Chapter 7 - Evelyn Had Been Investigating Her Own Father’s FortuneThaddeus did not sleep.
At sunrise, he sat in the kitchen drinking coffee he never tasted.
Bernice entered quietly.
“You found something.”
He looked at her.
“How can you tell?”
“You have the same face your father used to have when business went wrong.”
Thaddeus almost laughed.
“Apparently a lot of his business went wrong.”
He told her about Evelyn.
Jonathan Avery.
Bellweather Components.
The forged transfer.
Grayson’s trust.
Bernice sat slowly.
“I knew her maiden name was Avery.”
“So did I.”
“But she never said—”
“She didn’t know.”
“At least not until the end.”
“Yes.”
Bernice looked devastated.
“She must have been terrified.”
Thaddeus thought of Evelyn’s final weeks.
She had seemed distracted.
Asked strange questions about his father’s early businesses.
Once asked whether Thaddeus believed Wallace had ever done anything illegal.
Thaddeus laughed.
He remembered laughing.
“Dad cuts corners. Every businessman does.”
Evelyn had gone quiet.
He had kissed her.
Gone back to email.
The memory hurt now.
“What else did police find?” Bernice asked.
“Enough to prove she was investigating.”
“Not enough to explain her death?”
Thaddeus looked at her.
Bernice immediately said:
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
He rubbed his eyes.
“I’m thinking the same thing.”
Evelyn’s accident had occurred six weeks after learning the truth.
That did not automatically mean murder.
He knew that.
Rain.
A sharp curve.
Speed.
People died in accidents without conspiracies.
But Silas had burned her documents.
Tabitha had stolen from the trust.
Both knew Evelyn was investigating.
And now Silas had been caught trying to destroy evidence.
Thaddeus could not ignore the possibility.
Grayson entered the kitchen.
Barefoot.
Hair messy.
“Dad?”
Thaddeus immediately stopped talking.
“Morning.”
Grayson looked around.
“Is Aunt Tabitha gone?”
“Yes.”
“Is she coming back?”
“Not today.”
The boy climbed onto a stool.
Bernice poured cereal.
Grayson ate silently.
Then asked:
“Is she mad at me?”
Thaddeus’s chest tightened.
“Why would she be?”
“Because Bernice made the video.”
“She made it because Tabitha was hurting you.”
“But Aunt Tabitha said people go to jail because kids lie.”
Thaddeus put down his coffee.
“Did she tell you that?”
Grayson nodded.
“When?”
“A lot.”
“Why?”
“She said if I told you things, you’d call police.”
Thaddeus controlled his anger.
“And then?”
“She said police would think I made it up.”
“That isn’t how this works.”
Grayson shrugged.
“But she said.”
Thaddeus moved beside him.
“Listen to me.”
The boy looked up.
“You are not responsible for what happens to Aunt Tabitha.”
“Even if police take her?”
“Even then.”
“What if she says sorry?”
Thaddeus paused.
“Sorry matters.”
Grayson waited.
“But sorry doesn’t erase consequences.”
The boy considered that.
“Like when I broke your watch?”
Thaddeus smiled faintly.
“Different size problem.”
Grayson nodded.
Then ate another spoonful.
After a minute:
“She made me sign something once.”
Thaddeus’s body went still.
“What?”
Bernice turned.
Grayson looked nervous.
“Did I do bad?”
“No.”
Thaddeus kept his voice gentle.
“What did she have you sign?”
“I don’t know.”
“Paper?”
“Yes.”
“What did it look like?”
“A lot of words.”
“When?”
“Before school started.”
Three months earlier.
“What did she say it was?”
“For camp.”
Grayson had attended a two-week summer science camp.
Thaddeus remembered signing forms himself.
“Where did you sign?”
“In her room.”
“Your name?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
“She said write Dad.”
Thaddeus stared.
“What?”
“She made me practice your name.”
Bernice covered her mouth.
Thaddeus’s heartbeat became loud.
“She asked you to write my name?”
Grayson nodded.
“I’m bad at it.”
“No.”
Thaddeus forced himself to stay calm.
“You’re not in trouble.”
“She said it was a game.”
“How many times?”
“A lot.”
“On paper?”
“Yes.”
“What did she do with the pages?”
“I don’t know.”
The forged signature on the trust authorization suddenly looked different.
Thaddeus had assumed Silas or Tabitha copied an old signature.
What if they used Grayson?
Not as the final forged signer.
But to create examples.
To make him imitate his father.
To study the shape.
Or worse—to create practice sheets that could be scanned and refined.
Thaddeus felt sick.
“Did Silas ever see you do that?”
Grayson nodded.
“The paper man said I was getting good.”
Thaddeus stood immediately.
Bernice touched his arm.
“Where are you going?”
“To call Detective Quinn.”
Before he could, Grayson added:
“There was a lady too.”
Thaddeus stopped.
“What lady?”
“At Aunt Tabitha’s room.”
“When?”
“The paper day.”
“What did she look like?”
Grayson thought.
“Yellow hair.”
“Blonde?”
“Yes.”
“What did she do?”
“She stamped stuff.”
Thaddeus knew exactly what that sounded like.
A notary.
Not Silas.
Another notary.
“Did she tell you her name?”
Grayson shook his head.
Then:
“Aunt Tabitha called her June.”
Thaddeus called Mara.
She searched immediately.
One licensed notary regularly associated with Silas Crowe’s firm.
June Halpern.
But there was a problem.
June Halpern had died eleven months earlier.
Grayson had seen her three months ago.
Which meant someone had been using a dead woman’s notary identity.
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And the forged documents were not sloppy theft.
They were part of a system.
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