I went still.
“My license?””
“Yes.””
I instinctively reached for my wallet.
My current license was there.
“Could be a photocopy.””
“Likely.””
Richard had access to that.
Insurance renewals.
Travel reservations.
Household records.
“What else?””
Dana hesitated.
“Charlotte, they also have an email authorization supposedly from you.””
I sat down slowly.
“From my email address?””
“Not your military account.””
“My personal?””
“An address using your name.””
I understood immediately.
“A fake account.””
“Looks that way.””
“How close?””
“One letter different.””
I felt sick.
This wasn’t one impulsive forged signature.
Someone had built a version of me.
A signature.
An identification document.
An email address.
A notarized appearance.
Enough pieces to make a lender believe I had consented.
“That takes planning,” I said.
“Yes.””
“How long?””
“Probably weeks. Maybe months.””
I thought about Richard asking Melissa about our finances in October.
The loan closed in November.
The strange withdrawals started later.
“What happens now?””
“Now we preserve everything and determine who participated.””
My other phone buzzed again.
Evelyn.
Charlotte, please. Before Richard gets home.
I looked at the message.
“He isn’t home.””
“Who?””
“Richard. His mother says she needs to speak before he gets home.””
“Where is she?””
“I don’t know.””
“Don’t go anywhere alone.””
“I won’t.””
I called Evelyn.
She answered immediately.
“Charlotte?””
Her voice was shaking.
“What happened?””
“Richard left.””
“Where did he go?””
“I don’t know. He took Julian.””
“Why are you at the house?””
“I came to get some things.””
I glanced at the security app.
She was telling the truth.
The foyer camera showed Evelyn standing near the stairs.
Alone.
“What do you need to tell me?””
She lowered her voice anyway.
“I found something.””
“What?””
“In Richard’s office.””
My heartbeat quickened.
“You searched his office?””
“No. He left a drawer open.””
I didn’t believe that explanation for a second, but I didn’t care.
“What did you find?””
“Papers.””
“What papers?””
“I don’t understand them.””
“Take pictures.””
“I already did.””
That surprised me.
“Send them.””
A moment later, images arrived.
The first was a bank statement.
Business account.
The second was a handwritten list.
Numbers.
Initials.
Dates.
The third made me sit upright.
It was a photocopy of my driver’s license.
My face.
My information.
Across the top, someone had written:
C.H. VERIFIED.
Below that was a handwritten email address.
One letter different from mine.
My fake identity.
Right there in Richard’s desk.
“Evelyn.””
“I know.””
“Did you touch these?””
“Yes.””
“Put them back exactly where they were.””
“Charlotte, what is this?””
“Put them back.””
She began crying.
“I knew his business was struggling. I didn’t know—”
“Evelyn.””
“I’m sorry.””
Her voice broke.
“I’m so sorry.””
“For what?””
Silence.
My entire body tensed.
“Evelyn, what are you sorry for?””
“I gave him something.””
“When?””
“Months ago.””
“What?””
“He said he needed old documents for the house.””
I stood.
“What documents?””
“The closing file from when you bought it.””
My chest tightened.
“Why did you have that?””
“Because some of Harold’s old papers were mixed into it after the tax sale. I kept copies.””
“And you gave them to Richard?””
“He said he needed to compare property descriptions.””
“What was in the file?””
“I don’t remember.””
“Yes, you do.””
She began crying harder.
“Your purchase agreement.””
I closed my eyes.
“What else?””
“Copies of some signed documents.””
There it was.
A source for my signature.
Maybe not the only source.
But a source.
“I didn’t know,” Evelyn whispered.
I believed her.
That somehow made it worse.
“Anything else?””
She was quiet.
Then she said, “There was an old letter from Patricia.””
My eyes opened.
“What letter?””
“From after Harold fired her.””
“What did it say?””
“I don’t remember exactly.””
“Try.””
Evelyn took a shaky breath.
“She said Harold had blamed her for money Richard took.””
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?””
“She claimed Richard had used company checks without permission.””
“When?””
“Years ago.””
“How old was he?””
“Thirty.””
Not a reckless teenager.
A grown man.
“What happened?””
“Harold covered the losses.””
Of course.
“And Patricia?””
“She was fired.””
“For something Richard did?””
“I never knew who was telling the truth.””
I looked at the photograph of my fake email address.
I knew now.
“Where is that letter?””
“It should have been in the file.””
“Should have?””
“It isn’t here.””
My pulse quickened.
“Evelyn, leave the house.””
“What?””
“Put everything back and leave.””
“Why?””
“Because Richard may realize what he left behind.””
“I can wait—”
“No.””
My voice came out sharper than intended.
“Leave now.””
She went quiet.
Then:
“All right.””
I opened the security cameras.
Watched Evelyn return the papers.
Close the drawer.
Walk downstairs.
She reached the foyer.
Then stopped.
Headlights swept across the front windows.
Evelyn froze.
So did I.
A vehicle pulled into the driveway.
Richard’s truck.
“Charlotte,” Evelyn whispered.
“I see it.””
The driver’s door opened.
Richard stepped out.
Julian climbed out from the passenger side.
But they weren’t alone.
A woman got out of the back seat.
Late fifties.
Short blond hair.
Dark coat.
Leather document bag clutched against her chest.
Evelyn made a sound I had never heard from her before.
Pure fear.
“Oh, God.””
“Who is she?””
Evelyn backed away from the front door.
“Charlotte…”
“Who is she?””
The woman followed Richard toward the porch.
May you like
Evelyn whispered the name.
“Patricia Lowe.””
