Thomas did not.
“It means,” he said, “that someone forged my wife’s signature.”
A murmur passed through the guests.
Vanessa looked at her father. “You told me the estate was being sold after the wedding.”
Richard’s eyes flicked toward her. “I told you there was a business arrangement.”
“You told me Daniel’s parents were going to give us the house.”
Daniel stared at her.
The color drained from his face. “You knew about this?”
Vanessa looked at him, then back at Richard. Her mouth opened, but no words came.
Margaret began to shake harder.
Thomas put the document on the bandstand table and stood between her and the crowd. “Forty-eight hours ago, our solicitor called me. He had received a notice from the county office asking why Margaret had signed a transfer of property she had never seen. I went to his office. He showed me this.”
“Forgery is a very serious accusation,” Richard said.
“I know.”
“You have no proof.”
Thomas removed a second document from his envelope.
“I have the original signature card from our bank. I have the solicitor’s forensic comparison. I have the security footage from our office showing you entering the file room while Margaret was at the florist.”
Richard stared at him.
“And,” Thomas continued, “I have the email you sent to the county clerk asking why the transfer had not yet been recorded.”
The guests had stopped pretending not to listen. They stood beneath umbrellas and awnings, dressed in silk and formal black, watching the wedding collapse around them.
Vanessa turned slowly toward her father.
“Why would you do that?”
Richard’s jaw worked.
“Because the property is worth more than you understand.”
“No.” Her voice cracked. “Why would you do that to them?”
Richard looked at her with something close to impatience. “They were never going to leave it to you. I was making sure you and Daniel had a proper future.”
Daniel laughed once. It was a hollow, stunned sound.
“You were stealing his parents’ home.”
“I was negotiating an asset transfer.”
“With a forged signature?”
Richard had no answer.
