Chapter 2 - My Father’s Signature
My father had been dead for eleven years.
That made questioning him inconvenient.
Manuel Alvarez had arrived in Ohio with $2,400, imperfect English, and the belief that owning property was the closest thing America offered to permanent safety.
By the time I married Mark, Dad owned three small apartment buildings.
He sold one to give us $180,000.
That money started Crestview Developments.
At least that was the story I had believed for twenty-eight years.
The document in Andrew’s envelope told a different one.
Dad had not simply invested $180,000.
He had transferred development rights associated with 114 acres outside Columbus.
The land itself was owned through Blue Cedar Holdings.
I had never heard the name.
Mark had.
His signature appeared beside Dad’s.
So did another.
Ofelia Cross.
Mark’s mother.
My mother-in-law.
The woman currently living in my guest room.
I looked at Mark.
“What is Blue Cedar?”
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
“Laura, those records are confidential.”
Andrew laughed bitterly.
“My wife had them in her purse.”
Mark turned toward Brenda.
“What did you do?”
She looked scared now.
Good.
Because for the first time, I understood something.
Mark had not come to the hospital for me.
He had come because Brenda called him.
The affair suddenly seemed almost small.
I collected every page.
“I’m going home.”
Mark stepped in front of me.
“You’re not taking those.”
Andrew moved one crutch between us.
“Let her pass.”
Mark stared at him.
Then at me.
“Laura, if you misunderstand what you're looking at, you could destroy the company.”
I almost smiled.
Our company.
The word finally returned when he needed my cooperation.
“Then I suggest you start explaining.”
He didn’t.
So I left.
I did not go home.
I drove directly to my attorney, Cynthia Morales.
We had been friends since college.
She read the documents twice.
Then asked:
“Do you still own your Crestview shares?”
“Forty-nine percent.”
“Personally?”
“I think so.”
She looked up.
“You think?”
Mark had handled corporate restructuring three years earlier.
I signed documents.
Too many documents.
I had trusted my husband.
Cynthia requested copies.
Then she circled the Blue Cedar agreement.
“Your father’s signature may be real.”
“I know his handwriting.”
“That isn’t what worries me.”
“What does?”
“The date.”
June 4, 1996.
Three weeks before my wedding.
Blue Cedar existed before Mark and I married.
And according to the agreement, my father transferred the development rights not to Crestview.
Not to me.
To a partnership controlled by Mark.
Why?
Then Cynthia pointed to a handwritten clause.
Upon completion of twenty-five years of marital partnership, beneficial interest shall revert according to Schedule C.
“Where is Schedule C?”
It wasn’t there.
Someone had removed it.
Then my phone rang.
Ofelia.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
“Why?”
“Mark came home furious.”
I stared at Dad’s signature.
“Ofelia, what is Blue Cedar Holdings?”
Silence.
May you like
Then my mother-in-law whispered:
“Who told you that name?”
