Chapter 9: Grace's Office
Grace Okafor's office was on the fourth floor of a building downtown, and she was already at her desk when Janet, Tessa, and I arrived at five minutes to eight.
She looked at the three of us, looked at Tessa specifically, and said: "I wasn't expecting a witness."
"Neither was I," I said.
"But here we are."
Grace gestured to the chairs across from her desk.
She had a legal pad in front of her and a coffee she hadn't touched yet.
"Tell me everything," she said.
"In order."
Tessa told her story first.
Grace listened without interrupting, writing steadily.
When Tessa finished, Grace set her pen down and looked at her directly.
"You understand that what you're describing — your father asking you to create a distraction at the cookout — that's material to a fraud case."
"Yes," Tessa said.
"Are you willing to put that in a sworn statement?"
Tessa glanced at me once.
Then back at Grace.
"Yes."
Grace picked her pen back up.
"The LLC," she said.
"Walk me through what you found."
Tessa laid the bank statement on the desk.
Grace studied it for a long moment.
"I ran the company name last night," Grace said.
"Harwell-Vance Holdings was registered eighteen months ago.
The registered agent is a man named Paul Vance.
Do you know that name?"
I shook my head.
Tessa went still.
"Tessa," Grace said carefully.
"Do you know Paul Vance?"
"He's my dad's college roommate," she said.
"He works in finance.
They've stayed close."
Grace made a note.
"The company has received transfers from three separate accounts over the past thirty months.
One of those accounts is a joint account held by you and Marcus." She looked at me.
"Approximately sixty-two thousand dollars moved out of that account in transfers small enough not to trigger automatic alerts."
The number sat in the room.
"He was careful about it," Grace continued.
"But careful and invisible are different things.
The pattern is clear once you're looking for it." She paused.
"Claire, I also ran the signatures on the loan documents against your signature on your original mortgage application.
Two of the three signatures are not yours."
Janet made a sound beside me.
"Forged," I said.
"Forged," Grace confirmed.
"Which means you are not liable for those loans.
You are, in fact, a victim of fraud." She folded her hands on the desk.
"Here is where we are.
We have forged signatures on financial documents.
We have a pattern of fraudulent transfers from a joint account.
We have a third-party LLC used to conceal marital assets.
And we have a witness who can testify that the incident at the cookout yesterday was staged at Marcus's request to remove you from the house."
She looked at me steadily.
"I want to file today," she said.
"Divorce petition and a motion to freeze all joint assets pending investigation.
I also want to refer the fraud evidence to the DA's office."
"The DA's office," I repeated.
"What Marcus did with those signatures is a crjme, Claire.
That's not a civil matter.
That's criminal fraud." She paused.
"Do you want to proceed?"
I thought about the necklace on the table beside the drinks.
I thought about eight months of silence.
I thought about Tessa — his Tessa — standing on Janet's front path in the dark, holding a piece of paper she had risked everything to copy.
"Yes," I said.
"File everything."
May you like
Grace nodded and reached for her phone.
Across town, Marcus was about to discover that patience, when it finally runs out, runs out completely.
