Chapter 6 - The Notary Came Back for One Piece of PaperMarshall met Faye and Natalie on the back porch.
He did not let them inside.
Elise stood beside him.
A camera recorded everything.
Faye saw the red light.
Her mouth tightened.
“What do you want?” Marshall asked.
“My medication.”
“You could've called.”
“I did.”
Marshall checked.
No missed call.
Another small lie.
Natalie looked uncomfortable.
She was in her early forties, with blond hair tied tightly behind her head.
Marshall had met her dozens of times at Grant's office.
“Why is Natalie here?”
Faye answered too quickly.
“She drove me.”
Natalie looked toward the house.
Marshall noticed.
“Elise.”
Elise stepped forward.
“Natalie, since you're here, maybe you can clear something up.”
Natalie swallowed.
“What?”
“The power of attorney.”
Faye interrupted.
“We're not discussing legal matters.”
Elise ignored her.
“Did you notarize Marshall's signature on November fourteenth?”
Natalie looked at Faye.
Then Marshall.
“I notarized documents.”
“Was Marshall physically present?”
“I don't remember.”
Marshall stared.
“You notarized me giving my sister authority to sell my home and you don't remember whether I was there?”
“It was months ago.”
“I was in the hospital with my infant son.”
Natalie's face changed.
Faye said:
“That's enough.”
She moved toward the door.
Marshall blocked it.
“Your medication will be brought out.”
“I need something else.”
“What?”
“A folder from the guest room.”
“Describe it.”
“Blue.”
Elise looked at Marshall.
The same color as the folder on the kitchen table.
“What is inside?”
“Personal papers.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
Marshall called Dean from inside.
“Buddy, stay upstairs.”
“Okay.”
Then he asked the housekeeper who had returned after police left to retrieve the blue folder from Faye's room.
She came back carrying three.
Faye pointed.
“That one.”
Marshall handed it to Elise first.
Faye snapped:
“You can't search my private documents.”
Elise did not open it.
“Then tell us whether it contains anything related to Willow Crest.”
“No.”
Natalie looked at the folder.
That was enough.
Marshall saw.
“What is in it?”
Faye's breathing changed.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Marshall.”
“Is it related to my house?”
“No.”
“Then you won't mind waiting while my lawyer determines whether I can legally retain it.”
“You can't.”
Natalie suddenly spoke.
“Faye, just tell him.”
Faye turned.
“Shut up.”
Marshall looked between them.
“Tell me what?”
Natalie's eyes filled.
“I didn't know they were selling the house.”
Faye's face went white.
Elise stepped closer.
“Natalie.”
“I thought the document was for bill payments.”
“What document?”
“The page.”
Faye whispered:
“Don't.”
Natalie started crying.
“Grant gave me a signature page.”
Marshall's stomach tightened.
“What signature page?”
“He said you signed a household-management authorization at Vanderbilt. Faye brought it back.”
Marshall remembered.
Utilities.
Insurance.
Repairs.
He had signed something while Miles slept in a hospital crib.
Natalie continued.
“Grant told me the notarial certificate was missing.”
Elise's voice sharpened.
“So you notarized a signature you didn't witness.”
Natalie looked down.
“Yes.”
“That is already a problem.”
“I know.”
“What happened after?”
“I stamped the acknowledgment.”
“On what document?”
“A page Grant gave me.”
“The power of attorney?”
“I didn't read all of it.”
Faye laughed bitterly.
“That's convenient.”
Natalie turned.
“You told me it was temporary!”
Faye stared.
Natalie continued.
“You said Marshall asked you to handle the house while he was grieving.”
“I thought that's what Grant said.”
Elise looked at Natalie.
“Did Grant alter the document afterward?”
“I don't know.”
“Why come here today?”
Natalie looked at the blue folder.
“Because Grant called.”
Faye closed her eyes.
“What did he ask you to retrieve?”
“The original signed authorization.”
Marshall stared.
The room seemed to contract.
Grant was not worried about the forged power of attorney.
He was worried about the genuine document from which Marshall's signature had been taken.
The one document that could prove the authority had originally been limited.
“Where is it?” Marshall asked.
Faye said nothing.
Natalie pointed toward the folder.
Marshall looked at his sister.
“You came back to destroy it.”
“No.”
“Then open the folder.”
Faye hugged it against her body.
“No.”
Elise quietly called the deputy who had remained parked near the gate.
Faye saw.
“Fine!”
She threw the folder onto the patio table.
Papers spilled.
Utility bills.
Insurance forms.
Copies of medical documents.
And one original sheet.
Marshall recognized his own handwriting.
TEMPORARY HOUSEHOLD AUTHORIZATION
He read.
Faye could pay utilities.
Arrange repairs.
Speak with insurance.
Nothing about selling.
Nothing about title.
Nothing about real estate.
Nothing durable.
Marshall looked at Natalie.
She whispered:
“That's the page.”
Elise photographed it immediately.
Then Marshall noticed handwriting at the bottom.
Not his.
Grant's.
Need full POA if M remains unstable.
Marshall stared.
“Unstable?”
Faye looked away.
He turned.
“What did Grant mean?”
She said nothing.
“Faye.”
Her eyes filled with something between fear and resentment.
“He thought you weren't functioning after Lillian died.”
“I was grieving.”
“You couldn't even remember whether you'd eaten.”
“My wife had just died.”
“You left everything to everyone else.”
“For two weeks.”
“For months.”
Marshall stared at her.
Then Faye said the sentence she had apparently been carrying for years.
“You always get to fall apart and somebody comes to save you.”
Marshall went quiet.
Faye's voice sharpened.
“When Mom died, I handled everything. When Dad got sick, I handled everything. Then Lillian dies and suddenly I move into your mansion, raise your children, manage your life—”
“You did not raise my children.”
“I've done more than you know!”
“You hit my one-year-old son.”
Silence.
Faye's anger flickered.
Marshall continued.
“And now I know you planned to take both boys to Colorado.”
Faye looked at Natalie.
Natalie shook her head.
“I didn't tell him.”
“Dean found the tickets.”
Faye went still.
Marshall's voice lowered.
“Why Colorado?”
She refused to answer.
Then Elise picked up another paper from the blue folder.
Hotel confirmation.
Denver.
Four nights.
Followed by an address.
Not a hotel after that.
A private residence in Aspen.
Elise read the name.
“Grant Weller?”
Marshall looked at her.
Grant owned the house.
May you like
Faye had not planned to disappear with the children alone.
She had planned to take them directly to Grant.
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