PART 2 — THE EIGHT-MILLION-DOLLAR TRAP
Elliot regained his composure first. “A notary. It’s all perfectly legal.”
“Name?”
“Don’t interrogate your family,” Judith barked. “We’re trying to protect your future.”
Daniel reached toward my wrist, but I stepped aside. “You’ve had nearly two weeks to tell me the company was in trouble,” I said. “Instead you made me believe you were helping plan Mom’s memorial.”
“Because you’d make it emotional,” he said. “Like everything else.”
The reality was worse than overdue bills.
Four months earlier, Morgan Development had borrowed heavily to construct luxury apartments on flood-prone land.
Permits were delayed, interest mounted, and their lender had given them until Friday to provide more security or default.
They’d chosen Mom’s estate as their bailout without seeking permission.
Judith got up. “We have a meeting with the bank at eleven. You will sign before then.”
I shook my head. She struck the table, toppling a vase.
“Then we’ll enforce your mother’s debt in court!”
“Please do,” I replied.
She took my response as surrender. They departed with threats, Daniel stopping to add, “When this is finished, I expect an apology.”
I secured the door and phoned my attorney, Rebecca Hale.
“They showed you the forged note?” she asked.
“Yes. Elliot says a notary witnessed it.”
“Good. The affidavit is now evidence of an attempt to collect it.
Stay away from the bank. Our notice went to its fraud department at eight yesterday evening.”
Six nights earlier, the estate’s corporate trustee had sent me a demand from Morgan Development containing the same note.
Initially, I suspected an accounting mistake.
But comparing its digital signature against Mom’s authentic records revealed a nearly perfect imitation, pasted from a scanned tax form, including a distinctive ink blot.
The notary’s commission number belonged to a woman whose authorization had expired three years earlier.
Hospital security records confirmed Mom was under anesthesia when the note claimed she’d signed it at the company’s office.