Chapter 9 - MY NAME
“No.”
My voice came out as a whisper.
Raymond continued.
“The document lists you as acknowledging the investment.”
“I never signed anything.”
“That’s why I called.”
My mother sat beside me.
“What is it?” she mouthed.
I raised one finger.
“Send it to my lawyer.”
“I already asked company counsel to preserve it.”
“Raymond, did Preston forge my signature?”
“I’m not qualified to make that conclusion.”
That was the lawyer’s answer.
Careful.
Precise.
But we both knew why he was calling.
An hour later, Rachel had the document.
We sat in her office staring at a scanned signature beneath my printed name.
ABIGAIL HAIL.
It looked like mine.
Almost.
Rachel zoomed in.
“Did you sign this?”
“No.”
“You’re certain?”
“I’m certain.”
She nodded.
“Then we treat it as disputed.”
I couldn’t stop staring.
Preston hadn’t simply lied about the failed investment.
He had apparently found a way into it without me.
The next day, Mason asked to meet.
Public place.
His attorney present.
Rachel came with me.
Mason looked terrible.
Gray skin.
Wrinkled shirt.
No jokes.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For laughing at the party?”
“For a lot more than that.”
He slid a folder across the table.
His attorney said, “Mr. Sterling is providing this voluntarily.”
Inside were copies of emails.
One was from Preston.
Need Abby off the paperwork. She won’t sign.
Another:
I can handle the acknowledgment page.
My stomach rolled.
I looked at Mason.
“You knew?”
He stared at his hands.
“I knew he didn’t want you involved.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“Yes.”
The word barely came out.
I wanted to throw the folder at him.
Instead, I asked, “Why are you telling the truth now?”
Mason laughed without humor.
“Because Preston told Raymond this whole thing was my idea.”
There it was.
The pattern.
Finance.
Legal.
Laura.
Raymond.
Me.
Now Mason.
Everyone was responsible except Preston.
Mason continued.
“He told me Northline would make us rich. Said the company overpaid outside consultants constantly, so nobody would notice.”
Rachel leaned forward.
“And the money?”
“We split some of it. Some covered old losses.”
“Dayton?”
Mason nodded.
I closed my eyes.
Years ago, Preston hadn’t just hidden the failed investment.
He had participated after I refused.
Lost money.
Then found other money to fill the hole.
I opened my eyes.
“Why did he hate my parents so much?”
Mason looked at me.
“Because your dad almost caught him.”
I froze.
“What?”
Mason swallowed.
“Your father asked one question Preston couldn’t answer.”
“What question?”
Mason looked toward his attorney.
May you like
Then back at me.
“He asked where the money was actually going.”
