And beside it, on the line legally designated for my name, was a jagged, hesitant scrawl — my name, but never written by my hand.

A clumsy forged trace, almost certainly lifted from one of the old joint tax returns she kept locked in her filing cabinet.

Clipped beneath the forged signatures was a note in Brannon’s stark hand, in red ink: Stuart — I caught the wire trace an hour too late; the funds cleared the dealership’s escrow this morning.

This is federal wire fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny.

Do not let Frances or Doreen leave.

The Columbus financial-crimes division has been briefed and is en route to your location.