Stolen Identity
Page 7
“But you never ended up meeting her?”
“No, and I never understood why.” Mrs. Peterson began slicing the warm cake. “I asked him several times, but he always had an excuse. I got the impression she wasn’t ready to meet his family, so I resigned myself to be patient.”
“Do you know where he met her?”
“He told me he’d met her online, which worried me. I don’t know anything about those online dating sites, but they certainly don’t seem to be the place to meet someone decent. How do you really know who’s behind the photo?”
Warning bells went off in Danielle’s mind. “So he never met her in person?”
“I’m not really sure. All I know is when I asked him a couple weeks later when he was going to bring her home, he just brushed off the questions. He never spoke of her again, so I assumed something went wrong and it had turned into another one of his broken relationships. I guess now I’ll never know.”
*
Jason followed Bruce Peterson into the house from the garage. The older man had hoped to finish the Suzuki bike he’d been restoring with his son by Christmas, but without Garrett’s help, Mr. Peterson had confessed he’d lost his motivation. Which was easy for Jason to understand. Being here in the familiar home where Garrett had grown up—without his friend here—only worsened the stinging reality that his friend was dead.
Inside the house, Mrs. Peterson had set plates of cake on the kitchen bar and was busying herself by pouring mugs of coffee…like she’d done dozens of times for him and Garrett before. He couldn’t begin to count the number of summer barbecue’s, Sunday dinners and Thanksgiving meals he’d spent here.
Jason lowered himself beside Danielle onto one of the bar stools and wondered how he should broach the next subject. But voicing his sympathy for one of his best friends wasn’t the only reason he was here.
“I know this is very personal,” he began. “But I need to know about Garrett’s finances. Have you been able to find out anything?”
“We have started going through his accounts.” Mr. Peterson glanced at his wife before continuing. “Garrett was always extremely meticulous with his record keeping, so that has made things easier. The first thing we noticed was a number of cash withdrawals over a period of about ten weeks, starting in June, that were taken from his savings account.”
“How much money?” Danielle asked.
“Roughly $15,000.”
Jason let out a low whistle. “That’s no small lump of change.”
“No, it’s not.” Mrs. Peterson stood across from him and jabbed at a piece of cake with her fork, before pushing the plate away. “And what makes it even more significant is that Garrett wasn’t a big spender. He was frugal, always living on far less than he earned.”
Jason nudged Danielle with his elbow. “We used to tease Garrett because of his brown bagging, frugal living habits. He definitely knew how to make just about anything last forever…but he’d also give the shirt off his back if needed.”
“Which is why I don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt him.”
Mr. Peterson took his wife’s hand and squeezed it. “You mentioned earlier that Garrett spoke to Danielle on the phone shortly before he died about being taken in by a scam. I’m assuming these cash withdrawals have something to do with this?”
“I think it does. I’ll need to get specifics on the withdrawals and any other financial information to Philip, one of my IT specialists. He’ll see if we can tie any of this together. What about Garrett’s retirement fund, IRAs or other saving accounts?”
“Far as I can see, none of his other accounts were touched.”
Danielle ran her finger around her coffee mug, her cake still untouched. “There is something else that stands out to me here, and that is the time frame. Assuming the information we have is correct, then at least two months have passed since Garrett’s last withdrawal and yet something clearly happened this week to set off our killer.”
Jason frowned. “Which implies that he was either dipping out of a different source of cash, or stopped the withdrawals.”
“What about a stolen ATM card?” Mrs. Peterson threw out.
“He would have noticed that,” Jason said. “This has gone on for at least what…four, maybe five months. If his card had been stolen, he would have reported and put a stop to them. I don’t think this money was stolen.”
Danielle set down her mug. “What if we’re looking at this all wrong? What if it wasn’t some random scam Garrett fell for, but instead a woman?”
Jason shook his head. “A woman?”
“Think about it. Mrs. Peterson told me that Garrett was dating a woman, and while things didn’t work out, for a time he was even considering marriage.”
“Garrett was thinking about getting married?” Jason shook his head. How was it possible to work side by side with someone, day in and day out and not know something as important as that? “He would have told me.”
“Maybe, but Garrett was private,” Danielle continued. “Clearly private enough to keep a relationship from his close friends and family.”
Jason still wasn’t convinced. “Where did he meet her?”
“Online. So maybe instead of someone stealing his identity, they preyed on his emotions.”
Jason took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee and tried to make sense of Danielle’s theory. “Out of any scenario I can think of, I suppose that one makes the most sense, but I still say that Garrett was too smart to fall for something like that.”
“The bottom line is that he fell for something…or someone,” Danielle countered. “Granted I didn’t know Garrett, but it seems like there is no dispute that at least $15,000 of his savings is gone, so unless he gambled the money away…”
“My son wasn’t perfect, but I can’t see him doing that, either,” Mr. Peterson interjected with a deep frown.
Danielle looked to Jason. “Which means we need to find this woman.”
