Chapter 6
"Repay everyone?"
I stared at my wife.
The words didn't make sense.
Not because I hadn't heard them.
Because I couldn't believe she'd said them.
I looked at the woman I'd married nine years earlier.
The woman who used to leave little notes inside my lunch bag.
The woman who sat beside me in the hospital when my father had heart surgery.
The woman who knew every fear I'd ever confessed.
And now she was admitting she'd used my name to convince people to invest money in a project that might never have existed.
I felt physically sick.
"Nia, where was the repayment money supposed to come from?"
She wiped her eyes.
"The next investment."
I stared.
"What next investment?"
She shook her head.
"Jasmine said we needed more investors to cover the early expenses."
My chest tightened.
I leaned back.
There it was.
The pattern.
Money coming in.
Money going out.
New investors paying old obligations.
I didn't need to be a financial investigator to understand how dangerous that sounded.
"Did you know there wasn't enough money to repay everyone?"
Nia hesitated.
"Not at first."
"And later?"
Her eyes filled.
I waited.
Finally, she nodded.
My stomach dropped.
"When?"
She whispered, "About three months ago."
I closed my eyes.
Three months.
Three months during which she continued asking me to support Jasmine.
Three months during which she smiled across the dinner table.
Three months during which she let people believe their investments were safe.
I opened my eyes.
"Did you keep bringing in investors after you knew?"
She shook her head.
"I stopped."
I stared at her.
"Did Jasmine stop?"
"I don't know."
I looked down at the statements.
There were deposits from the previous month.
Money had still been coming in.
I pointed toward them.
"Then somebody didn't stop."
Nia began crying harder.
"I didn't know how to fix it."
I took a slow breath.
"You should have told the truth."
"I was scared."
"So were the people who trusted us."
She looked at me.
"They don't know yet."
I felt anger rise.
"They're going to know."
She shook her head.
"Derek, please."
I stood.
"I'm not helping you hide this."
She reached for my arm.
I gently stepped away.
"Whatever happens next, we do it legally and honestly."
Her face crumpled.
"Are you going to report me?"
I stared at her.
"I am going to report the unauthorized loan and cooperate with the investigation."
She began sobbing.
I wanted to comfort her.
That instinct was still there.
Nine years of marriage didn't disappear in one day.
But I couldn't let love become permission to ignore harm.
I took my phone.
Then called Raymond.
We arranged a meeting with an independent attorney for Nia.
He explained that she needed legal advice separate from mine because our interests might conflict.
I agreed.
I wasn't going to force her into a conversation without understanding her rights.
But I also wasn't going to protect a lie.
The next morning, I contacted the lender's fraud department.
I reported that my identity had been used without authorization.
They opened a formal review.
I provided the loan documents and explained the circumstances.
The representative told me the investigation would take time.
I understood.
I also requested copies of my credit reports and began taking steps to protect my accounts.
Then I met with Raymond.
We reviewed the investment materials Anthony had supplied.
There were photographs of a beautiful brick apartment building.
Detailed financial projections.
Renovation estimates.
And a professional-looking presentation.
My company's logo appeared on the final page.
I stared.
"They used my logo."
Raymond nodded.
"Did you authorize that?"
"No."
He made a note.
The presentation also listed Victor Lane as project director.
Jasmine Carter as managing partner.
And Nia Washington as investor relations coordinator.
I felt cold.
Nia hadn't simply attended a meeting.
She had a formal role.
Raymond looked at me.
"Did she ever tell you she was working in investor relations?"
I shook my head.
"No."
He nodded slowly.
"We need to preserve everything."
Over the next several days, more investors came forward.
Anthony contacted people who had attended the meeting.
Some had received monthly updates.
Others had been promised returns.
One elderly woman had invested part of her retirement savings.
A young couple had used money intended for their first home.
I felt sick hearing their stories.
My company name had helped create trust.
Now that trust was shattered.
I met with Anthony privately.
He looked exhausted.
"Man, I don't know what to tell Maya."
I swallowed.
"Tell her the truth when you're ready."
He shook his head.
"I promised her that money would help with college."
I felt my chest ache.
I wanted to write him a check.
To fix everything.
But Raymond had warned me not to make private repayment promises that could complicate the investigation or create confusion about responsibility.
Instead, I promised to cooperate fully and help preserve the evidence.
Anthony nodded.
"I know you didn't authorize it."
I looked at him.
"But my wife did."
He didn't answer.
That silence hurt.
Later that evening, Nia called me from her attorney's office.
Her voice was shaking.
"Derek?"
"Yes."
"Jasmine's gone."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Her apartment is empty."
My stomach tightened.
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
I stood.
"Nia, what happened?"
She began crying.
"Victor isn't answering either."
I looked toward Raymond, who was sitting across from me.
He noticed my expression.
I put the call on speaker.
Nia continued.
"I went to Jasmine's apartment. The landlord said she moved out yesterday."
My chest tightened.
"And Victor?"
"His number is disconnected."
I closed my eyes.
The people who controlled the money were disappearing.
Then Nia whispered something that made me go still.
"Derek, there's something else."
I waited.
"Jasmine left me a message."
"What did it say?"
May you like
Her voice broke.
"She said if anyone goes to the police, she'll tell them I planned everything."
