Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN MY PHOTO

Paula agreed to meet Rachel and me at a coffee shop. She brought printouts of the pages Daniel had sent her and placed them on the table without touching her drink.

The license showed my name, birth date, and address. The photograph showed another woman.

I had seen her at the wedding.

She had stood near the gift table in a green dress. Daniel introduced her as someone who worked with Michael, but we had barely spoken.

“Her name is Tessa,” I said. “Tessa Bell.”

Paula nodded. “That’s the name on the email account that sent me the files.”

Rachel slid the license toward me. My stomach tightened. Someone had put my personal details beneath a stranger’s face and expected a notary to accept her as me.

Paula had noticed. She’d called the number Daniel gave her instead of replying to the email. That number reached me.

“I won’t notarize any of this,” she said. “I’ve kept the email and attachments.”

I thanked her. Then Rachel drove me to an attorney named Nora Ellis, who had helped Grandma June with her will. Nora squeezed us into her lunch hour.

She studied the document, the license, and Paula’s email.

“We’ll notify the county recorder that you dispute this document,” she said. “I’ll also check whether anything has already been filed. Keep the originals of every message you receive.”

“Could they take the house?” I asked.

“Let’s find out exactly what they’ve done.”

Nora called the property records office while we sat across from her. I watched her expression change as the clerk spoke.

“When?” she asked.

She listened, thanked the clerk, and hung up.

“A lien was recorded against the Linden Street property six days ago.”

Six days. We had been married only a week.

“For how much?”

“Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars.”

I stared at her. “The house isn’t worth that.”

“That may be one reason they needed more documents,” Nora said.

My phone buzzed. Richard had sent another photograph: a page bearing Michael’s company letterhead and Daniel’s signature as its managing partner.

Beneath it was an address I recognized.

Linden Street.

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Then Richard sent a message.

I’m at Michael’s office. There’s someone else here asking questions. Her name is Tessa Bell.