Chapter 5: What Chloe Said When She Thought I Wasn't There
Patricia Hale's office was on the fourteenth floor of a building on South Wacker, with a view of the river and the kind of quiet that cost money to maintain.
She was in her late fifties, with close-cropped silver hair and reading glasses she took on and off as she spoke.
She had laid Ryan's file and my file side by side on the conference table before I arrived.
"You've been thorough," she said, looking at the documents I had brought.
"I had a long night."
"Good.
That helps us." She tapped the stack of bank statements.
"The unauthorized transfers from your father's account are the cleanest piece.
That's a clear breach of the written agreement you both signed at the time of the inheritance.
We can move on that immediately."
"And the loans?"
"The forged signature loans are more complex, but not less serious.
We'll need a handwriting expert to formally confirm the forgeries, but given that you have documented proof you were in another state on the date one of those applications was signed in person, we have a strong foundation." She looked at me over her glasses.
"Claudia, I want to be direct with you.
What Alexander did crosses into crjminal territory.
Fraud.
Identity theft.
Forgery.
The divorce is the civil matter.
There is also a potential criminal referral here."
I had known that was coming.
Hearing it said plainly still landed differently.
"What about Chloe?" I asked.
Patricia set down her pen.
"She co-signed the loan applications.
She benefited directly from the fraudulent use of your identity.
Her exposure is significant."
"She was my best friend," I said.
Not as an appeal.
Just as a fact that still needed to be said out loud.
"I know," Patricia said.
"I'm sorry."
My phone buzzed on the table.
I glanced at it.
Chloe.
I looked at Patricia.
"Answer it," she said quietly.
"Put it on speaker.
Don't confirm or deny anything.
Just listen."
I accepted the call.
"Claudia." Chloe's voice was careful.
Measured.
Not the voice of someone calling to apologize.
"I think we need to talk before this gets any further out of hand."
"I'm listening," I said.
"Whatever Ryan told you — he's been building a case against me for months.
He's not a neutral party.
He's angry and he's trying to take my son and he will say whatever he needs to say to make me look—"
"Chloe." I kept my voice even.
"Did you sign your name to a loan application that used my Social Security number and my credit history?"
A pause.
"That was Alexander's decision.
He told me it was a standard business arrangement, that you had agreed to it—"
"Did you sign it?"
Another pause.
Shorter this time.
"I trusted him when he said you knew."
"That's not what I asked."
Silence.
"Chloe.
Did you sign it?"
"Yes." The word came out small.
"But Claudia, I swear to you, I thought—"
"There were two applications," I said.
"You signed both of them."
"I was trying to save my business.
I was desperate.
Alexander said it was just paperwork, that it would be cleaned up within a year, that you would never even—" She stopped herself.
"That I would never even know," I finished.
The line went quiet.
"I'm sorry," she said finally.
And for a moment — just a moment — she sounded like the person who had sat beside me at my father's graveside.
"Claudia, I am genuinely sorry.
I know that doesn't—"
"It doesn't," I said.
"But thank you for confirming it."
I ended the call.
Patricia had been writing the entire time.
She looked up.
"That was useful," she said simply.
"She called to manage me," I said.
"Not to apologize."
"Yes." Patricia capped her pen.
"She called because Alexander told her to.
He's trying to find out how much you have before Monday." She looked at me steadily.
"Which means we don't wait until Monday."
She reached for her phone.
May you like
"I'm calling the court clerk now.
We file today."
