Chapter 2 - THE LOAN TREVOR NEEDED
Vanessa called nine more times that night.
I answered none.
By morning, my mother had joined her.
Then Trevor.
Then my mother again.
Daniel made pancakes with Noah as though nothing had happened.
At 8:10, Noah held up a pancake shaped vaguely like Ohio.
“Emily, look.”
“That is either Ohio or a damaged dinosaur.”
“It’s Ohio.”
Daniel glanced over.
“It’s definitely a damaged dinosaur.”
Noah laughed.
For five minutes, everything felt normal.
Then Daniel’s phone rang.
He checked the screen.
His expression changed.
“Work?”
“Yes.”
He stepped outside.
I didn’t ask.
Ten minutes later, he returned holding his phone.
“Trevor’s company is one of ours.”
“One of your companies?”
“One of our borrowers.”
That got my attention.
“How much?”
“Fourteen million.”
I put down my coffee.
“What kind of loan?”
“Bridge financing on a mixed-use development.”
“And?”
“They’re asking for an extension.”
“How late?”
“Technically they’re not late yet. Covenant review is next week.”
I knew that tone.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Daniel sat down.
“The loan is already flagged.”
“For?”
“Cost overruns. Lower occupancy projections. Delayed permits.”
“Fraud?”
“Not that we know of.”
Yet.
My phone buzzed.
Trevor.
This time, I answered.
“Emily, hey.”
He sounded nothing like the man who had smirked into his wine at my wedding.
“Morning.”
“Listen, Vanessa may have overreacted last night.”
“She called nine times.”
He laughed too quickly.
“She was surprised.”
“I imagine.”
“Daniel never mentioned Mercer.”
“He mentioned his last name.”
Silence.
Then Trevor lowered his voice.
“I was hoping we could all have dinner.”
“Why?”
“You’re family now.”
There it was.
Family.
The magical word people discovered when they needed something.
“What do you need, Trevor?”
He paused.
“Nothing personally.”
“Then?”
“Our firm has a routine financing extension under review.”
“Fourteen million dollars is routine?”
Silence.
Daniel looked at me from across the kitchen.
Trevor recovered.
“You know about it.”
“Daniel mentioned it after you called.”
“Great. Then you understand there’s no issue.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Emily, I’m not asking you to interfere.”
“Good.”
“Just maybe let Daniel know Hartwell is solid.”
I almost laughed.
“I’m a forensic accountant, Trevor.”
“So?”
“So asking me to tell a lender that a borrower is ‘solid’ without reviewing the financials is a very strange choice.”
His voice hardened slightly.
“You’re taking this too seriously.”
“No. You’re taking it too casually.”
I ended the call.
Daniel leaned against the counter.
“You enjoyed that.”
“A little.”
Then my work phone pinged.
Not personal.
Corporate email.
I opened it.
Someone had sent a message to my office account.
Subject:
INTRODUCTION — HARTWELL / MERCER.
Attached was a PDF.
I frowned.
“What is it?”
I opened the file.
It was a letter supposedly written by me.
To Mercer Commercial Capital.
It described Trevor as “family,” called Hartwell Development “financially disciplined,” and encouraged Mercer to provide “every reasonable accommodation.”
At the bottom:
Emily Carter Mercer, CPA.
My full married name.
My professional designation.
And a digital signature.
I had been Mrs. Mercer for four days.
I had never created that signature.
Daniel stood behind me.
His face changed.
“Where did that come from?”
I checked the sender.
Hartwell Development.
Trevor’s executive assistant.
The metadata showed the document had been created at 6:42 that morning.
Less than an hour after Vanessa learned who Daniel really was.
I forwarded it to my firm’s preservation archive.
Then to myself.
Then to Daniel.
He stared.
“You’re not angry?”
“I am.”
“You don’t look angry.”
“Twelve years in forensic accounting.”
I closed the laptop.
“Angry people delete things.”
“What do you do?”
“I preserve them.”
My phone rang again.
Vanessa.
This time I answered immediately.
“Emily, before Trevor calls you, I need to explain something.”
I looked at Daniel.
“He already called.”
Silence.
Then Vanessa whispered:
“Oh.”
“And someone just forged my professional endorsement.”
Another silence.
Longer.
“Vanessa.”
“I didn’t write it.”
I believed that part.
May you like
Then she said something more interesting.
“But I know who did.”
