Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN I WANTED TO HATE
I read Vanessa’s message three times.
Evelyn took the phone from my hand.
Her face changed at the last sentence.
“What old notary seal?”
She gave the phone back.
“Your father kept an in-house notary office at Carter Protective. Corporate secretary, estate documents, employee affidavits. There were several seals over the years.”
“Was one removed?”
“I don’t know.”
“You ran legal.”
“I ran legal until nine days after your father died.”
I had forgotten how quickly it happened.
Three years ago, I had been moving through my father’s funeral arrangements in a gray fog. Adrian handled phone calls. Celeste handled food. People placed documents in front of me and told me where to sign.
Evelyn had resigned before the flowers in my house died.
“Why did you leave?”
Her mouth tightened.
“Because Adrian told the board your father intended to replace me.”
“Did he?”
“I never found out.”
I stared at her.
“You never told me that.”
“You never answered my calls.”
“I don’t remember calls.”
“I left fourteen messages.”
I looked down at the phone.
Adrian had changed my number six weeks after the funeral.
He said reporters and vendors kept bothering me.
I had believed him.
“Call Vanessa,” Evelyn said.
I laughed once.
“You want me to call my husband’s mistress?”
“I want you to call the person who says her identity was used on a forged guaranty.”
“Those can be the same person.”
“They can.”
I dialed.
Vanessa answered immediately.
“Are you alone?”
“No. Evelyn’s here.”
Silence.
Then, “Fine.”
Her voice was different from the one she used at company events.
No polished laugh.
No careful softness around Adrian.
“Why did you text me?”
“Because Adrian thinks I’m in Richmond.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“You had an affair with my husband.”
“Yes.”
The directness landed harder than denial would have.
Evelyn watched me.
I gripped the edge of the table.
“How long?”
“Rebecca.”
“How long?”
“Eleven months.”
I closed my eyes.
I had known.
Knowing did not make hearing it easier.
Vanessa continued.
“I’m not calling to ask you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I’m calling because he used my name on that guaranty, and I think Celeste helped him.”
“Think?”
“I found a scanned copy in a folder on Adrian’s private server. I saw the notary block.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“You just happened to look?”
“No. I was looking for emails with my name because Adrian told outside counsel I approved communications around the Northbridge transfer. I didn’t.”
Evelyn leaned toward the phone.
“Vanessa, did you ever possess a notary seal?”
“Yes. Years ago.”
“Where is it?”
“I surrendered it after my commission expired.”
“To whom?”
“Virginia requires destruction, not surrender to the company. I broke the stamp in front of our office manager.”
“So the seal on the guaranty isn’t yours.”
“No.”
“Did you see Rebecca sign the guaranty?”
“No.”
“Did Adrian ever discuss obtaining her signature?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
I opened my eyes.
“When?”
“January.”
“What did he say?”
“He said there were legacy documents Rebecca had already agreed to and he needed clean copies.”
“I never agreed.”
“I know that now.”
“Did you know then?”
“No.”
I heard movement on her end.
A car door closing.
Then she lowered her voice.
“He started asking me strange questions in March.”
“What kind?”
“Whether you drank during the day. Whether you forgot meetings. Whether you’d ever been hospitalized for depression.”
My nails pressed into my palm.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I barely knew you.”
“That didn’t stop you sleeping with him.”
“No.”
Her voice broke on the single word, but she recovered.
“He told me you’d been separated privately for almost a year.”
I laughed.
“You attended our anniversary dinner.”
“I know.”
Silence stretched.
Neither of us tried to make it smaller.
Evelyn finally said, “Vanessa, you mentioned Thomas Carter’s notary seal.”
“I found an inventory spreadsheet from after Mr. Carter died. A box was checked out from records storage. Corporate seals, minute books, old stamps, signature specimens.”
“Checked out by whom?”
“I have a scan.”
“Send it.”
My phone vibrated thirty seconds later.
The document opened sideways.
I turned the phone.
CARTER PROTECTIVE SERVICES — LEGAL ARCHIVE ACCESS LOG.
The date was nine days after my father’s death.
Exactly the day Evelyn resigned.
A storage box identified as L-17 had been removed.
Contents:
Corporate seals.
Historical notary tools.
Executive signature exemplars.
Original proxy forms.
Board minute books.
The signature under “Released To” was difficult to read.
Evelyn enlarged it.
C. Vale.
Celeste.
I looked up.
“Why would she have access?”
“She shouldn’t have.”
“Did Adrian?”
“Not without legal.”
Vanessa interrupted.
“There’s more.”
Another attachment arrived.
It was an internal email.
FROM: Celeste Vale
TO: Adrian Vale
DATE: March 4, three years ago.
I could see only the first two lines because Vanessa had captured a partial screenshot.
Found what you needed in L-17. Your father-in-law kept every version, which may be a problem.
Adrian had replied four minutes later.
Bring only the blue folder. Leave the rest.
My chair scraped backward.
Evelyn reached for the phone.
But Vanessa said, “That isn’t the worst one.”
“What is?”
“Celeste sent another email that night.”
“Send it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian deleted it after I found it.”
“Then how do you know what it said?”
“I read it first.”
Vanessa’s breathing became uneven.
“It was about your father.”
“What about him?”
“She attached a letter.”
“What letter?”
“One Thomas Carter wrote six months before he died.”
Evelyn went completely still.
Vanessa continued.
“It said he had serious concerns about your judgment and did not believe you should have unrestricted control of the company.”
I looked at Evelyn.
“Is that true?”
“I don’t know.”
Vanessa whispered, “There was a handwritten note at the bottom.”
“What did it say?”
She took a breath.
May you like
Three words.
Ask Evelyn first.
