He typed for a moment, his screen reflecting in his glasses.
“We have a wire transfer from October twelfth,” Marcus said, pointing to the monitor. “Seventy-five thousand dollars, moved to an external account.”
“Who authorized the transfer?” I asked.
“It required two signatures,” Marcus said, printing a copy of the authorization slip. “The first is Ethan Rowan. The second signature is yours, Claire.”
He slid the paper across the counter.
I looked at the black ink on the second line.
“This is not my signature,” I said.
“It looks very close to the one we have on file,” Marcus said, leaning forward. “But the stroke on the letter C is completely flat. Usually your signature has a slight loop at the start.”
“Whose account did the seventy-five thousand dollars go to?” I asked.
“I cannot give you the owner’s name without a formal board resolution,” Marcus said, sliding the paper back toward his drawer.
“Is there an account number listed?” I asked.
