Chapter 6: My Father's Signature
I didn't sleep that night.
Not properly.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my father's handwriting.
The same handwriting on birthday cards, school reports, and the little notes he'd slipped into my lunchbox when I was a teenager.
Now that handwriting was appearing on financial documents authorizing transactions worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Someone had been using his identity.
And I had a horrible feeling they had been doing it for much longer than Tyler had been working aboard the Ocean Majesty.
At six the next morning, Mrs. Alvarez arrived with coffee.
She found me sitting on the living room floor between the twins' carriers.
"Emily, sweetheart, you look terrible.""
I managed a tired smile.
"Thank you.""
She placed the coffee on the table.
"Where is that husband of yours?""
"Not here.""
"Good.""
She sat beside me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she touched my hand.
"Your father would be proud of you.""
I looked down.
"How do you know?""
"Because he always worried you were too forgiving.""
I laughed weakly.
"That sounds like him.""
Mrs. Alvarez shook her head.
"That man used to stand outside my house whenever Tyler visited. He'd ask me whether your husband treated you well.""
I turned toward her.
"He did?""
"Of course. He loved you more than anything.""
She paused.
"One time, he told me something I never forgot.""
"What?""
"He said, 'My daughter has a good heart. I just hope she never mistakes patience for permission.''"
My eyes filled.
I pressed my fingers against my lips.
I wished my father were alive.
I wished I could call him and ask what the account was.
I wished he could tell me why Tyler had his signature.
But wishing didn't change anything.
At eight, Michael arrived with Rebecca.
They brought a financial investigator named David Foster.
He was in his early fifties, with a gray beard and a leather briefcase.
After introducing himself, he placed a tablet on my kitchen table.
"Mrs. Carter, I understand you have documents belonging to your late father's estate.""
I nodded.
I brought him the blue folder.
He examined each page carefully.
Then he stopped at the hospital document.
"Where did this come from?""
"Tyler left it in the nursery.""
David studied the date.
"Interesting.""
"What?""
He tapped the screen.
"This account number appears in a transfer record from your father's estate.""
I leaned forward.
"Which account?""
He turned the tablet toward me.
The final four digits matched the account listed in the folder.
My father's account.
David continued.
"Your husband appears to have used the same account in several transactions.""
"Can you tell where the money went?""
"Some of it went to Carter Hospitality Solutions. Some went to a private investment account.""
"Whose?""
He hesitated.
"We're still tracing the beneficial ownership.""
Michael folded his arms.
"David, what about the $900,000?""
David scrolled through the records.
"That's the most concerning part.""
He enlarged a document.
"The account was opened eleven years ago.""
I frowned.
"Eleven years?""
"Yes.""
"That's long before I met Tyler.""
David nodded.
"Your father was listed as the original account holder.""
"Then why was Tyler involved?""
"According to these records, he wasn't.""
I felt confused.
"Then who was?""
David turned the tablet toward me.
A name appeared.
*Daniel Hayes.*
My breath caught.
Daniel.
My father's younger brother.
My uncle.
I hadn't seen him in years.
He and my father had stopped speaking after a disagreement about the construction company.
When I was nineteen, my father had told me Daniel had borrowed money and refused to repay it.
They hadn't spoken again.
I stared at the name.
"That's my uncle.""
Rebecca looked up.
"Does he have access to the estate?""
"No.""
"Are you certain?""
"My father removed him from everything before he died.""
David examined another page.
"Then we need to verify that.""
I shook my head.
"Daniel lives in Tampa. He hasn't contacted me since my father's funeral.""
Michael exchanged a glance with Rebecca.
"What?"" I asked.
Rebecca slid a document across the table.
"We found a business registration connected to the account.""
I looked down.
The registered business was called Hayes Capital Partners.
The listed director was Daniel Hayes.
But beneath his name was another person.
Tyler Carter.
I felt my stomach twist.
"They knew each other?""
"Apparently," David said.
I stared at the document.
My husband and my uncle.
Two men who had supposedly never met.
Two men who had apparently been connected to a business using my father's money.
I remembered something.
"Wait.""
Everyone looked at me.
"When Tyler and I got engaged, he told me he had met a relative of mine at a business event.""
David leaned forward.
"Who?""
"I don't remember. He said it was someone from my father's company.""
I searched my memory.
It had been at a restaurant in Coral Gables.
Tyler had returned home late that night.
He'd said he'd run into someone who knew my father.
I'd never thought much about it.
"What year?"" David asked.
"About three years ago.""
David typed something into his tablet.
Then his expression changed.
"Mrs. Carter, your uncle's company was incorporated three years ago.""
I looked at Michael.
Three years.
Before Tyler and I were married.
Before my father died.
Before the cruise.
This wasn't a sudden affair.
It was something that had been building for years.
Rebecca picked up the document.
"Emily, we need to ask you something important.""
"What?""
"Did your father ever tell you he suspected anyone was stealing from his company?""
I thought carefully.
Then I remembered.
One Sunday afternoon, shortly before his death, my father had called me into his office.
He'd been sitting behind his desk, surrounded by paperwork.
"Em, I need you to promise me something.""
I'd smiled.
"What?""
"If anything happens to me, don't let anyone rush you into signing documents.""
I'd laughed.
"Dad, are you planning to die?""
