Chương 13
The woman told me to file identity-theft reports with each affected creditor and place a credit freeze with all three major bureaus.
She also recommended a police report because the disputed accounts extended beyond their institution.
Nothing happened quickly.
Nothing happened magically.
There was no button labeled FIX YOUR LIFE.
There were forms.
Case numbers.
Mailing addresses.
Affidavits.
Deadlines.
The bureaucratic dullness was almost comforting.
Fraud had procedures.
Procedures implied other people had survived it.
When I finished, Celina was sitting on the curb outside the mailbox store.
Nadine stood beside her.
I remained on the sidewalk.
“Where did the nine thousand go?”
Celina looked up.
“I told you.”
“To Gideon.”
“Yes.”
“Where did he deposit it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you have a copy of the cashier’s check?”
“I can get one.”
“Do that now.”
Her mouth tightened.
“You could say please.”
I stared at her.
She looked away.
“Right.”
She opened her banking app.
The record showed a cashier’s check purchased July twenty-second for nine thousand dollars.
Payee: G. Avery.
“That doesn’t tell us where he deposited it,” Nadine said.
“No.”
“But it proves he got repayment.”
“Yes.”
Celina enlarged the image of the check.
“There’s something on the back.”
A scanned endorsement appeared.
Gideon’s signature.
Below it was a partial account number belonging to the receiving bank.
It was not our bank.
I took a screenshot.
“Do you recognize that bank?”
Celina did.
“It’s near my salon.”
“Did Gideon have an account there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he ever ask you to go inside?”
“No.”
Nadine looked at me.
“Maybe this is where the rest went.”
“Maybe.”
I was starting to hate that word.
Maybe had become the architecture of my morning.
Maybe fraud.
Maybe custody plan.
Maybe hidden accounts.
Maybe my husband had been building a case against me.
Maybe my sister had financed her business with stolen money while sleeping with him.
Maybe he had done all of this before.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Bernice Avery?”
“Yes.”
A man’s voice.
“Claire gave me your number.”
I stepped away from the others.
“Marcus?”
“Yeah.”
His voice was rough, cautious.
“I hear my brother’s telling people I’m dead.”
I closed my eyes.
“Yes.”
“Sounds like him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
He paused.
“Are you somewhere safe?”
The question was so direct that my pulse jumped.
“Yes.”
“Your kid?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I glanced toward Celina.
She was showing Nadine something on her phone.
“Claire said you might know why Gideon needed money.”
Marcus breathed out.
“I might.”
“What happened?”
“He called me in May.”
“What did he want?”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
The number hit hard.
“Why?”
“He said he had an investment opportunity.”
“Did you believe him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Gideon doesn’t ask for money unless he already lost money.”
My mouth went dry.
“Lost where?”
“Trading.”
“Stocks?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes what?”
“Options.”
I knew enough to dislike the word.
“Did he say how much he lost?”
“No.”
“Did you give him anything?”
“I told him to stay away from me.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not exactly.”
There was that phrase again.
“What did he do?”
“He reminded me about the debt from years ago.”
“The accounts in your name?”
Marcus went silent.
“Claire told you.”
“Yes.”
“He said if I didn’t help, he could make it look like I’d authorized everything back then.”
“Could he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why would that matter now?”
“Because I work in finance.”
I stopped walking.
“What kind?”
“Compliance.”
Of course.
The irony was too ugly to be funny.
“If an old fraud allegation resurfaced against you—”
“It could cost me my job.”
“Did Gideon know that?”
“He knew exactly that.”
A bus roared past.
I turned away from the street.
“Marcus, did he ever use your identity again after Claire found out?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Did he use Lily’s?”
“I heard something about it.”
“What about Roger?”
Silence.
“Marcus?”
“I don’t know.”
“But?”
“My brother keeps copies.”
“Copies of what?”
“Everything.”
“Where?”
“He used to have a fireproof box.”
My heartbeat quickened.
“In the house?”
“No.”
“Where?”
“Storage.”
“What storage?”
“A unit.”
“Do you know where?”
“Not anymore.”
“Was it under his name?”
Marcus laughed once.
“Never.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Is it still active?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you remember the company?”
“Yes.”
He gave me the name.
Nadine was already searching it on her phone when I repeated it.
There was one location nearby.
Less than four miles from our house.
Marcus continued.
“Bernice.”
“Yes?”
“If he’s doing this again, don’t assume the money is the main thing.”
“What is?”
“Control.”
I said nothing.
“He gets scared when he loses control of the story.”
My throat tightened.
“What does he do?”
“He creates a better one.”
I looked at Celina.
At the salon down the street.
At the mailbox behind us.
At the financial accounts on my phone.
At the text Gideon had sent telling me to think about Roger before I destroyed our family.
“What was his better story with you?”
Marcus took several seconds to answer.
“That I was the thief.”
A chill moved through me.
“Did anyone believe him?”
“For a while.”
“How?”
“He had records.”
“What records?”
“Transfers.”
“You said he took money from accounts in your name.”
“He moved some of it through my real account first.”
My stomach dropped.
“So on paper—”
“It looked like I received it.”
“Did he do the same to Claire?”
“Different version.”
I looked at Celina again.
Nine thousand dollars returned to Gideon.
Twenty-seven thousand from him to her.
Money moving between people.
Stories waiting to be told about who borrowed what.
“Marcus, could he make it look like Celina took the money?”
“Yes.”
“Could he make it look like I did?”
“If he had access to your accounts.”
“He did.”
“Then yes.”
I leaned against the brick wall.
May you like
For the first time since dawn, the shape of Gideon’s plan stopped looking chaotic.
The affair might have been reckless.
