Chapter 3 - WHAT I SIGNED
The document was seven pages.
I had read one.
That was my first failure in the financial part of what followed.
Not Ainsley’s.
Mine.
Three months earlier, after complaining about clutter in the storage room, I had signed an Estate Access and Inventory Authorization.
It allowed Ainsley to:
Schedule pickups.
Open storage units.
Transport listed household items for appraisal.
Obtain nonbinding valuations.
Coordinate conservation or repair.
It did not allow her to sell property.
Page six said it explicitly.
NO TITLE TRANSFER OR CONSIGNMENT AUTHORITY.
My signature appeared only on page seven.
Had Ainsley hidden page six?
No evidence.
The company emailed the entire packet to both of us.
I had received it.
I had not read it.
That mattered.
Naomi said:
“You need to stop telling yourself carelessness makes you the same as someone who exceeded authority.”
“I gave her the door.”
“She chose what to carry through it.”
Both true.
Merritt Estate & Fine Goods opened Monday morning.
The manager, Claire Benton, agreed to preserve records.
Ainsley had delivered eleven items.
Nine from the keepsake inventory.
Two pieces of furniture.
She presented herself as:
Authorized household estate manager.
Did she show sale authority?
For appraisals, no.
For two items already sold, yes.
My stomach dropped.
“What two?”
The sapphire bracelet.
A pair of diamond earrings that had belonged to Eira’s mother.
Sale proceeds:
$17,900 after fees.
$11,600 after fees.
Total:
$29,500.
“Where did the money go?”
Merritt sent it to an account supplied by Ainsley.
Not mine.
Not Eira’s.
Ainsley’s personal account.
Naomi asked:
“What authorization did she give for sale?”
Claire produced a scan.
HOUSEHOLD PERSONAL PROPERTY RELEASE.
My name.
My signature.
I stared.
It looked like mine.
But I knew immediately.
“I didn’t sign that.”
Naomi did not say forgery yet.
Good lawyer.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
A document examiner would decide how.
The signature might have been copied from the access form.
Maybe electronically reused.
Evidence later.
No dramatic conclusion yet.
Then another problem.
The sale release classified both pieces as:
Property of Galen Wexley, surviving spouse.
That was wrong.
My late wife’s estate plan had specifically assigned certain personal property to Eira through a custodial arrangement.
I had been custodian.
Not owner.
I had nearly forgotten because Eira was a baby when the estate closed.
Naomi retrieved the probate inventory.
The sapphire bracelet:
FOR EIRA WEXLEY AT AGE 18; CUSTODIAN GALEN WEXLEY.
Diamond earrings:
Same.
Locket:
Same.
Several photographs and letters had no market value but were separately listed as preserved family effects.
Ainsley had sold my daughter’s property.
Not mine.
That changed everything.
I went home and opened every closet.
Photographs missing.
A silk evening bag gone.
Two framed sketches gone.
My late wife’s wedding shoes gone.
Not all valuable.
Why take those?
Then Brynn arrived.
She held one of Eira’s drawings.
“Galen.”
“What?”
“Did Ainsley ever tell you she wanted to redo Eira’s room after the wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Did you agree?”
“To paint it.”
Brynn looked at me.
“She showed me a design board last month.”
I frowned.
“What design board?”
“No photos of her mother.”
My throat tightened.
“What did she say?”
“That Eira needed a clean emotional transition.”
Transition.
That word would appear again.
Naomi called at 8:20 that evening.
“Ainsley’s attorney contacted me.”
“What does she want?”
“She denies forging your signature.”
“Of course.”
“She says you verbally authorized liquidation of ‘legacy clutter’ to offset wedding and household expenses.”
I almost dropped the phone.
“What wedding expenses?”
Naomi paused.
“Apparently there are more than you know.”
Then she emailed me a vendor ledger.
Outstanding wedding balance:
$126,400.
Deposits already paid:
$74,000.
Source of several deposits:
Ainsley’s account.
The same account that received the proceeds from Eira’s bracelet and earrings.
I stared at the numbers.
May you like
My daughter’s inheritance had helped pay for the wedding to the woman who wanted her mother erased.
And the wedding was not even the largest bill Ainsley had been hiding.
