Chapter 6
The recorded verification call lasted less than four minutes.
I listened in Samuel's office.
Malik sat beside me.
Attorney Carter joined us.
The voice on the recording was male.
Calm.
Confident.
And completely unfamiliar.
The caller claimed to be Elijah Bennett.
My father.
He gave Dad's birth date.
His old address.
And information about his retirement account.
I felt sick.
Whoever made the call knew details my father rarely discussed.
Then the bank representative asked a security question.
The caller answered correctly.
I stared at the speaker.
My hands began trembling.
Malik touched my arm.
"Dad?"
I shook my head.
"I'm okay."
But I wasn't.
My father had spent his final months fighting illness.
Someone had apparently been using his identity to obtain money.
The caller approved a loan request.
Then provided an email address.
Samuel paused the recording.
I leaned forward.
"Can we identify the email?"
He nodded.
"The lender has preserved the account information."
Attorney Carter reviewed the documents.
The email address contained the name of a small consulting company.
Walker Financial Services.
I felt cold.
Patricia Walker.
Denise's sister.
The same woman who'd sent the message about moving funds before they were frozen.
I closed my eyes.
I remembered Patricia visiting our house.
She was loud.
Friendly.
Always wearing expensive jewelry.
She called me "little brother."
Brought gifts for Malik.
And constantly offered advice about investments.
I'd never trusted her financial suggestions.
But I hadn't imagined she would use my father's identity.
"Is Patricia the caller?" I asked.
Samuel shook his head.
"We don't know."
I nodded.
The voice was male.
Someone else might have been involved.
We needed evidence.
Not assumptions.
Attorney Carter explained that the recording and account records should be provided to the appropriate investigators.
Samuel agreed.
Malik sat quietly.
Then he asked:
"Did Grandpa know somebody was pretending to be him?"
Samuel looked sad.
"He suspected unauthorized activity."
My son's eyes filled.
"Was he scared?"
My throat tightened.
Samuel took a breath.
"He was worried about protecting you."
Malik began crying.
I wrapped an arm around him.
For several minutes, we sat together.
Then Malik whispered:
"Grandpa should've told Dad."
I closed my eyes.
I knew why he hadn't.
Dad had tried to tell me something before he died.
I was too busy.
Too distracted.
Too determined to avoid conflict with Denise.
The memory hurt.
I looked at Malik.
"He tried."
My son turned toward me.
I swallowed.
"And I didn't listen."
His expression softened.
"Dad..."
I shook my head.
"I can't change that."
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
"But I can listen now."
Malik leaned against me.
I held him tightly.
Over the next several weeks, investigators reviewed the suspicious loan.
Bank records.
Email accounts.
Phone information.
And business transactions.
The evidence suggested that Walker Financial Services had received part of the loan proceeds.
Some money appeared to have been used for Denise's event-planning business.
Other payments went toward personal expenses.
I felt sick.
Denise hadn't simply borrowed money because her business was struggling.
She'd been using a complicated set of transactions that kept the true source of the funds hidden.
Then Attorney Carter called.
"Marcus, there's another issue."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"The financial review shows that Denise's company owes several vendors."
I sighed.
"How much?"
"More than forty thousand dollars."
I closed my eyes.
That explained some of the desperation.
But not the deception.
I took a breath.
"Can creditors come after me?"
Attorney Carter explained that liability would depend on the contracts, ownership, and applicable law.
She began reviewing which obligations I'd personally signed.
I nodded.
I wanted to protect our household finances without avoiding legitimate responsibilities.
Meanwhile, Malik focused on school.
He was in his final year.
College applications were due.
And he'd been accepted into an advanced engineering program.
One afternoon, I found him sitting at the kitchen island.
His laptop was open.
A spreadsheet filled the screen.
I smiled.
"Whatcha working on?"
He looked up.
"College costs."
I sat beside him.
He showed me a budget.
Tuition.
Housing.
Books.
Transportation.
Emergency savings.
I felt proud.
"That's impressive."
He shrugged.
"Grandpa taught me."
My throat tightened.
"He did?"
Malik nodded.
"Every summer, he'd make me help organize his bills."
I laughed softly.
"That sounds like him."
Malik smiled.
"He said money isn't what makes you smart."
I raised an eyebrow.
"What does?"
"Knowing what you're doing with it."
I laughed.
"Exactly."
Then he looked at me.
"Dad, do you think I'll get into Georgia Tech?"
I smiled.
"I think you have a strong chance."
His eyes widened.
"Really?"
I nodded.
"But even if you don't, there are other great schools."
He looked relieved.
For a moment, I realized how different this conversation felt from the one in our kitchen weeks earlier.
No accusations.
No shouting.
No fear.
Just a father helping his son plan a future.
Then Malik asked something unexpected.
"Dad, can I get a part-time job?"
I frowned.
"Why?"
He looked down.
"I want to earn some money myself."
My heart softened.
"You don't have to prove anything."
He nodded.
"I know."
Then smiled.
"But I want to."
I thought about Dad.
The way he taught me to work.
To save.
To take pride in earning something.
I nodded.
"Let's find something that doesn't interfere with school."
Malik grinned.
"Thanks, Dad."
He hugged me.
For a moment, I felt hope.
Then my phone rang.
Attorney Carter.
I answered.
Her voice sounded serious.
"Marcus, investigators have identified the person who made the verification call."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
She paused.
"A man named Raymond Walker."
I frowned.
I knew the name.
Patricia's husband.
A quiet man who rarely spoke at family gatherings.
I felt cold.
"Raymond?"
Attorney Carter continued.
"Evidence indicates his phone was used for the call, and investigators are seeking further information."
I stared at the wall.
Then she added:
"Marcus, Patricia and Raymond may have been working with Denise on the loan application."
My hands began trembling.
The conspiracy was larger than I'd imagined.
But the worst part was still ahead.
May you like
Because Denise had once told me Raymond was the only person she trusted to help manage our family's financial future.
And now I understood why.