He hadn't laughed.
"Promise me.""
I had walked over and hugged him.
"Okay. I promise.""
He'd held me longer than usual.
Then he'd said:
"And if Daniel comes asking about the old accounts, don't give him anything.""
At the time, I assumed it was another argument between brothers.
Now I understood that it might have been a warning.
I looked at David.
"My father told me not to trust my uncle.""
David nodded slowly.
"That may be significant.""
I stood.
"I want to see the old office.""
Michael immediately looked concerned.
"Emily, I don't recommend going there without arranging security.""
"Then arrange it.""
Rebecca closed her folder.
"We can go this morning.""
An hour later, we arrived at my father's old construction building.
The front office was occupied by an accounting firm.
A young receptionist greeted us.
"Good morning. Can I help you?""
I introduced myself.
"I'm Robert Hayes's daughter.""
Her expression softened.
"Oh. Your father was a wonderful man.""
She stood.
"Please wait here.""
She disappeared into the back office.
A few minutes later, an older accountant named Frank Mitchell appeared.
He had worked for my father for nearly twenty years.
When he saw me, he smiled.
"Emily.""
I hugged him.
"Frank.""
He held me at arm's length.
"Look at you. And I heard you have two beautiful daughters.""
I smiled.
"Yes. They're three months old.""
"Your father would've been over the moon.""
My throat tightened.
"I know.""
Frank led us toward the storage room.
The old wooden door still had my father's name engraved on a brass plate.
Inside, everything smelled like paper and dust.
His desk was still there.
So was the framed photograph of me graduating from college.
I touched the frame.
For a moment, I could almost hear him humming while he worked.
Frank cleared his throat.
"There's something I should tell you.""
I turned.
"What?""
"Your father left instructions about this room.""
My heart began pounding.
"What instructions?""
"He said that if anyone came asking about the estate accounts, I should give them a particular envelope.""
"To whom?""
"To you.""
Frank reached behind a row of filing cabinets.
He pulled out a small metal box.
Inside was an envelope sealed with red wax.
My name was written across it.
I stared at the handwriting.
My father's.
My hands began trembling.
I opened the envelope carefully.
Inside was a letter and a small brass key.
The letter was dated two weeks before he died.
My dearest Emily,
If you're reading this, something has happened that I hoped you would never have to deal with.
There are people who believe the money I worked for belongs to them. They are wrong.
I made a mistake by trusting someone I should have questioned.
I cannot tell you everything in this letter because I don't know who might eventually read it.
But I need you to remember one thing.
The money was never the most important thing I left you.
I swallowed.
Then I read the next line.
The truth is in the safe deposit box. Use the key, and ask for the account registered under the name Eleanor Hayes.
I frowned.
"Eleanor?""
Frank looked surprised.
"Your grandmother's name.""
"My grandmother died twenty years ago.""
Frank nodded.
"Your father never spoke about that account.""
I looked at the key.
"Where is the safe deposit box?""
"First National Bank in Fort Lauderdale.""
David immediately took a photograph of the letter.
"Do you know if the account is still active?""
Frank shook his head.
"No idea.""
I looked at Michael.
"We need to go there.""
He nodded.
"Today.""
But before we could leave, my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A man's voice came through.
"Emily Hayes?""
"Who is this?""
"My name is Daniel.""
I froze.
My uncle.
He continued.
"I heard you've been asking questions about your father's money.""
I looked at Rebecca.
She motioned for me to put the call on speaker.
"How did you get my number?"" I asked.
"That's not important.""
"What do you want?""
He sighed.
"I want to save you from making a terrible mistake.""
I tightened my grip on the phone.
"Which mistake?""
"Trusting Tyler.""
I almost laughed.
"You're a little late.""
"Then perhaps you'll listen to me now.""
I waited.
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Your husband isn't the person who started this.""
I glanced at Michael.
"Who did?""
There was a pause.
Then my uncle said:
"Your father and I made an agreement years ago. Tyler was only supposed to be the messenger.""
My blood ran cold.
"What agreement?""
Daniel exhaled.
"The money in that account was never your father's.""
I stared at the brass key.
"Then whose was it?""
My uncle answered:
"Your grandmother's. And she left it to someone you have never met.""
I felt the room go silent.
"Who?""
Daniel hesitated.
Then he said:
"Your mother.""
I couldn't breathe.
My mother had died when I was six years old.
I'd grown up believing she had left me nothing but a handful of photographs and a silver necklace.
My father had raised me alone.
He had never mentioned an inheritance.
He had never mentioned an account.
And now my uncle was telling me that nearly a million dollars had belonged to her.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
Daniel's voice became colder.
"Not only is it possible, Emily, but your father spent twenty years making sure you never found out.""
I stared at the letter.
Then at the key.
"Why?""
Daniel gave a bitter laugh.
"Because the person who was supposed to inherit that money wasn't you.""
My stomach dropped.
"Then who?""
He answered quietly.
"Your mother's first child.""
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
My mother had never told me she had another child.
My father had never told me I had a sibling.
And before I could ask another question, Daniel delivered the final blow.
"Emily, your older sister is alive.""
I stood frozen in my father's office.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of a woman standing outside the same building.
She looked directly into the camera.
May you like
And beneath the photograph were six words.
*I think it's time we finally met.*
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