Chapter 5: The Signature That Wasn't Mine
Captain Lena Marsh called back at 2:55 PM.
I stepped into the family consultation room at the end of the ward and closed the door.
"The document examiner finished the preliminary review," she said.
"The signature on the addendum does not match your known exemplars.
Pressure pattern is wrong.
Pen angle is wrong.
The loop on the K in your last name is formed differently from every other signature in the original custody file."
"How confident is she?"
"She used the word 'unambiguous.' She'll put it in writing by end of business."
I sat down in one of the plastic chairs.
Cross was standing by the window.
He had heard enough from my side of the call.
"Forged document in a family court filing," he said when I lowered the phone.
"That's not the brothers acting drunk on a Saturday afternoon.
That's premeditated.
That required someone with access to the court system."
"Arthur has funded three judicial campaigns in this county."
"I know." Cross picked up his bag.
"I need to make a call.
Don't go anywhere."
He stepped out.
I sat in the quiet room and thought about the addendum.
Four months after the divorce.
Maya would have been seven.
I tried to remember what had happened in those four months — whether there had been a medical situation, a school form, anything that might have made Veronica's attorneys move to consolidate her authority.
Then I remembered.
Maya had broken her wrist falling off a jungle gym.
A minor fracture.
The ER had called me first, as they were required to under the joint custody order.
Veronica had arrived at the hospital furious that she hadn't been the first contact.
She had argued with the attending physician in the waiting room.
I had been there.
I had watched it.
Six weeks later, the addendum appeared in the court file.
Cross came back in twelve minutes.
He sat down across from me.
"I have a contact in the Texas AG's office," he said.
"She handles public corruption referrals.
I've worked with her before.
She's good and she's clean, which in this county is not a given." He paused.
"She wants the forged document, the footage, the accreditation threat, and Arthur's financial filings.
She says if the filings show what she thinks they'll show, she can open a parallel investigation that takes this completely out of local jurisdiction."
"How long?"
"She needs seventy-two hours to review what we have and decide if she can move."
Seventy-two hours.
I looked at the clock on the wall.
"Ross and Ethan," I said.
"What's their current status?"
"Local PD took a report.
Hector Miller's department.
The report classifies it as an accidental injury during a family gathering." Cross's expression didn't change.
"Miller personally signed off on it."
"Of course he did."
"The report is now part of the evidence package going to the AG's office.
Falsifying an injury report on a minor is its own charge."
My phone buzzed.
A text from a number I didn't recognize.
*You should ask Veronica what she told the school counselor in March.
Before you make any more moves.*
I stared at the message.
Cross leaned over and read it.
"Unknown number," I said.
"Don't respond." He photographed the screen with his own phone.
"But don't delete it either."
I set my phone on the table between us.
We both looked at it.
May you like
Someone inside the Vance circle had just broken ranks.
The question was whether they were offering help — or setting a trap.