If there really was a woman. But he wasn’t willing to overlook any possibilities. “It’s worth a try.”
It still didn’t answer why the cash withdrawals stopped. Or how Garrett had found out that Danielle was going to be next.
“What can we do?”
“You both know Philip. He’s already working on the case, and if anyone can track down this guy—or woman as it might be—Philip can. I’ll have him see if Garrett had been a part of a dating site.”
“Wouldn’t there be evidence on his computer?” Mr. Peterson asked.
“There should be, but if you want to hide a relationship, it isn’t hard. Garrett could have easily had email addresses we don’t know about and have been careful to cover his tracks.”
Jason dug into a bite of cake. If Garrett had found out that he was being scammed by his online girlfriend, he’d be too embarrassed for anyone to know he’d been a victim. Which would explain why he’d never mentioned anything to Jason about his latest love interest. He knew how the cons worked. The victim was worked over slowly for weeks or months. Then the perpetrator continuously needs money for urgent medical bills, passports or phone bills in order to continue communicating with the victim.
But why stop the demands for money? And even more importantly, why kill Garrett?
Jason set his fork beside the plate. Because Garrett had known something. Something worth killing for. The same information the hacker was demanding.
“Jason?” Danielle’s voice brought him back to the present. He’d share his ideas with Danielle later, after he had time to finish processing them.
“Sorry. We probably need to go, but I do have one last question.” He turned back to Garrett’s parents “Did he leave you any kind of package?”
“A package?” Mr. Peterson looked to his wife then shook his head. “No. Nothing. Why?”
“When I spoke to Garrett, he implied that he had sent me information. The problem is that I have no idea what it is, or where it could be.”
Mrs. Peterson grasped Jason’
s hand. “Just promise us you’ll find out the truth about what happened to our son. It’s hard enough to lose a child, but this way…this isn’t the way it’s supposed to happen.”
“You know I’ll do everything I can to find out the truth behind Garrett’s death.”
A few minutes later, Jason stepped into the chilly afternoon breeze with Danielle. A storm was moving in along the horizon, bringing with it ribbons of dark clouds reflective of the anger raging inside him. None of this should have happened. Not to the Petersons. Not to Garrett. Not to Danielle.
“You okay?” Danielle stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and brushed her fingers against his arm.
Her touch pulled him back to the present. “Just lost in thought for the moment. The more I think about it, the more I believe you might be right about the dating angle. Romance scams aren’t anything new, and while there are a few holes in our theory, this one seems to fit the best.”
Danielle’s phone rang as he reached to open her passenger-side door. She pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. “Unknown caller.”
“Do you want me to answer for you?”
“No…it’s okay.” She leaned against the side of the car and took the call. Jason tried to gauge her responses. Definitely not a close friend, but at least her voice wasn’t tinged with fear.
“Who was it?” he asked once she’d hung up.
“A car salesman.” She looked up and shook her head. “He called to let me know that there is a problem with the car I’m purchasing. Something about…something about my line of credit.”
The phone dinged again as a message popped up on the screen.
Danielle handed him the phone, and Jason felt a chill run down his spine as he read the text.
Time’s up.
EIGHT
Danielle slid into the cracked leather chair in front of the salesman’s untidy desk, wondering what she was doing in the stale-smelling office of a used car lot thirty miles from home. At first introductions, she’d realized that convincing the balding man in the out-of-date suit they’d never met wasn’t going to be easy.
“Mr…” Danielle shot up a prayer for wisdom, while glancing at the nameplate on his desk. “Mr. Audley. There seems to be some sort of problem. I have never been here before. Never bought a car from you.”
It was just like the bank. Trying to prove she’d never been somewhere. Never visited this office. Never drove off the lot with one of his cars.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Corbett, but as I tried to explain to you on the phone, the problem isn’t with the car…but your credit.”
“Mr. Audley.” Danielle looked briefly to Jason, tempted to let him handle the situation, but knew this was something she needed to tackle. “You’re not listening to me. I have never been here. I didn’t buy a car from you. I don’t want to buy a car from you.”
He shot her a patronizing smile. “You’re not the first person to come back with second thoughts over a purchase. Buying a car is a huge investment, but to be honest that’s not my problem at this point. I have your signature.”
He slid the paper across the desk for her to see.
Danielle shook her head. “That isn’t my signature—”
“What that means simply is that your interest rate will be higher than we first quoted.”
Danielle shoved the paper back across the table. She was tired of going in circles. “Mr. Audley, I need you to stop and listen to me. I didn’t sign this paper, and I don’t have your car. I’m not sure who came in here pretending to me, but you were conned.”
“Conned?” The man’s brow narrowed as he started looking around the office. “What is this? One of those TV reality shows?”
“Hardly.” Jason leaned forward and rested his hands against the edge of the desk. “But you can call it whatever you want. Swindled, bamboozled, duped…. Danielle isn’t the one who came in here to buy a car.”
