I read Laura Bennett’s message several times before answering. She claimed to have a document Grant believed no one would ever find, but she still hadn't explained what it was or how she had obtained it. After everything that had happened, I wasn't prepared to trust another stranger simply because she seemed to know the right details.
I typed, “If you have evidence, send it to Dad’s attorney. I won't arrange a private meeting without knowing who you are.”
Her reply came quickly.
“That's fair. I'll contact Martin Ellis tomorrow morning. Please tell your father not to confront Grant tonight.”
I stared at the screen.
The request sounded reasonable, but it also suggested that Laura knew Grant well enough to anticipate what he might do if he discovered she had contacted us. I forwarded the exchange to Martin and then went into the study to tell Dad what had happened.
He was sitting at his desk with his notebook open, comparing the dates of his appointments with the notes he had made about Vanessa and Grant. When I mentioned Laura's name, he removed his reading glasses.
“Does she say where she worked with Grant?”
“No. She says she'll contact Martin.”
Dad considered that.
“Then we'll let her do it. If she has something useful, the attorney can determine what it proves.”
I sat across from him.
“Are you worried about what else might come out?”
He looked down at the notebook.
“I'm worried about how much of this I still don't know. That's different from being afraid of the truth.”
For the first time that evening, I saw a trace of the man who had taught me to repair a bicycle chain and change a flat tire. Dad had never been comfortable with uncertainty, but he had always believed that a problem became manageable once someone was willing to examine it honestly.
The next morning, Martin called at 9:20. Laura had contacted his office and arranged to meet him that afternoon. She had provided her full name, her former employer, and a brief description of the document she wanted to discuss. Martin would not disclose its contents until he had reviewed it, but he confirmed that her account appeared connected to Grant's previous employment.
Dad asked whether we could attend the meeting.
Martin agreed, provided we understood that Laura might be asked to give a formal statement and that any original documents would need to be handled carefully.
We arrived at his office shortly before two.
Laura was already waiting in the conference room. She looked to be in her early forties, with dark hair tied back and a plain brown coat folded over the chair beside her. A canvas bag rested at her feet. She stood when we entered, but her hands remained clasped tightly together.
“Mr. Cole,” she said to Dad. “I'm sorry we've had to meet under these circumstances.”
Dad shook her hand.
“I'm more interested in understanding what happened than in hearing apologies from people I haven't met.”
Laura nodded, accepting the rebuke without argument.
Martin introduced everyone and asked her to explain her connection to Grant. She had worked at a small financial services firm where Grant had been employed for several years. Her job involved reviewing paperwork, maintaining client records, and checking whether forms were complete before they were sent for processing.
Grant, she said, had often complained about the rules. He disliked waiting for approvals and believed that paperwork was an obstacle between him and the result he wanted.
“Did you ever see him falsify a document?” Martin asked.
Laura hesitated.
“I saw him alter forms after they had been signed. I can't say what he intended in every case, but I reported one incident to my supervisor.”
Martin asked her to describe it.
She explained that Grant had been working on an authorization form for a client who wanted a relative to assist with financial matters. The form required the account holder's signature and a separate verification page confirming that the necessary checks had been completed. When Laura reviewed the file, she discovered that the verification page was missing.
Grant told her it had been misplaced and asked her to approve the remaining paperwork.
She refused.
A few days later, she found a replacement page bearing information that did not match the original file. She raised the discrepancy with her supervisor, and the document was removed from the processing queue while the matter was reviewed.
“What happened to the original page?” Martin asked.
Laura opened her bag and removed a clear plastic sleeve.
“I kept a copy before the file was returned to Grant. I shouldn't have done that without authorization, and I understand why it may raise questions. But I was worried the original record would disappear.”
Inside the sleeve was a photocopy of a verification page. The form included a reference number and a date from the previous Friday. The signature section was blank.
Dad leaned forward.
“Is this connected to my accounts?”
Laura pointed to the reference number.
“It matches the number on the document you found in your study.”
Martin compared the page with the photographs we had provided. The reference number matched. The wording was similar to the draft marked Friday, and the page included a section requiring confirmation from the account holder.
But the date was different.
The document Laura had brought was from several months earlier, not the previous Friday.
Martin asked why she believed Grant's current form was connected to it.
“Because he contacted me last week,” Laura replied. “He asked whether I still had copies of the old authorization paperwork. He said he needed to understand what had gone wrong with a family document.”
“Did he mention Frank?”
“No. He called it a personal matter. But he specifically asked whether a missing verification page could prevent an authorization from being accepted.”
Dad's jaw tightened.
Martin asked whether Laura had responded.
“I told him the same thing I told him when we worked together. If the form required verification, he couldn't simply pretend the requirement didn't exist.”
