Chapter 2 - THE GUARANTEE
My accountant’s name was Aaron Bell.
He had handled my small architectural-consulting firm for six years.
He was not dramatic.
That was why his silence frightened me.
“I never guaranteed a loan.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“What property?”
“Your parents’ house.”
I stood.
The chair scraped backward.
The payment I had canceled—$3,214 every month—was labeled HARBOR FINANCIAL.
Dad told me it was a supplemental mortgage arrangement after their roof repair and property-tax increase.
I had been paying it for fourteen months.
I thought I was keeping their house stable.
“Send me everything.”
“I already did.”
The loan packet appeared in my inbox.
Borrowers:
Richard Mercer.
Diane Mercer.
Guarantor:
Ethan James Mercer.
My name.
My old business address.
My Social Security number partially masked.
My electronic signature.
I had never seen the document.
The loan had been originated eighteen months earlier.
Principal:
$420,000.
Current balance:
$398,721.
Collateral:
My parents’ house in Evergreen.
Additional guarantor support:
Me.
My hands went cold.
“How did they get my information?”
Aaron answered carefully.
“You’ve given your parents tax records before?”
“Dad helped with insurance paperwork after my divorce.”
“Any digital signature platform?”
“Yes.”
“Password sharing?”
I closed my eyes.
Once.
Two years earlier.
Dad needed a copy of a business insurance certificate while I was traveling.
I sent him a temporary password.
He said it didn’t work.
I reset the account.
That was all I remembered.
“Do not accuse anyone yet,” Aaron said.
“I know.”
“Get counsel.”
“I know.”
“And Ethan?”
“What?”
“The loan proceeds didn’t stay with your parents.”
I sat again.
“Where did they go?”
“Most were transferred within ten days.”
“To whom?”
“I can trace about two hundred eighty thousand so far.”
“To Lauren?”
May you like
Silence.
That was yes.
