Chapter 6 - The NotaryMelissa Grant called me the next afternoon.
The mobile notary.
I expected defensiveness.
Instead, her first words were:
“I’m glad you called.”
That got my attention.
“Did you notarize my signature?”
“No.”
Relief hit so fast I had to sit down.
Melissa continued.
“I met your husband at the unit last Thursday. His mother was present.”
“What did he ask you to notarize?”
“An affidavit related to occupancy and several signatures belonging to him.”
“Did you see a power of attorney?”
“Yes.”
“Did you notarize that?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because your signature was already on it.”
That mattered.
A notary doesn’t normally notarize a signature someone claims another person made days earlier when that person isn’t present.
Melissa said Daniel told her the power of attorney had been notarized remotely.
But something looked wrong.
“The stamp was blurry,” she explained. “And the commission information didn’t format correctly.”
“You thought it was fake?”
“I thought it needed verification.”
“What happened?”
“I told Daniel I would notarize only his own signatures after checking his ID. I refused to certify anything about your signature.”
My pulse steadied.
“So what papers did you notarize?”
“A statement that he was executing a proposed residential lease as your attorney-in-fact, plus an affidavit saying he believed he had authority.”
Daniel had signed those himself.
Melissa had simply verified Daniel was Daniel.
That did not make the underlying power valid.
“Did he get angry?”
“Yes.”
Anita had remembered raised voices.
Now I knew why.
“He said his wife was traveling and impossible to reach,” Melissa continued.
I almost laughed.
Daniel had spoken to me every day.
Sometimes twice.
“What did Lorraine say?”
“She kept asking whether the lease was ‘official now.’”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Melissa hesitated.
“There’s something else you should know.”
“What?”
“Your husband asked if I knew anyone who could notarize a signature without the signer present.”
I went still.
“What did you say?”
“I told him no legitimate notary should do that.”
“Did he say why?”
“He said you had signed the document already but were too busy for a video call.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Did you make notes?”
“Yes. I keep a journal.”
That journal might matter later.
Rebecca handled the next steps.
I didn’t need to turn myself into an investigator.
That was another thing I had to learn.
Being capable did not mean doing every job personally.
By evening, we had a clearer picture.
Daniel had constructed a fake power of attorney before Melissa arrived.
Melissa refused to validate it.
He then used the questionable document anyway when submitting the loan package.
The title company’s verification process caught the inconsistency before funding.
The system had worked.
Barely.
That night, Daniel texted.
Can we please talk like husband and wife instead of opposing counsel?
I stared at the message.
Then another appeared.
I never intended to hurt you.
That phrase bothered me.
Intent.
As if damage mattered only when planned.
I finally replied.
Tomorrow. Rebecca’s office. 2 p.m.
He answered immediately.
Without lawyers.
I typed:
No.
May you like
For the first time in our marriage, I wasn’t negotiating the terms of a conversation just to keep Daniel comfortable.
CTA: The notary had refused to help Daniel—but he had submitted the fake document anyway. Now he had to explain why.
