Chapter 7 - What a Signature Can Cost
Kira read the new demand twice and placed it face down.
“Tony's lawyers can request relevant communications in the civil case,” she said. “That doesn't mean the directors have to give him everything on demand. We can challenge scope and protect privileged material. But you need to stop trying to manage this on your own.”
“I called Joanne because she had the power to stop the transfer.”
“And she did. That was the right instinct. From now on, let counsel communicate anything that might turn into evidence.”
A federal judge considered a request to preserve funds while investigators traced them. Tony’s lawyers argued that disputed invoices did not establish fraud and that a sweeping freeze could harm workers. Prosecutors supplied records and declarations. It was an asset hearing, not a verdict.
The judge permitted some restraints but required procedures to address payroll and ordinary operating expenses. She did not order every company Tony touched shut down. That mattered. Hundreds of people worked in buildings he owned, and they needed wages regardless of what their employer had done.
In the hallway a reporter shouted, “Mrs. Rinaldi, were you the one who signed the Bayfront contract?”
“Yes,” I said before Kira could stop me.
“Did you know the money went missing?”
“No. I learned about the mismatches later, and I've cooperated with the investigation.”
The reporter started another question. Kira touched my arm. We walked on. By evening, one station aired only the first answer. My face appeared beneath a headline that said RINALDI WIFE ADMITS SIGNING CONTRACTS. My full answer was available online, but shorter clips traveled farther.
That night, I almost called Tony to ask whether he was proud of what he'd done to us. The impulse embarrassed me. I could survive a stranger misunderstanding my words. I had spent too long begging my husband to understand them.
Joanne brought a practical problem to Kira's office the following week. The independent Harbor House directors had identified thirty-four households with unpaid or incomplete grant commitments. The charity still had a small unrestricted balance, but the disputed accounts couldn't safely be spent. Donors were angry. Some demanded refunds; others wanted help delivered immediately.
“People ask me whether they should trust us,” Joanne said. “I don't blame them.”
“What are your options?” Kira asked.
“Pause the old program, publish a credible accounting, and seek temporary assistance through organizations that aren't tied to Tony.”
I offered to coordinate volunteers. Joanne shook her head.
“You can help with the records, Laura. But we can't put you back in charge of the decisions. Not while your signatures are under review.”
Her words stung because they were fair.
So I spent a week indexing letters, not choosing recipients or touching money. Mrs. Brennan's was one of them. I matched her grant request to the original approval and the apparent disbursement, then marked the outcome unknown pending independent verification. It was harder to write unknown than a reassuring green check mark. It was also more honest.
At a civil conference, Tony’s companies claimed I harmed their reputation and mishandled confidential records. Some questions, especially involving donor privacy, required serious answers. I would not let my good intentions erase any legal limits.
She looked over the table at me. “If you testify, they'll ask why you signed reports without looking at the backup. They will ask why you waited until this year to act.”
“I know.”
“They may ask whether you ever suspected Tony before you contacted the FBI.”
I picked up Mrs. Brennan's letter, copied on Kira's stationery. I could answer that one truthfully. I had suspected problems. I'd chosen to think they were administrative rather than criminal because that was easier on our marriage.
“I want to tell them exactly that,” I said.
Kira reached for her legal pad. “Then there's one more thing we have to review.”
May you like
She turned her laptop toward me. On the screen was an old email, sent from my account to Tony's office eight years earlier.
The subject read: Bayfront approvals—please use my signature for anything that needs to go out while I'm away.
