Chapter 12 - BRENDA STARTS TO RUN
Brenda disappeared that evening.
Her apartment was empty.
Her passport had been used at neither airport nor border crossing.
Her car was found in a hotel garage.
For twelve hours, no one knew where she was.
Then Malcolm Pierce resigned from North Vale.
That was when the board understood how serious the conspiracy had become.
North Vale issued a statement claiming Malcolm had acted independently.
No one believed it.
Their share-sale offer to Andrew was withdrawn.
Their proposed licensing transaction disappeared.
But evidence does not disappear because a deal does.
The independent investigation expanded.
So did the police inquiry.
At 5:40 the next morning, Brenda called me from a blocked number.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
She laughed softly.
“You sound like Andrew.”
“No.”
“He always wants to know where people are.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“I want immunity.”
I almost smiled.
“You have been watching too many movies.”
“I have evidence.”
“Give it to your lawyer.”
“Andrew knew everything.”
“I already know.”
“Not everything.”
That made me pause.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your husband did not just agree to embarrass you.”
Her voice dropped.
“He planned to transfer part of your marital property before the divorce.”
“That is not possible.”
“He thought it was.”
“How?”
“He had signatures.”
My blood chilled.
“What signatures?”
“Yours.”
I stopped breathing for half a second.
I had signed hundreds of financial papers during the marriage.
But I had never authorized Andrew to transfer my trust assets.
Brenda continued.
“Ask him about the lake-house closing packet from last November.”
Then the call ended.
Victor was in my office within minutes.
We searched the archived family records.
Last November, Andrew and I had refinanced a small vacation property.
I remembered signing documents at home.
Andrew had placed colored tabs on every signature page.
I had trusted him.
The scanned closing packet contained two pages that did not belong.
One was an authorization appointing Andrew as limited financial agent for specific trust negotiations.
The signature looked like mine.
It was not.
The second page was worse.
A notarized acknowledgment.
The notary name belonged to a woman who had worked for Red Birch.
Victor stared at the screen.
“Forgery.”
I felt physically sick.
Andrew had tried to manufacture authority over assets he could never legally control.
My marriage had become an access point.
The emotional betrayal suddenly felt almost secondary.
I called my father.
He listened without interruption.
Then he said one sentence.
“Lock every trust instrument now.”
We did.
By noon, no asset connected to my name could move without dual authorization.
At one fifteen, Andrew arrived at headquarters again.
Security refused entry.
He stood outside the glass doors and called me.
I looked down from the twenty-sixth floor.
“You found the documents.”
Not a question.
“Yes.”
“Mariana, listen to me.”
“No.”
“Brenda created those.”
“You benefited from them.”
“I never used them.”
“You tried.”
He lowered his voice.
“You don’t understand what she was threatening.”
I looked at the city below.
“Then explain.”
May you like
For the first time, Andrew sounded truly afraid.
“She said if I didn’t cooperate, she would release something about your father.”
