Chapter 3 - The Ghost Signature
The sun was just starting to rise.
I had finally called the police.
They took my statement, took photos of my face, and downloaded the camera footage.
An arrest warrant was already being drafted for Mark.
But Arthur and I were busy with something much more important.
"Chloe said they sold the house two weeks ago," I told him.
Arthur frowned, pulling out his laptop.
"Helen, they can't sell that house without your permission."
He was right.
Ten years ago, I had funded the original deposit for their home.
It was a substantial amount of money.
To protect my investment, I had Arthur register a legal interest on the property.
A silent lien.
No transfer of deed could legally happen without my physical, notarized signature.
"Let me pull up the county records," Arthur muttered, typing rapidly.
The room was completely silent.
"They sold it," Arthur finally said, his voice tight.
"How?" I demanded.
"The paperwork was filed twelve days ago."
He clicked open the digitized deed of sale.
He scrolled down to the final page.
There, at the bottom, was my name.
It was signed in blue ink.
It looked exactly like my handwriting.
But I hadn't signed it.
"It's a forgery," I breathed.
Arthur's eyes widened. "If this is forged, the sale is fraudulent."
"Can we stop the money?" I asked.
"I'm calling the title company right now," he said.
It took three hours of frantic phone calls.
We had to threaten a massive lawsuit against the title company and the bank.
But by 9:00 AM, the wire transfer system was officially locked.
The $500,000 from the house sale had been frozen in transit.
Mark thought he had the money.
He didn't.
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He had just committed massive real estate fraud.
And the FBI was about to be very interested.
