Caroline set a second folder beside the check. “Kevin tried to deposit this three weeks before Christmas,” she said. “The bank froze it because the signature did not match the one Robert filed years ago, and they called me instead of you.” She folded her hands again. “He owes nearly forty thousand dollars to people you would not want to meet, Margaret. The check was only the beginning.”
My mouth went dry. “What else?” Caroline opened the folder. Inside were property papers with my name forged again, this time on a listing agreement for my house. Jessica’s email was printed on the cover sheet. A buyer was waiting, and the closing was set for tomorrow at ten o’clock. Then my phone rang, and the screen read Kevin.