“Did he ask you for the copy?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I refused.”
Laura explained that Grant became angry and accused her of trying to sabotage him. He said the page was needed to resolve a family dispute and that someone could lose a valuable property if the paperwork wasn't completed.
She had recognized the pattern from their former workplace. Grant was attempting to make an incomplete document appear ready for use.
“I didn't know he was planning to tell people his father-in-law was dead,” she said. “I only learned that part after I saw a post in a local community group about a family dispute involving Frank Cole.”
Dad looked surprised.
“Someone posted about me?”
“Not by name at first. The post referred to an elderly man whose daughters were arguing over his estate. Then someone commented that the man had supposedly died.”
Martin asked Laura whether she had saved the post.
She had. She opened her phone and showed us a screenshot. The wording was vague, but the timing matched the morning Vanessa had called me.
Laura said she had contacted Grant after seeing the post. She wanted to know whether he had used a document from their former workplace. He denied it and told her to mind her own business.
She had then decided to contact Martin.
Dad sat back, looking at the photocopied verification page.
“So this proves Grant has dealt with similar paperwork before,” he said. “But it doesn't prove he used this particular page in my case.”
“Correct,” Martin replied. “It provides context and a reference to compare. We still need the document he prepared for your situation.”
Laura nodded.
“I believe he has it. He told me last week that he had finally found a way around the verification problem. I didn't ask what he meant.”
The room went quiet.
Martin asked whether she had any messages from Grant that supported her account. Laura opened her phone and produced several texts. One asked whether she still possessed the old verification page. Another said, “I don't need the original if I can establish the same authority another way.”
A third message, sent two days later, read, “Forget it. I've handled the problem.”
Dad read the messages without speaking.
“Did you respond?” he asked.
“I told him I wasn't going to help him bypass a required signature. After that, he stopped contacting me.”
Martin asked Laura to provide copies of the messages and a signed statement describing how she had obtained the document. She agreed, though she wanted confirmation that the original copy would be kept secure and not circulated unnecessarily.
Martin assured her that it would be handled as confidential evidence to the extent permitted by the applicable process.
When the meeting ended, Dad thanked Laura. She seemed relieved, but not entirely at ease.
At the door, she turned toward me.
“There's something else I should tell you. Grant wasn't only trying to solve a financial problem. He was under pressure from someone he owed money to. He spoke about it at work more than once.”
“Who?”
“I don't know the person's full name. He called him Mr. Mercer.”
Martin asked Laura whether she could identify the man or provide any further details. She said she could not, but she remembered Grant mentioning that the debt had grown larger than he expected.
Dad's face tightened.
“Was he being threatened?”
“I don't know. He was worried, but he also seemed convinced he could solve everything if he got access to enough money.”
After Laura left, Martin placed the new evidence in a separate folder and explained what it did and did not establish. The photocopy showed that Grant had previously dealt with a similar verification requirement. The messages suggested he had been searching for a way around the missing-page problem. Neither fact proved that he had successfully altered or submitted the current form.
But it gave us a clearer reason to investigate.
Dad looked at the reference number again.
“Mr. Mercer,” he said quietly. “I wonder how much money Grant owes him.”
Martin said he would not investigate Grant's debts merely out of curiosity. However, if the debts were connected to attempts to obtain Dad's property or financial information, that connection could become relevant.
On the drive home, Dad remained silent. I knew he was thinking about Vanessa, who had admitted signing the form but insisted she hadn't understood what Grant intended.
“Do you think she knew about the old authorization page?” I asked.
“I don't know.”
“Could she have helped him?”
Dad kept his eyes on the road.
“It's possible. But I won't accuse her without evidence.”
That evening, Vanessa sent Dad a message asking whether he would meet her for coffee. She said she wanted to explain something about the form and promised she wouldn't bring Grant.
Dad showed the message to Martin, who advised that any discussion should be documented and that Vanessa should be asked to provide the actual form she had signed.
Dad agreed to meet her the next morning.
Before bed, I checked my phone one last time.
Laura had sent a final message.
“Please be careful. Grant knows someone has been asking questions. If he thinks the document is in your hands, he may try to get it back.”
I forwarded the message to Martin.
Then I looked toward the hallway, where Dad had left the study light on.
For the first time, I wondered whether the missing verification page was only one piece of a much larger plan—and whether Grant would risk even more to keep us from discovering the rest.
Click here to continue reading: PART 14: Vanessa Arrived With the Form She Had Signed, but One Handwritten Sentence Exposed What Grant Had Told Her to Believe
My Sister Announced Our Father’s Death While He Sat Across From Me, and Her Next Words Revealed What She Really Wanted
Part 13 of 20
