Chapter 9 - The Man Behind the Notary
The notary, Serena Vale, lived two counties away.
Evelyn's investigator located her through business registrations and passed the information to the proper authorities.
He did not approach her with threats or promises.
Within days, investigators interviewed her about the certificate bearing my signature.
Serena initially insisted she had notarized a document presented by Kessler.
She claimed not to remember me.
When shown a photograph of graduation morning, she said she might have been mistaken about the date.
The investigators requested her journal, credential details, and electronic scheduling records.
Her entries showed an appointment at my parents' home while I was at Westbridge.
The entry identified the signer as Audrey Vance.
There was no travel record linking me to that house.
The document had been created in my absence.
Evelyn explained that the strongest evidence would be what Serena did next, not how frightened she looked under questioning.
Serena then hired a lawyer.
My father began telling friends that disgruntled employees were conspiring against him.
A local paper printed a photo of the graduation confrontation alongside a story about the trust dispute.
I hated seeing my face reduced to the mark his hand had left.
Strangers debated whether the slap had been staged.
Some called me greedy.
Others called me brave.
Neither group knew me.
Paige took my phone and suggested a walk.
We returned to the quiet courtyard where everything had begun.
"You don't have to win their approval," she said.
"I know."
"Then stop reading the comments."
She was right.
My life could not be rebuilt in a comment section.
That evening, Naomi found a series of payments to a small consulting firm called Harbor Ridge Services.
The invoices described compliance reviews, but there were no reports attached.
The company was owned by a nominee who had once shared an address with Serena.
Money had moved from the family foundation to Harbor Ridge, then to an account controlled by Kessler.
The trustee was not merely receiving false paperwork.
He might have been paid to help produce it.
Evelyn requested bank records and corporate formation documents.
At the next hearing, Kessler claimed the payments were legitimate consulting fees.
The judge ordered him to produce the underlying contracts.
His lawyer asked for more time.
The request was granted in part, but the preservation order remained in place.
Outside the courthouse, Julian intercepted me again.
He was shaking.
"Dad says Serena will take the blame," he whispered.
"How do you know?"
"He told her he'd protect her if she kept quiet."
"Why are you telling me?"
Julian handed me a folded receipt.
It showed a prepaid storage unit rented in Kessler's name.
The address was familiar.
It stood two blocks from the closed branch of the bank where my grandfather had kept his safety-deposit boxes.
On the reverse, Julian had written a locker number.
And beneath that, one more sentence.
May you like
Dad went there the night Grandpa died.
