“The guarantees remain effective only while certain representations made by Hargrove Holdings remain accurate,” he said.
“Those representations include the integrity of financial reporting and the absence of fraudulent conduct affecting the facilities.”
Grant laughed too quickly.
“Excellent.
Then there’s no problem.
Clara is the one who committed fraud.”
He pointed toward the documents on the floor as if he had just won the argument.
Daniel looked down at them.
“Then I assume you had these reviewed independently before accusing the guarantor?”
Grant hesitated.
It was small, but everyone saw it.
Eleanor stepped in immediately.
“Our people reviewed them.”
“Which people?”
“Our finance team.”
Howard looked at Grant.
“I wasn’t shown any of this.”
Another director spoke from beside the dining-room doors.
“Neither was I.”
Grant’s face reddened.
“Because this was sensitive.
I wasn’t going to circulate evidence of my wife’s theft until I had contained the situation.”
Daniel nodded once.
“Yet you invited board members to dinner.”
No one moved.
That was the first crack.
Not in the company.
In Grant’s story.
He had wanted important witnesses close enough to see my humiliation but apparently not close enough to examine his evidence.
Vanessa pushed away from the staircase.
“Why are we pretending this is complicated? Her name is on the transfers.”
Daniel finally looked at her.
“And you are?”
Her mouth tightened.
Grant answered for her.
“A family friend.”
I almost laughed.
Vanessa’s eyes flashed toward him, but she stayed quiet.
Daniel placed the questionable signature beside one of the guarantee documents from his folder.
He did not hand either document around.
He simply positioned them where Howard and the nearest director could compare them.
Even from several feet away, the differences were obvious.
The forged signature was smooth and hesitant, as if someone had traced a memory of my handwriting.
The real one was fast, angled, and finished with the same long upward stroke I had used since university.
Howard frowned.
“Grant, who prepared these copies?”
“Accounting.”
“Who in accounting?”
Grant stared at him.
“What difference does it make?”
Howard’s expression hardened.
“It makes every difference if you’re accusing the person guaranteeing our debt.”
There it was.
Not loyalty to me.
Not yet.
