Julian's cousin was named Melissa Grant.
Khloe had met her at family gatherings.
I had apparently met her once too, at Khloe's wedding, though I couldn't remember her face.
Harrison remembered the legal implications better than any of us remembered the woman.
"If she knowingly notarized a signature without the signer appearing, that's serious."
"She knew I was abroad."
"We establish facts first."
"She was at the wedding. Everybody knew I lived in Dubai."
"Knowledge that you generally lived abroad is not the same as proof she knew where you were on a particular date."
I gave him a look.
He didn't blink.
I was beginning to suspect attorneys were trained to resist murderous facial expressions.
Khloe sat beside Mom.
"Julian said Melissa helped with paperwork."
"When?" Harrison asked.
"Last year."
"What kind?"
"He didn't tell me."
"Did you ever see her at the house?"
"Once."
Mom looked at her.
"Twice."
Khloe frowned.
"When?"
"The second time you were working."
"What did she do?"
"She and Julian were in the office."
Harrison wrote it down.
"How long?"
"An hour, maybe."
"Did she speak with you?"
"Only hello."
"Did you sign anything?"
"No."
"Did she ask you to?"
"No."
That was at least one small mercy.
Harrison contacted the appropriate institutions and began preserving records.
I called my employer in Dubai.
Explaining why I needed documentation proving where I had been eighteen months earlier was one of the stranger conversations of my career.
My manager did not hesitate.
"We have travel logs, building access, meeting records. Whatever you need."
"Thank you."
"Natalie, are you all right?"
I looked at Mom.
"I'm getting there."
By afternoon, Harrison had copies of hotel records from Abu Dhabi, corporate travel documentation, and emails I had sent during the relevant dates.
The forged document was becoming easier to challenge.
The betrayal behind it was not.
At four, the unknown number texted again.
I HAVE DOCUMENTS YOU SHOULD SEE.
Harrison finally agreed we should respond.
Not me.
Him.
He identified himself as counsel and requested that any communication regarding the property go through his office.
The answer arrived quickly.
I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, MR. VANCE.
Harrison's eyebrows rose.
"That good?" I asked.
"Not especially."
Another message arrived.
I WOULD PREFER TO RESOLVE THIS WITHOUT POLICE OR COURTS.
Harrison typed:
PLEASE IDENTIFY YOURSELF.
The reply:
VICTOR HALE.
Khloe turned away.
Mom remained still.
Harrison asked whether Victor was represented by counsel.
Victor supplied a name.
That changed things.
Within an hour, lawyer was speaking to lawyer.
No parking-lot meeting.
No mysterious exchange.
No private confrontation.
Just offices, documentation, and the painfully slow machinery of people trying to establish which lies belonged to whom.
By evening, Harrison had enough to tell us something unexpected.
"Victor claims he believed Julian had a legitimate future interest in the property."
I laughed.
"Based on forged documents."
"Apparently."
"Does he admit lending him money?"
"His attorney characterizes the transactions differently."
"Of course."
"Regardless, Victor claims Julian represented that a family ownership restructuring was underway."
Mom stared.
"What does that mean?"
"He says Julian told him Natalie intended to transfer an interest in the property to you, and that you intended to grant Khloe and Julian rights connected to it."
"None of that happened."
"I know."
"Did Victor check?"
"That's one of the questions."
Khloe looked ashamed.
"He probably showed him the agreement."
"Likely."
I asked, "What about the seventy-eight thousand?"
"Victor claims some of it may be money he gave Julian."
"May be?"
"The cash isn't labeled."
Mom folded her arms.
"Some of my money is in there too."
"Potentially."
She gave Harrison the same look I usually did.
He almost smiled.
"Mrs. Carter, I promise I will stop saying potentially when the evidence lets me."
"See that you do."
I looked at Khloe.
"Did Julian ever tell Victor I was involved?"
She thought.
"He said your name."
"When?"
"On a call."
"What did he say?"
"Something about you approving it from overseas."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What exactly?"
"I don't remember."
"Try."
She closed her eyes.
"He said, 'Natalie's fine with the structure.'"
Harrison stopped writing.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Last year. Around summer."
"Did you hear Victor's response?"
"No."
"Did Julian know you heard?"
"I don't think so."
Mom shook her head slowly.
"He made everyone into a character in his story."
I looked at her.
She continued.
"To me, you were tired of supporting me. To Khloe, you were going to give us all the house. To this Victor man, you approved his arrangement."
Harrison nodded.
"That's an accurate way to describe the pattern."
Mom looked toward the window.
"He told each person the lie they needed."
That was exactly it.
Julian's talent had not been forging signatures.
It had been forging relationships.
He took the distance between people and filled it with whatever version of reality benefited him.
I was overseas.
Mom was ashamed.
Khloe was frightened.
Victor wanted repayment.
Melissa apparently wanted something too.
Julian had stood in the middle translating one person to another until nobody knew what anyone had actually said.
My phone rang.
Khloe stared at the screen.
"Julian?"
"No."
It was an unknown local number.
Harrison motioned for me to let it go to voicemail.
