Chapter 3 - Archives and Altered Seals
An hour later, instead of surrendering her seat at the table, Maggie was sitting beside Sebastian in the rear of a black sedan moving through downtown Chicago. Sebastian had ordered copies of the Lake Street title documents from his legal office and handed her a folder, watching her eyes sharpen behind her lenses as she read the first page and then the second.
“What is it?” Sebastian asked, noting the shift in her expression.
“This seal,” she said, angling the document toward the window light. “The archive stopped using this embossing pattern before the transfer date listed here.”
“You can prove that?”
“If I see the conservation records.”
Sebastian immediately reached for his phone, but Maggie caught his wrist, a contact that surprised them both. His gaze dropped to her fingers, and she released him slowly. “Don't call someone and make a door open because your name frightens them.”
A faint challenge entered his expression as he asked, “How would you suggest I open it?”
“Ask.”
Sebastian stared at her for a moment, weighing her words before handing her the phone. “Show me.”
Maggie called the archive herself, and by the time the sedan turned north, she had secured legitimate access for that afternoon through standard channels. Sebastian looked almost amused, leaning back against the leather seat. “You realize I could have done that in thirty seconds.”
“And someday you may discover civilization.”
He laughed once, a short, genuine sound that changed his entire face, and Maggie stared at him because she had never heard that sound before. Before she could process it, Sebastian's phone rang with a call from Theo, and the laughter disappeared instantly. Sebastian listened for ten seconds, his gaze moving back toward Maggie. “Understood.”
He ended the call and closed the folder. “What is it?”
“Malcolm didn't only freeze the credit line,” Sebastian said, his voice turning ice-cold. “He filed notice that the ownership chain on Lake Street is defective.”
Maggie looked down at the questionable seal on the paper in her lap. “If that filing survives review, we don't lose financing.”
“We could lose the property entirely.”
This time, when he looked at his wife, he did not try to shield her or move her away from the problem. Instead, he handed the folder back to her and said, “Tell me what you need to see.”
By 2:17 that afternoon, Maggie sat beneath the white archival lamps of the Hallstead Municipal Collection with Sebastian across from her in a chair clearly designed for a smaller man. Three heavy document boxes rested between them on the wooden table.
“Don't touch that,” Maggie warned as Sebastian's hand hovered above an old deed.
His eyes lifted slowly. “You've been waiting seven months to say that to me, haven't you?”
May you like
“I expected it to feel more satisfying than it does.”
The corner of his mouth moved upward in a ghost of a smile. Maggie drew the deed closer and adjusted her glasses, knowing the questionable seal was only the beginning of a much deeper deception.
