Chapter 4 - The Missing Two Hundred Forty Thousand.
After the officers finished documenting the bedroom damage, Lorraine was told to leave the property for the day.
She protested loudly.
She demanded that Andrew be called.
She threatened to sue me.
Then one officer quietly informed her that throwing a heavy object toward someone’s head could result in criminal charges.
Lorraine stopped shouting.
Rebecca offered to drive her to a nearby hotel.
Lorraine refused.
She called Andrew.
He did not answer.
That seemed to hurt her more than being removed from the house.
When she finally left in a taxi, I locked the door behind her.
For the first time in two years, the house became silent.
Megan sat beside me at the kitchen island.
“Show me the text.”
I handed her my phone.
She read it twice.
“Do you know anything about a two-hundred-forty-thousand-dollar loan?”
“No.”
“Could Andrew have borrowed against the cottage?”
“He doesn’t own it.”
“Could he have forged something?”
My stomach turned.
Andrew knew where I stored copies of my financial records.
He knew my Social Security number.
He knew my signature better than anyone.
Rebecca remained at the dining table.
Her face had become increasingly pale.
“There’s something I should tell you.”
We turned toward her.
“Natalie mentioned Andrew was waiting for money from an investment.”
“What kind of investment?”
“She didn’t know.”
Rebecca pulled out several screenshots.
Andrew had told Natalie that he expected a large payment once “the Rochester property paperwork cleared.”
He had also promised to put two hundred thousand dollars toward a new home they would buy together.
The numbers were beginning to align.
Megan immediately pulled my credit reports.
Nothing appeared.
Then she checked county property records.
No new mortgage had been recorded against the house.
For several minutes, I felt relieved.
Then Megan stopped typing.
“What?”
She turned her laptop toward me.
A limited liability company had been created six months earlier.
Parker-Morgan Property Holdings LLC.
The registered organizer was Andrew Parker.
I stared at the name.
“He used my name.”
“Yes.”
“Am I listed as an owner?”
Megan searched.
“No public ownership details.”
Rebecca leaned closer.
“What would he use that company for?”
Megan’s expression tightened.
“Potentially many things.”
We searched Andrew’s home office.
I hated myself for hesitating at the door.
Even after everything, part of me still believed opening his desk drawers was an invasion of privacy.
Then I remembered the woman wearing a robe inside my cottage.
I opened the first drawer.
Invoices.
Receipts.
Pens.
The second drawer contained old tax records.
The third was locked.
Megan looked at me.
“Do you have the key?”
“No.”
Rebecca pointed toward the bookshelf.
“There.”
A small brass key sat behind a framed photograph of Andrew and Lorraine.
The drawer opened.
Inside was a black binder.
The first page contained documents for Parker-Morgan Property Holdings.
The next page contained photocopies of my passport and driver’s license.
Then we found a loan application.
Borrower one.
Andrew Parker.
Borrower two.
Claire Morgan.
Loan amount.
Two hundred forty thousand dollars.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
I had never signed it.
Megan whispered a curse.
Rebecca covered her mouth.
My knees suddenly felt weak.
I sat down.
Andrew had not simply cheated.
He had attempted to use my identity.
Then Megan turned the page.
The loan was secured against a commercial investment property.
I frowned.
“We don’t own commercial property.”
Megan looked at the address.
Rebecca looked over her shoulder.
Then she gasped.
“What?”
“That address.”
She pointed.
“That’s where Natalie works.”
I stared at her.
Natalie was a manager at a private physical therapy practice.
According to the documents, the building had recently been purchased by Parker-Morgan Property Holdings.
Megan searched the county database.
The purchase price was six hundred eighty thousand dollars.
The down payment had been two hundred forty thousand.
The lender listed both Andrew and me as guarantors.
My name.
My credit.
My forged signature.
But that still did not explain where the two hundred forty thousand dollars had actually come from.
Then my banking app sent an alert.
A transfer request had been initiated from the investment account containing the remainder of my grandmother’s inheritance.
Amount requested.
$241,850.
Recipient.
Parker-Morgan Property Holdings.
I looked at the timestamp.
May you like
The request had been submitted eight minutes earlier.
Andrew was trying to take the money right now.
