“I am,” I said, turning my head to look directly at Bell, then shifting my gaze to Chris. Chris didn’t look back; instead, he began adjusting the cuff of his shirt, a subtle nervous tic I knew well. “Because on November fourteenth of last year, I wasn’t even in the state of Washington.”
I reached into my briefcase and pulled out a neatly bound folder, placing it on the table.
“Pursuant to the discovery requirements, I have prepared the certified travel logs, flight receipts, and passport stamps from my business trip to Vancouver, British Columbia,” I explained. “From November tenth through November twentieth, I was attending a real-estate development conference. I have hotel bills, corporate credit card receipts, and three separate affidavits from local developers who sat in meetings with me on the exact day this document was supposedly notarized in Tacoma.”
The atmosphere in the courtroom shifted instantly. The smug confidence that had filled the plaintiffs’ side of the room seemed to evaporate. Arthur Bell looked down at the documents I had just submitted, his hands moving quickly as he flipped through the pages of my travel itinerary. His eyes widened slightly as he reached the certified copy of my passport.
Judge Brown gestured to the bailiff to bring the folder to the bench. For several minutes, the only sound was the turning of pages and the distant roll of thunder outside.
“Mr. Bell,” Judge Brown said, her voice dropping into a register that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Did your clients provide you with the original notary journal entry, or merely this copy of the agreement?”
“Just the agreement, Your Honor,” Bell stammered, his professional composure beginning to fracture. “My clients assured me the notarization was handled through standard channels.”
“Miss Manning’s passport shows she passed through Canadian customs on November tenth and did not re-enter the United States until November twentieth,” Judge Brown noted coldly. She looked over her spectacles at Nicole and Chris. “Which means it was physically impossible for her to have signed this document in front of a notary in Pierce County on November fourteenth.”
Nicole’s face went entirely pale. The perfect, cream-suited exterior seemed to shrink. She turned sharply to Chris, her lips moving silently as she looked at him with sudden panic. Chris’s face had turned a deep, mottled red. He tried to speak, but only a dry cough came out.
