Chapter 14 - The Woman Who Borrowed My Voice
Karen Holt agreed to meet with the attorneys only after receiving written confirmation that I would not contact her employer.
I found that insulting.
Then Priya reminded me that frightened people often negotiate for the protection they understand.
Karen arrived wearing a tan coat and carrying a purse she never removed from her shoulder.
She looked ordinary.
That bothered me more than if she had looked sinister.
Nothing about her suggested she had recently borrowed another woman’s identity for a commercial loan.
She sat across from me.
“I’m sorry.”
I had become suspicious of apologies.
“What exactly are you sorry for?”
Karen looked toward her attorney.
He nodded.
“For participating in the call.”
“Did you know you were pretending to be me?”
“Yes.”
The room tightened.
“Why?”
“Derek told me the guarantor had already approved everything but couldn’t attend.”
I stared at her.
“So you thought impersonating someone on a lender verification call was normal?”
“No.”
“Then why did you do it?”
Her fingers tightened around the purse strap.
“He owed me twenty-eight thousand dollars.”
“For what?”
“Work.”
“What kind of work?”
She hesitated.
“Bookkeeping. Property management. Some administrative things.”
Priya leaned forward.
“What administrative things?”
Karen’s attorney spoke quietly to her.
She closed her eyes.
“Creating tenant letters.”
I remembered the fake eviction notice Vanessa had admitted making.
“What kind of letters?”
“Late notices. Payment demands. Renewal letters.”
“Real ones?”
“Some.”
My stomach turned.
“And the others?”
Karen looked down.
“Derek liked paperwork.”
I almost laughed.
“He liked paperwork?”
“He said people believed documents more than conversations.”
The sentence chilled me.
Because he was right.
A logo.
A signature.
A deadline.
People trusted paper.
I had.
Karen explained that Derek maintained templates for nearly everything.
Tenant notices.
Investor updates.
Receipts.
Vendor invoices.
Letters from supposed contractors.
Most represented real transactions.
Some did not.
That ambiguity had protected him.
A fake document hidden among twenty legitimate ones was harder to notice.
“When did you first see my information?” I asked.
“Last summer.”
Before the birthday dinner.
Before mediation.
Before everything.
“On Mom’s laptop?”
“I don’t know where he got it.”
She opened a folder.
Inside were printed screenshots of files Derek had sent her.
My tax return.
My old loan agreement.
A scan of my driver’s license.
I froze.
“I never scanned that license for my mother.”
Vanessa spoke from beside Rachel.
“You scanned it for me.”
I turned.
Her face had gone white.
“When?”
“The Sheridan apartment application.”
Memory returned.
Vanessa had forgotten her wallet.
She needed identification to reserve the unit.
I had texted her a photograph of my license because she claimed the leasing agent needed proof from a prospective cosigner.
I had never agreed to cosign.
She had said she would delete it.
“You kept it.”
“I forgot about it.”
“Where?”
“Old email.”
Karen looked miserable.
“Derek had all of it.”
Priya asked the obvious question.
“What was Mr. Sloan trying to accomplish with the refinance?”
Karen inhaled.
“Pay off investors before they discovered how much money was missing.”
Dad’s five thousand dollars flashed through my mind.
Aaron’s accounting questions.
The delayed distributions.
“How much is missing?”
Karen hesitated.
“More than the loan.”
Nobody spoke.
My heart beat hard.
“How much?”
“Last time I saw the internal books?”
She looked at Derek’s former girlfriend, then at me.
“About seven hundred thousand.”
Vanessa made a small sound.
Karen continued quickly.
“Some may be legitimate expenses. I’m not saying he stole all of it.”
“But you thought the records were false enough to impersonate me?”
Her eyes filled.
“He said if the refinance failed, nobody would get anything back.”
“So you helped him create another lie to cover the earlier lies.”
“Yes.”
The simplicity of the answer was almost refreshing.
Priya asked whether Karen had copies of the internal records.
“I kept backups.”
Her lawyer stiffened.
“Karen.”
She shook her head.
“I’m done protecting him.”
She pulled a small encrypted drive from her purse.
No one touched it.
Priya immediately told her to keep possession until counsel established a proper transfer.
That was Priya.
Even in the middle of a revelation, she respected procedure.
Karen looked at me.
“He told me you’d never notice.”
Something inside me hardened.
“Why?”
“He said you were rich enough not to pay attention.”
The same excuse.
Different person.
Different theft.
Same assumption.
If Claire had enough, taking from her was not really taking.
I stood.
“I think we’re done for today.”
In the hallway, Vanessa followed me.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
She did not come closer.
“I know you may never trust me again.”
I looked at my sister.
“I trusted you again.”
The words made her flinch.
“That’s what hurts.”
She started crying.
I wanted to comfort her.
The impulse was still there.
Maybe it always would be.
May you like
But I let the feeling exist without turning it into an obligation.
Then I walked toward the elevator alone.
