Chapter 4 - Someone Had Forged Alistair's NameThe document was found in Malcolm's car.
Not the original.
A photocopy.
But enough.
Alistair sat inside a police interview room with Detective Sara Brennan and stared at his own signature.
It looked almost perfect.
That frightened him.
AUTHORIZATION FOR RESIDENTIAL EDUCATIONAL PLACEMENT.
Theo Grant.
Willa Grant.
The name of the facility was printed halfway down the page.
Stone Ridge Youth Center.
Location:
Outside Bozeman, Montana.
Alistair read the sentence three times.
Six-month initial placement.
Extension subject to clinical recommendation.
“Clinical?” he asked.
Detective Brennan sat opposite him.
“We’re still determining what this organization is.”
“I have never heard of it.”
“You're certain?”
“Yes.”
“Your signature appears on three documents.”
“It isn't mine.”
“Could you have electronically signed something without reading it?”
Alistair looked at her.
“No.”
Then remembered how many documents crossed his desk daily.
His certainty weakened by a fraction.
Brennan noticed.
“Mr. Grant?”
“I sign business documents electronically.”
“Would Corinne have access?”
“To my home laptop, maybe.”
“Passwords?”
“She knows some.”
“Digital signature?”
“My assistant handles corporate packets, but family documents wouldn't use that system.”
Brennan turned another page.
A letter.
It described Theo as “aggressive, oppositional, emotionally volatile.”
Alistair felt sick.
Willa was described as “manipulative, defiant, prone to false allegations against caregivers.”
He looked up.
“This is written to discredit anything they say.”
Brennan didn't respond.
She didn't need to.
He continued reading.
The document claimed Corinne was primary caregiver.
Alistair “frequently absent due to work obligations.”
That part was true.
And suddenly he understood why good lies used real details.
“How long has she been preparing this?”
“We don't know.”
Alistair looked at the date.
Four months.
He had been planning a major acquisition during that period.
Working late.
Traveling.
Trusting Corinne to handle home.
Exactly what she needed.
“Who signed as educational consultant?”
Brennan pointed.
Malcolm Vale.
Of course.
“What does he do?”
“Private education consulting.”
Alistair laughed bitterly.
“He sells tutoring services to wealthy families.”
“Does he make referrals?”
“I don't know.”
“We're looking.”
The detective slid another paper across.
An invoice.
PLACEMENT CONSULTATION FEE — $28,000.
Paid.
From a household account Alistair shared with Corinne.
He stared.
“I didn't authorize that.”
“Did you notice?”
“No.”
“How?”
“Because twenty-eight thousand dollars doesn't stand out in that account.”
The sentence sounded obscene aloud.
But it was true.
Their household expenses were high.
Renovations.
Tuition.
Staff.
Charity payments.
Corinne knew he rarely reviewed individual charges.
Detective Brennan asked:
“Could the facility have believed your consent was legitimate?”
“Yes.”
That possibility mattered.
Not everyone involved needed to be part of Corinne's plan.
Some might simply have accepted documents.
“Would your children have been accompanied?”
“Malcolm.”
“The airline tickets are for Willa and Theo. We found a separate itinerary in Malcolm’s email for the same flight.”
Alistair’s hands curled.
“So tomorrow morning he was going to fly them to Denver.”
“Then drive to Montana, according to a reservation.”
Alistair stared at her.
“How far?”
“Several hours.”
The idea of his children sitting in a car with Malcolm after being removed from home without his consent made his chest tighten.
“Where's Corinne?”
“Speaking with counsel.”
“Is she being arrested?”
“I can't discuss charging decisions yet.”
“She abused my son.”
“We have video evidence of concerning conduct.”
“Concerning?”
Brennan remained calm.
“Words matter in an investigation.”
Alistair leaned back.
He knew she was right.
He still hated it.
“What about Malcolm?”
“Same answer.”
“Can either contact my children?”
“Child protective services is working with family court on emergency arrangements.”
Alistair laughed from disbelief.
“I'm their father.”
“You are.”
“So why do I need arrangements?”
“Because allegations involve a caregiver in your home, and investigators need to understand whether there were warning signs or prior reports.”
That hit.
Alistair looked away.
He knew what she meant.
Why hadn't he protected them earlier?
He had no good answer.
Brennan softened slightly.
“This is not me accusing you.”
“It feels like it.”
“I’m saying we're going to ask difficult questions.”
Alistair nodded.
“Ask them.”
He would answer every one.
Even when the truth embarrassed him.
Especially then.
That evening, Theo and Willa were temporarily taken with Alistair to his mother’s home twenty minutes away while the house was processed and emergency orders were addressed.
Theo barely spoke.
Willa watched every adult suspiciously.
Alistair's mother, Margaret Grant—whom the children called Nana Maggie—made soup and did not ask questions.
Alistair appreciated that.
At nine, Theo came downstairs.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Corinne coming?”
“No.”
“Tonight?”
“No.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No.”
Theo stared at him.
“You promise?”
Alistair hesitated.
Promises had been used too casually in that house.
“I promise she is not coming here tonight.”
Theo seemed to accept the precision.
Then he asked:
“Are we still going to Montana?”
“No.”
Theo's shoulders dropped.
Relief.
Alistair's chest hurt.
“Did Corinne tell you about Stone Ridge?”
Theo nodded.
“What did she say?”
“That bad kids go there.”
Alistair closed his eyes.
“You're not bad.”
Theo looked unconvinced.
“She says they fix kids.”
Alistair crouched.
“You do not need to be fixed.”
Theo began crying.
“Then why did you sign?”
There it was again.
The forged signature had done more than authorize travel.
It had convinced his children their father had agreed to send them away.
“I didn't.”
Theo stared.
“I swear to you, I did not sign those papers.”
“Corinne said you wanted us gone.”
Alistair's voice broke.
“I don't.”
Theo looked at him for a long time.
Then whispered:
“Willa said you didn't.”
Alistair looked upstairs.
His daughter had trusted him when he had given her reasons not to.
That almost hurt more.
Theo hugged him.
Small arms around his neck.
Alistair held him.
Then Theo whispered something into his shoulder.
“Corinne said Uncle Malcolm got paid if we went.”
Alistair pulled back.
“What?”
Theo sniffed.
“I heard them.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“What did they say?”
Theo looked frightened.
Alistair immediately softened.
“You don't have to tell me now.”
But Theo did.
“Uncle Malcolm said, ‘Once they're placed, we get the first payment.’”
Alistair went still.
“We?”
Theo nodded.
May you like
The placement wasn't only about getting the children out of Corinne's way.
Someone had planned to profit from sending them away.
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