Seconds later, a message arrived.
NATALIE, THIS IS MELISSA. PLEASE CALL ME BEFORE YOU DO SOMETHING WE ALL REGRET.
I showed Harrison.
"Don't respond."
Khloe whispered, "She knows."
"Knows what?"
"That we found the paper."
"Maybe Julian told her."
Mom looked at me.
"Or Victor."
That possibility made everyone quiet.
I asked Harrison, "Could Melissa be involved with Victor too?"
"We don't know."
Khloe shook her head.
"I don't think so."
"Why?"
"She hated Julian's business."
"Then why help him?"
"I don't know."
The next message from Melissa arrived.
JULIAN LIED TO ME TOO.
Then:
I CAN PROVE IT.
Harrison exhaled.
"Everybody suddenly has proof."
"Should we talk to her?"
"Through counsel if possible."
Another message.
I DID NOT KNOW NATALIE WAS NOT PRESENT.
I stared at it.
"That's impossible."
Harrison said nothing.
Melissa continued.
JULIAN BROUGHT A WOMAN.
The room went still.
I read the sentence again.
"What woman?"
Harrison typed the question himself.
The answer took almost a minute.
SHE CLAIMED TO BE NATALIE.
Khloe stood.
"What?"
Mom looked at me.
I felt strangely detached.
"Someone impersonated me?"
Melissa sent another message.
I HAD NEVER MET NATALIE EXCEPT BRIEFLY AT THE WEDDING YEARS AGO. JULIAN SAID HER APPEARANCE HAD CHANGED.
Khloe shook her head violently.
"No."
"What?"
"I know who it was."
Every eye turned toward her.
"Who?"
She covered her mouth.
"There was a woman."
"What woman?"
"Julian's business partner's girlfriend. Maybe ex-girlfriend. I don't know."
"Name."
"Tessa."
"Last name."
"Reed, I think."
"Why her?"
"She looked like you."
My skin prickled.
"How much?"
"Same height. Dark hair. Similar face."
"Did you ever meet her?"
"Twice."
"Did she know who I was?"
"Julian showed people family pictures."
I turned toward Harrison.
"Can we find her?"
"Likely."
Melissa sent one final message.
I HAVE A COPY OF HER IDENTIFICATION.
Harrison stared at the screen.
"That matters."
"What identification?"
He asked.
Melissa replied with a photograph.
A driver's license.
My photograph was on it.
My name.
My birth date.
But the license number was wrong.
The address was the house.
Mom whispered, "That's fake."
"Yes."
Harrison enlarged the image.
Khloe stared at it.
"That's Tessa."
"You can tell from my photograph?"
"No."
She pointed toward the edge of the image Melissa had sent.
A woman's hand was holding the license.
On the inside of the wrist was a small crescent-moon tattoo.
Khloe whispered, "Tessa had that tattoo."
For the first time, we had a physical detail connecting another person directly to the impersonation.
Harrison immediately began preserving the messages.
Then his phone rang.
He listened.
"Yes."
A pause.
"When?"
Another pause.
"Send it."
He ended the call.
"What happened?"
"Victor's attorney has provided copies of documents Julian gave him."
"Are they forged?"
"Some appear to match what we found."
"Some?"
"There's one we haven't seen."
He opened the incoming file.
It was a letter.
Supposedly from me.
It stated that I knew about Julian's financing arrangements, approved temporary use of the property as support for his business obligations, and intended to complete the ownership restructuring when I returned to the United States.
My forged signature appeared beneath it.
But the date caught my attention.
Six weeks ago.
I looked at Mom.
"Six weeks."
She understood immediately.
"He knew you were coming?"
"No."
Nobody had known.
At least, nobody was supposed to.
I had booked the trip quietly.
I had told my employer.
The airline.
My building manager.
No family.
Khloe shook her head.
"I swear I didn't know."
"I believe you."
Mom asked, "Then why would he write that you were returning?"
Harrison reread the letter.
The exact wording was:
UPON MY RETURN TO THE UNITED STATES, I INTEND TO FINALIZE THE NECESSARY TRANSFERS.
Not a date.
Not a promise that I was coming soon.
A future event.
Julian had built himself time.
Victor had apparently interpreted it as something approaching.
Then Harrison scrolled to an email attached to the letter.
His face changed.
"What?"
"Victor asked Julian last month when you were returning."
"And?"
"Julian answered."
Harrison turned the screen.
SOONER THAN SHE THINKS.
I stared at the sentence.
Khloe whispered, "What does that mean?"
Nobody answered.
Then Harrison's phone rang again.
This time he answered and immediately stood.
"What address?"
He listened.
"Do not approach him."
My pulse accelerated.
"What?"
He ended the call.
"The security team at the house spotted Julian again."
"Alone?"
"No."
"Victor?"
Harrison shook his head.
"A woman."
Khloe went white.
"Tessa?"
"Security sent a photograph."
He turned the screen.
Khloe looked once.
"That's her."
The woman standing beside Julian had dark hair, sunglasses, and a small crescent moon tattoo visible on her wrist.
She was holding Mom's missing old phone.
