Vanessa did.
“Of course we did.”
“Which records?”
“The property database.”
“The tax assessment database?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
I nodded.
Now Gavin understood there was a trap somewhere.
I could see him searching for it.
“The assessment database updates slowly,” I said.
“So?”
“So sixteen months ago, the deed to my loft was transferred.”
Vanessa’s face went blank.
“Transferred to who?”
“Ironwood Asset Holdings LLC.”
No one moved.
I continued.
“The company is solely owned by me. But legally, the company and I are separate parties.”
Gavin stood so abruptly his chair rolled backward.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“That would show on the county site.”
“On the recorder’s title registry. Not necessarily on the public tax assessment page you apparently used.”
“That’s impossible.”
I took the document from the folder and placed it on the desk.
Recorded deed.
Stamped sixteen months earlier.
Ironwood Asset Holdings LLC.
Grantee.
Property description matching my loft.
Vanessa picked it up.
Her fingers trembled.
I could almost see the last seven months rearranging themselves inside her head.
“The authorization still—”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“The power of attorney—”
“Was revoked.”
“But even if—”
“Even if it were valid, it was a personal authorization. It never gave you authority to act for Ironwood.”
Gavin grabbed the deed.
He read it once.
Then again.
His face lost color.
“You own Ironwood.”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s still your property.”
“Economically? Yes. Legally? Ironwood holds title.”
“That’s technical.”
“Banking runs on technical.”
He paced to the windows.
“Meridian funded the loan.”
“They did.”
“They recorded the lien.”
“They recorded a lien based on a borrower authorization from someone who didn’t own the collateral.”
“They’ll still pursue you.”
“Maybe.”
I deliberately allowed uncertainty into my voice.
Not because I was uncertain.
Because I wanted him talking.
Gavin turned.
“If they can’t enforce against the loft, they come after the borrower.”
There it was.
He had finally reached the same conclusion I had.
Vanessa looked between us.
“What borrower?”
Gavin didn’t answer.
I did.
“The people who signed the loan application.”
Her mouth opened.
“We signed on your behalf.”
“You attempted to.”
The room seemed to shrink.
For the first time, Vanessa looked frightened rather than defensive.
“Claire.”
I picked up my phone.
She stepped forward.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Meridian.”
“No.”
The word came out instantly.
Not angry.
Terrified.
That interested me.
“You’ve been telling me for an hour Meridian won’t care about any of this.”
“They won’t.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”
I unlocked my phone.
Gavin crossed the room fast.
“Don’t call them yet.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“We should have attorneys involved.”
“You didn’t need my attorney before using my signature.”
His face hardened.
“Claire, listen to me.”
Vanessa moved beside him.
“We can fix this privately.”
“That’s what you said twenty minutes ago.”
“I mean really fix it.”
“How?”
She glanced at Gavin.
Then back at me.
“We can sell things.”
“What things?”
Her eyes flicked toward the parking lot.
The SUV.
That was when I realized something.
They weren’t afraid Meridian would discover the forged loan.
They were afraid Meridian would discover where the money had gone.
I lowered my phone.
Not because I had changed my mind.
Because suddenly, I wanted to know exactly what I was about to uncover.
“What did you buy,” I asked quietly, “with my three-point-two million dollars?”
Vanessa looked at her husband.
And Gavin’s expression told me the answer was going to be much worse than payroll.
### Part 4
Gavin went very still.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
I looked at Vanessa.
“How much?”
She sat down again.
“Claire—”
“How much of the money actually went into his company?”
Gavin answered.
“Enough.”
I laughed once.
It wasn’t amusement.
“That isn’t going to work anymore.”
He walked toward the desk.