Chapter 3 - The Missing Signature
The next morning, Sarah called before breakfast.
“I found something.”
Her voice was different.
Not frightened.
Focused.
“What?”
“There’s a private loan connected to Julian.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“One hundred twenty thousand dollars.”
I closed my eyes.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You’re listed as guarantor.”
I stood so quickly that my coffee spilled across the kitchen counter in the small hotel suite.
“I never guaranteed a loan.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say.”
Sarah emailed the document.
My name appeared on page seven.
Clara Whitmore.
Electronic signature.
Date.
IP verification.
A copy of my driver’s license was attached.
I stared at the signature.
It looked like mine.
Almost.
But Thomas used to tease me about the strange way I crossed the last letter in Whitmore.
The electronic signature lacked that small habit.
Someone had copied my name.
They had not copied me.
“What was the loan for?”
I asked.
Sarah hesitated.
“A company called B&M Lifestyle Group.”
“Who owns it?”
“I’m checking.”
I already knew.
Brooke and Margaret.
The initials were almost insulting.
B and M.
Brooke and Margaret.
By noon, Sarah confirmed it.
The company had been formed seventeen months earlier.
Margaret owned fifty-one percent.
Brooke owned forty-nine.
The listed business address was my house.
My house.
The same house where Brooke thanked me for “letting” everyone celebrate Christmas.
The loan application stated that I had agreed to guarantee the business because I was a family investor.
I had never invested a dollar knowingly.
Sarah arranged a meeting with the lender.
The representative, a man named Daniel Price, looked increasingly uncomfortable as I answered his questions.
“Mrs. Whitmore, our records indicate you attended a video verification.”
“I did not.”
He turned his monitor.
The verification image showed a woman wearing large glasses and sitting in a dim room.
The quality was poor.
The woman looked approximately my age.
But she was not me.
My hands became cold.
“Who is that?”
Daniel asked.
“I have no idea.”
Sarah leaned forward.
“Do you retain the original recording?”
“Yes.”
“Preserve it.”
Daniel nodded immediately.
“We will.”
He scrolled through the account records.
“The first payment came from Whitmore Household Services.”
Sarah and I exchanged a look.
“How much remains outstanding?”
I asked.
Daniel swallowed.
“One hundred six thousand.”
My heart pounded.
“What happens if the business defaults?”
“Normally, we would pursue the guarantor.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
I leaned back.
Suddenly the strange transfers made sense.
Money had been taken from me to make payments on a loan I had supposedly guaranteed.
They were using my money to prevent me from discovering they had used my identity.
It was almost elegant.
Until Christmas.
Until a $4,500 handbag made me ask the first question.
When I returned to the hotel that evening, Julian was waiting in the lobby.
He looked terrible.
Unshaven.
Red-eyed.
Still wearing yesterday’s coat.
“Mom.”
I stopped.
“How did you find me?”
“Brooke saw the hotel charge before you removed me from the card.”
Of course she did.
He stepped closer.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Then tell Sarah too.”
“No.”
“Then we have nothing to discuss.”
He caught my arm gently.
I pulled away.
His face crumpled.
“I didn’t know about the loan.”
I studied him.
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“I knew Brooke’s business was struggling.”
He lowered his voice.
“I knew she had borrowed money.”
“But?”
“I didn’t know she used your name.”
Something in his expression made me pause.
May you like
Then he said the sentence that changed everything again.
“But I gave her a copy of your driver’s license.”
