Chapter 7
The investigation moved faster after Marcus gave his statement.
Daniel provided the draft files he had received from Renata. The lender provided access records. Adrian’s company supplied the email account history after investigators requested it.
I learned the results in pieces, never all at once.
First, the investigators confirmed that my signature had been copied from an old agreement kept in Walter’s business files. Renata had seen that agreement when she and Marcus looked through a public record packet for one of the properties.
Then Daniel told them he had witnessed the application without seeing me sign. He admitted that was wrong. He said Renata had assured him my permission was already settled.
Finally, the access records showed Renata submitting the application from Adrian’s company account.
Mr. Whitlow warned us that those facts did not settle every question about intent. They did make clear that the lender had received a document I had not authorized.
Marcus called me after he heard.
“I wanted her to tell me herself,” he said.
“I know.”
“She kept saying she’d explain when everyone stopped accusing her. The records explain more than she has.”
We met for lunch. He looked older than he had six months earlier. He also looked more certain of himself.
“I’m filing for divorce,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you hoped we’d find a way through it.”
“I hoped you’d be happy with her.”
“I was, for a while. I need to be able to trust the person I build a life with.”
He had not asked me to make the decision. I was glad he told me when he was ready.
Renata asked to meet me once before the divorce moved ahead. Mr. Whitlow advised me that I did not need to, but I chose to speak with her in his conference room. Marcus knew about the meeting. He did not attend.
Renata arrived alone. Her composure lasted until she saw the copy of the application on the table.
“I didn’t mean for this to become a legal matter,” she said.
“You sent a lender a document with my signature.”
“I thought you would agree once Marcus talked to you.”
“I refused the authority papers in my kitchen.”
“You said you would consider helping.”
“I said I would look at a business plan with my son.”
She looked down at the table. “I wanted us to have a start. Marcus worked hard, and you had so much under your control.”
“I did. That did not give you permission to sign for me.”
“I never thought the lender would release money before we spoke to you.”
“The application says I had already consented.”
She had no answer.
I asked her why she had removed me from the chapel list.
“I was angry,” she said. “You saw me as someone trying to take what belonged to Marcus.”
“I saw papers I couldn’t sign. I wanted to talk to him about them.”
“You could have told him about the trust from the beginning.”
“I should have,” I said. “That failure is mine.”
She looked surprised to hear me admit it.
“It still doesn’t explain your choice,” I continued.
Renata covered her face. When she lowered her hands, she said she had believed a successful company would prove she and Marcus could stand on their own. I heard how badly she wanted him to admire what they had planned. I also knew she had hidden the application from him.
When the meeting ended, she asked whether I would tell Marcus she had apologized.
“You can tell him yourself,” I said. “He can decide when he wants to hear it.”
I went home feeling worn out. Mr. Whitlow called later to confirm that investigators had arranged another interview with Renata. I told him I would answer any further questions they had.
The following week, Marcus joined Ada Bell at a property meeting. I did not attend. He called afterward to tell me a tenant wanted to expand her shop into the neighboring space and needed a fair lease to make it possible.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I asked Ada to show me the repair costs and the other tenants’ leases before I decide.”
“That sounds sensible.”
He laughed. “Dad would have asked the same questions.”
“You’re learning his work.”
“I like it.”
At our next counseling session, Marcus told me he was frightened I might think he wanted the trust only because his marriage had ended.
“I want to understand what Dad left,” he said. “I don’t need you to hand it to me because you feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t.”
He looked relieved.
We made a plan with Mr. Whitlow and the independent trustees for Marcus to begin the first stage Walter had described. He would spend a year learning the companies, working with the managers, and making decisions they could review. It was what Walter had intended, begun later than I wished.
As we left the counselor’s office, Marcus held the door for me.
May you like
“I found the birdhouse in your garden,” he said. “Could we fix the roof together this weekend?”
“Yes,” I said. “We can.”
