Chương 9
Loaning me his truck after my first car died.
Then another image replaced it.
My name in somebody else’s handwriting.
I got out.
Inside, the lobby smelled like floor cleaner and old air conditioning.
The officer at the front desk asked how he could help.
My mouth went dry.
“I need to report identity theft.”
He slid a form toward me.
“Do you know who may have done it?”
I looked down at the blank line marked SUSPECT, IF KNOWN.
For several seconds, I could not move the pen.
Then I wrote my father’s name.
The officer read the name, then looked at me.
“Relationship?”
“My father.”
He did not react.
That somehow made it easier.
He asked for my identification, copies of the loan documents, the account number, and any evidence showing I had not authorized the application.
I handed over the printout from the lender.
He studied the signature.
“This yours?”
“No.”
“You ever give him permission to apply for credit on your behalf?”
“No.”
“Ever co-sign anything for your brother?”
“No.”
“Did your father have access to your Social Security number?”
“Probably.”
The officer looked up.
“Probably?”
“My parents kept copies of old tax forms, school documents, stuff like that.”
He nodded and wrote something down.
“Was the vehicle purchased locally?”
“Yes.”
I gave him the dealership name.
“Vehicle currently where?”
“Behind my apartment.”
“Your apartment?”
“My brother drove it there last night.”
“Who has the keys?”
“He does.”
“Who’s on the title?”
“I don’t know yet.”
The officer tapped his pen against the form.
“You’ll want to find out.”
He asked whether I wanted to pursue charges if the investigation supported fraud.
The question should have been simple.
It wasn’t.
“I want my name off the loan.”
“That’s separate.”
“I know.”
He waited.
The lobby hummed around us.
Somebody at another desk was arguing about a parking citation.
A little kid played with the zipper on his mother’s purse.
I looked at the officer.
“Yes.”
My voice sounded smaller than I expected.
“Yes, I want to pursue it.”
He nodded and checked a box.
There was no dramatic shift after that.
No siren.
No detective appearing from a hallway.
He gave me a case number and explained that financial crimes could take time.
I walked back outside holding a single sheet of paper.
My hands shook once I reached the truck.
I sat behind the wheel and called the credit bureaus.
I froze my credit.
I changed banking passwords.
I changed the password on my email.
Then I stared at the contact labeled Dad.
I did not call.
He called me twenty-three minutes later.
I watched the screen ring until it stopped.
Then it rang again.
On the third call, I answered.
“What did you do?”
No hello.
His breathing was heavy.
I looked through the windshield at the police station entrance.
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Then say it.”
“You reported me.”
I closed my eyes.
“How do you know?”
“The lender called.”
That made sense.
The fraud review had probably triggered contact with whoever had been making payments.
Dad continued.
“You went to the police?”
“Yes.”
“You reported your own father to the police over a car?”
“Over identity theft.”
“It is not identity theft.”
“Then whose signature is on the loan?”
“You agreed to help Jake.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“We talked about it.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“Where?”
“At the house.”
“What did I say?”
He hesitated.
I almost smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because for once, vagueness was not going to carry him.
“What exactly did I agree to?”
“You said family helps family.”
I laughed.
“You used that as permission to take out eighteen thousand dollars in my name?”
“You’re twisting it.”
“I’m looking at paperwork.”
“The payments are current.”
“Mom said the same thing.”
“Because it matters.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“It absolutely matters.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“If I forged your signature on a loan and made the payments, would you call that okay?”
He went quiet.
I waited.
He said, “You’re not me.”
“That’s convenient.”
“You’ve always had a chip on your shoulder.”
“About what?”
“About Jake.”
I laughed again.
“Is that really where you want to go?”
“You think everything we’ve done for him came out of your pocket.”
“Some of it literally did.”
“You lived under our roof.”
“I paid to live there.”
“Not market rent.”
“Apparently enough to cover the mortgage.”
His voice rose.
“You keep throwing that around like you bought the damn house.”
“I never said I bought it.”
“You act like it.”
“I act like I don’t want to finance it anymore.”
There was a long pause.
Then he said, “Do you understand what could happen to me?”
The anger left his voice.
That was worse.
I looked down at the case number in my hand.
“Yes.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You forged my name.”
“I was going to refinance.”
“When?”
“As soon as things settled.”
“When was that going to be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
“Mike.”
His voice cracked slightly.
I had never heard that before.
Not once.
“You don’t have to do this.”
I swallowed.
“You already did it.”
He hung up.
I stayed parked for another ten minutes.
Then I drove back to work.
Luis did not ask questions.
He only pointed toward Bay Four and said, “Transmission issue.”
I nodded.
For the next three hours, I worked.
At five-thirty, I found Jake waiting beside my truck.
He looked terrible.
“You okay?”
He shook his head.
“Dad called me.”
“I figured.”
“He said you’re trying to get him arrested.”
“I filed a report.”
“That sounds like getting him arrested.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
Jake shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
“He wants the car back.”
“It’s behind my place.”
“He said I need to bring it home.”
“Don’t.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because I still don’t know who legally owns it.”
“It’s my car.”
“No, it isn’t.”
May you like
His face tightened.
“You don’t get to say that.”