Mr. Audley didn’t look convinced. “I don’t understand. All the paperwork was in order. Everything.”
“What about surveillance footage?” Jason asked.
“Surveillance footage?” He shook his head. “I sell a lot of cars, but with the economy the way it is, I’ve had to cut both my profit margin and expenses over the past couple years. Doesn’t leave much room for extras.”
“Then let’s start with this question,” Danielle began. “The woman who signed for this car. What did she look like?”
“Mrs. Corbett, I might not be making a good profit, but business is good. Everyone wants to buy a used car. I had two dozen people come in here yesterday alone.” Mr. Audley ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Multiply that by seven days a week, well…I’m sorry if I don’t remember every face.”
Jason glared at the car salesman. “Try to remember. It’s only been a couple days.”
“Fine.” He scratched the back of his neck and directed his answer to Danielle. “She was your build, I suppose, and your same hair color. Dressed nice, but a bit vintage and wearing this…black, slouchy beanie. It seemed a bit out of place. I mean it’s not really that cold outside.”
Danielle looked at Jason. “Trying to avoid the camera?”
Mr. Audley looked up again. “This really isn’t some joke?”
“No.” Jason and Danielle responded at the same time.
“Did she leave with the car?” Danielle continued.
“Yes.”
“We’ll need the make, color, plate number…anything you’ve got.” Jason added.
“Of course.”
Jason was right. They’d probably ditched the car, but any info they could pass on to the police was worth a try.
“Was there a man with her?”
“No. You…she came alone.” His already pasty skin had paled. “What do you suggest I do now?”
“We’ll be in touch, but you might want to file a report with the police.” Jason stood up. “Because trust me when I say that we want to catch whoever is behind this as much as you do.”
Danielle’s stomach clenched as she followed Jason across the gravel parking lot toward his car. “I’m not sure what we accomplished in there.”
“We proved there is a woman involved.”
A drop of rain splattered against her nose then ran down her cheek. Jason wrapped his arm around her and hurried her to the car, managing to help loosen the tangled knot of nerves in the process.
Danielle’s phone rang as Jason pulled out of the parking lot. She checked the ID. Unknown caller. Whoever it was, this wasn’t going to be good news.
“So have you finally realized that I’m serious?” The caller’s voice resonated deep and scratchy.
“Who is this?”
“You know who this is.”
“You have the car?” she asked.
“I thought I should show you exactly what I could do.”
She mouthed It’s him to Jason. “I don’t understand.”
“Really? Let me put it another way, then. Your twenty-four hours are up.”
“We don’t have what you want,” she insisted. “I can’t produce something I don’t have.”
“That’s not what I was told, which means I will continue to assume that you are lying.”
Danielle closed her eyes and drew in a shallow breath. Convincing him she wasn’t lying appeared to be useless. At some point they had to gain the upper hand.
“That is why I want you to see how I can get to you. Anywhere. Anytime. Don’t do anything that could make things worse for you. Just get me what I want. It’s that simple.”
“And if I still can’t get what you want?”
“I suggest you do, because at this point, I know everything I need to ruin you. I’ll give you another twenty-four hours, but after that, I won’t play nice anymore.”
Danielle shoved her phone into her pocket as a wave of nausea flooded her stomach. “I need to get out of the car.”
“Danielle?” Jason pulled the car on to one of the lookouts above the ocean. “What did he say?�
��
“I can’t do this anymore.”
*
Jason hurried after her as Danielle jumped out of the car and started down a narrow embankment toward the sea. Even though he also felt like running, somehow he was going to have to convince her that running away wasn’t an option. That the only way they were going to win this was by staying focused.
When he caught up to her, she was leaning over facing the sea, hands braced against her thighs while the wind whipped at her hair.
“Breathe slowly, Danielle.” He moved in front of her and rested his hands against her shoulders, hoping the rain would hold off. “Tell me what just happened. What did he say?”
She shivered in the chilly afternoon breeze. “He knows where I am, Jason. He can email me, call me…. He bought a car under my name just to show me that he’s in control, and I’m not.”
“Let me see your phone.”
She fumbled to pull it out of her pocket.
“I’ll have Philip see what he can do to trace the call, but there is a good chance he was using a burn phone.”
She shook her head. “A burn phone?”
“The kind they use all the time in the movies. For the most part they are untraceable, especially when used as disposable.”
She stood up slowly and pulled her hair away from her face. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Because you feel vulnerable? Everything you’re feeling right now is normal and none of this is your fault.”
Even he was at a loss as to what to do. Philip could only work so fast on the technical side, and even when they did make progress, it felt as if they were always a step behind.
“At some point, he’s going to make a mistake, and we will catch him.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “And until then?”
“We keep trying to figure things out.” He ran his thumb down her cheek.
“What if we don’t figure things out in time?”
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t promise her everything would turn out all right. He’d learned the hard way from their own rocky past that burying your head in the sand to avoid the truth didn’t change anything. “All we can do is take things one step at a time.”