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I look over the paper, trying to understand what it means as I read the name.
“Cherice Montgomery? Is that her real last name?”
“No. Check the date. Cherice Montgomery was born in 1946 and died back in the seventies. I did check out her records, and it looks like the social security number Cherry has on file matches Cherice Montgomery’s.”
“So, who was this woman?” I wonder if Cherry might have been named after her grandmother. “Was she related to Cherry’s aunt?”
“Not as far as I can tell. Virginia Bay doesn’t have any siblings who lived to adulthood. Her father had one brother, and her mother was an only child. Father’s brother had a son, but he died from some heart defect as a child. No living relatives as far as I can find.”
“What about great aunts or uncles?”
“Well, I went back a bit, and there are always distant relatives, but no one I can find had any contact with Virginia Bay and no one who’s related to Cherice Montgomery. My guess is that she was just a random dead person the forger picked out to use for the documents. We do that all the time when we’re giving someone a completely new identity.”
“Any indication of who altered the records or why?”
“The only thing I know for sure is that it wasn’t us. If we were going to doctor up official records, we’d do a good job of it, not this bullshit.”
“So, who else could it be?”
“My gut tells me it’s got to be a crime family—it’s the only thing that makes any sense. It has to be someone who isn’t concerned about breaking into a government building controlled by us, and that’s a limited group of people.”
I gnaw on my lip as I consider this, and I don’t like the only answer that makes any sense.
“You mean the Ramsays,” I say quietly.
“I don’t know who else it would be.”
“Why would the Ramsays alter Cherry’s birth certificate?”
Antony says nothing, and I don’t like the way this information is sitting with me. My stomach tightens up a bit.
“This goes back over twenty years,” I say. “There was a lot going on back then. The town hadn’t even been divided up yet, not officially anyway.”
“That’s around the same time the treaty between the Orsos and the Ramsays was created, yes. Division of businesses, territory—all of that was done around that same time.”
“So why would the Ramsays plant a forged birth certificate in our files?”
“Obvious, isn’t it?” Antony shrugs one shoulder and taps his finger on the paper. “It’s because they don’t want us to know who she really is.”
“And who is she?”
“That’s the big question, boss.”
“There is only one answer,” Pops says. “You know it, too.”
I glare at Pops, wondering why the fuck he’s up this late in the first place. I don’t remember him coming into the office, let alone loitering around next to his own portrait on the wall. I’m about to tell him to fuck off and go to bed, but Antony speaks first.
“How much do you really know about her, boss?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask, ignoring Pops as he rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you were right there when I brought her to our family dinners.”
“Yeah, I know that.” Antony rolls his eyes. “I mean, are you sure the story she’s giving you is the right one?”
“Get to the fucking point.” I don’t like Antony’s tone or the implications that go with it. I know Cherry. I just slept with her for fuck’s sake, and there’s no way she has any idea about any of this.
“You know how much this family means to me,” he says, “and that includes you. I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t check things out more. When I found the birth certificate, I had some suspicions, so I followed her today.”
“You followed Cherry?” I narrow my eyes at him. I hadn’t told him to do anything like that, and I’m not happy he went behind my back.
