Sam nearly choked. "I would like to be consulted before retirement."
That actually made William smile.
Then he reached the last page: a signed statement supposedly from me. *I authorize Blue Ridge Land Partners to speak on my behalf regarding property access, inspection, preliminary maintenance, and possession planning.* Same fake signature.
Rachel placed it beside the earlier agreement. "Exact."
William looked closer. It was not similar: exact. The same digital image had been used repeatedly.
Then Deputy Harris asked, "Who provided these?"
William checked. "Blue Ridge Land Partners, through Brookstone's property manager, Steven Cole."
"Yes, another name returning," Rachel said. "Did Steven personally confirm authenticity?"
"Yes."
My stomach tightened. "What did he say?"
William read from an email: *Owner has fully agreed. Any direct contact at this stage may create confusion.*
I laughed. "Confusion."
Rachel shook her head. "Direct contact would have created clarity."
"Exactly."
Then William's phone rang. He stepped outside to answer. Five minutes later, he returned looking worried. "The bank has frozen tomorrow's review."
"Good."
Then he looked at Rachel. "They also found something else." Nobody spoke. He continued, "The $800,000 deposit was not the only money connected to Phase Three."
My stomach tightened. "How much?"
"Another 500,000 was released for pre-development work."
"To Brookstone?"
"Partly." He opened the banking portal. "Blue Ridge Land Partners, of course."
"How much?"
"300,000."
"And the other 200,000?"
"A company called Parker Community Planning."
I stared at Linda through the kitchen window. Parker—her last name.
Rachel searched state business records. "Owned by Linda Parker."
Sam said what all of us were thinking: "You have got to be kidding."
William looked genuinely surprised. "That relationship was not disclosed in the loan packet."
Rachel looked at him. "Then your bank has a problem, too."
He nodded. "Yes."
That mattered: he did not try to hide it. The bank had relied on information it should have checked more carefully. Now it was checking. Good.
Deputy Harris asked if he could photograph the documents. William said the bank's legal department would provide copies properly: no roadside shortcuts, slow, correct.
Then Charles Bennett arrived. He walked into the kitchen carrying his laptop. "Daniel, please tell me you have good news."
"I do not."
"Of course." Charles sat down. "The board treasurer found the $800,000 transfer to Blue Ridge."
"Yes."