The Mistaken

by Nancy S Thompson

  I spun around in his arms and pulled back. “Her? What makes you think it’s a girl?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Wishful thinking, I guess. I keep picturing a little girl with long, dark curls and eyes that melt my heart. Man, will I be in trouble with two of you.”

  I couldn’t help but smile, but then I shook my head and ran my fingers along his brow. “Well, I think it’s going to be a boy with eyes the color of a summer sky. Just like his daddy.” I pressed my lips to his and curled my arms around his waist.

  He pulled me in tight and returned the kiss. I felt a slight flutter deep within me, as I often had over the last week or two, but then suddenly, I reared back with a gasp as a firm kick poked me from inside.

  “Oh my God! Did you feel that?” I asked.

  “Feel what?”

  I grabbed his hand and pressed it to my belly. After a moment, another jab startled us both. He gasped this time, his eyes round and wide.

  “I felt that,” he exclaimed with a huge grin. “Wow! That’s...amazing. Thank you.” He leaned in and kissed me again. “I love you. You know that, right?” He cupped my face and pulled my forehead to his lips. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Ever. I couldn’t live without you.” He smoothed his palm over my belly. “Either of you.”

  We stood there smiling at each other like idiot teenagers, a quiet moment of deep bonding, but it was interrupted by his cell phone’s God Save the Queen ringtone. He pulled it from his front pants pocket and checked to see who was calling.

  “Ah, it’s David Sharp. Let’s hope he has good news. Escrow should be closing any day.” Excitement danced across Ty’s face as he drifted away and received the call from our mortgage broker. But his smile, so enthusiastic when he first answered, faded away quickly. His mouth drooped open and his brow knitted in concern.

  “What? You’re sure? And there’s nothing we can do?” he asked David after a long silence. He stood and listened for a moment longer then his shoulders sagged as he dragged a hand over his face. “Right. I understand. Well, I guess we’ll try again in a few months then.” He paused again and looked me in the eye. “Right. Okay, we’ll talk to you then. Yeah, thanks David.” He ended the call with a sigh and a shake of his head.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as a nervous flutter rolled through my stomach.

  “David said the bank ran a final credit check on us yesterday. He said it’s routine just before escrow closes, to make sure we haven’t run up any undisclosed debt.”

  “Yeah, so. Why would that be a problem? We don’t have any large balances.”

  “Well…it seems we do. Or at least you do.”

  “What? No way! I only have the one credit card and I only used it once up in Napa right before we got married. That charge was for less than a hundred bucks, and I’ve already paid it off. There is no balance.”

  “Not according to your report. Apparently, there’s an $18,000 balance as of two weeks ago.”

  “$18,000!”

  The flutter in my stomach rolled higher as bile rose up into my throat. Thundering down the short hall, I raced for the bathroom and vomited. My arms and legs shook as I knelt on the floor and gripped the toilet. Tyler followed in behind me and held back my hair, his palm swirling in slow, comforting circles along my back.

  “Easy, Jill. There’s no need to make yourself sick over this.” He filled a cup with water and held it out to me, along with a towel. “Here, drink this. Take a few deep breaths. Everything will be just fine.”

  “We’ve lost the house, haven’t we?” I asked, breathless after gulping the water.

  With his lips pressed together, Ty gave me a sad look that answered my question. I started to cry. He pulled me up and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, rocking me gently as he stroked my hair.

  “Maybe not, Jill. We’ll need to make some calls in the morning and see what’s going on. I’m sure it’s just a simple mistake. That’s all. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”

  We stood in the middle of our tiny hall bathroom, his arms braced around my shoulders as he comforted me with soothing words, but I couldn’t shake the feeling he was wrong.

  Chapter Seven

  Jillian

  I made a few phone calls in the morning and my worst fears were confirmed. Someone had indeed run up a large balance on my card. I called the bank and demanded an explanation as to why they had never contacted me when the unusual charges were made. They informed me that they had called, citing an incorrect cell number, one digit off. They had even sent a certified letter last week which I found unopened in a box on my desk in the den. They provided as much information as they had on the purchases in question, none of which were mine.

  It was a new card with a high spending limit for my business. I hadn’t lost it, and the only place I had ever used it was at the spa, so someone up there must have duplicated it or stolen the numbers. The bank assured me the charges would be reversed within sixty days, but the damage had already been done. Taking both our small business loans into consideration, our mortgage lender would not relent and loan us the money until my card’s balance was cleared. And since the house was under a short sale agreement, the homeowner’s lender refused to wait while other qualified buyers were still interested. So they backed out of the deal, and we lost the house.

  I filed a fraud report with the bank and major credit agencies then called the Napa police to report the theft. They asked me to come in and swear out a formal complaint. The investigator assigned to my case was a bookish young man named Mike Tucker, who, with his boyish face and horn-rimmed glasses, looked more like a computer programming student than a cop. He sat down with me and explained how cases like mine usually worked.

  “See this, Mrs. Karras?” he said as he held up a narrow, palm-sized plastic box with a deep groove down the center. “It’s a skimmer, easily attainable over the Internet. Thieves simply swipe a victim’s card through it to store the stolen account numbers. Then they use the security code on the back of the card and any additional information they can glean from the victim as a means of creating a new card, as well as a new identity, either for themselves or, most often, to sell to a third party. We see it all the time, but the crimes are hard to trace and difficult to prosecute. So at this point, there’s really nothing you can do except close the account and dispute the charges.”

  “I’ve already done that. Now I want to find out who’s behind this, who did this to me.”

  “Well, unfortunately, that’s very unlikely, but, if by chance we get a hit somewhere, we’ll be sure to let you know.”

  I looked at him in confusion. “A hit?”

  “Yes, if someone tries to use your card where there is video surveillance, we can get a photo and try to match it up to known offenders. If it hits on one, we’ll call and see if you can identify him. Or her, since you think you know who it is. Your ID isn’t required, but it would help your case considerably if we could tie the perpetrator to you in some physical way. Until then, there’s not much else we can do. I’m real sorry.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his card, handing it to me with a pleasant smile. “You can call me with any questions or if you just need an update, okay? Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  With a nod, he turned and walked away. I was left standing there with my mouth open. I ran after him and reached for his arm.

  “Hey, wait just a second, will you? I told you, I know where my card number was stolen from, where this woman works. I might not know her name, but I can certainly identify her. Or you could send someone up to the spa with my description, maybe ask around, and get her that way.”

  He pressed his lips together with his head tilted to one side. “Mrs. Karras, we don’t know for sure that your card was appropriated at that spa. Or, if it was, if the person you’re speaking of is the one who made the charges. But we’ll look into it. I promise you that. We just need some time, and your patience.”

  Patience? I had no time for th
at, nor an inclination. I was keenly aware of the slow pace with which most police investigations progressed, even with the most high-profile of cases, and mine was of little consequence, at least to them. Officer Tucker’s promise carried little weight.

  “So, what? I’m just supposed to wait for someone to investigate this? Like whenever you or someone else might decide to get around to it, right? That how it works around here?”

  He huffed in response. “As I’ve said, we need a little time. Please understand, Mrs. Karras, the resources for this type of crime are thin right now, so you’ll need to be a bit more patient and let us do our job, okay? I promise to call if anything at all turns up. Now I really need to get back to work.”

  So that was it. Our dream of buying a home was ruined, and we were helpless to fix it. We would not be able to buy any home in time for the baby. And once the baby came, I would likely be too busy to house hunt, let alone pack up and move. I needed this all to be taken care of before I was too far along, before the baby was born. But apparently, that was not going to happen. Frustrated and angry, I unloaded on Tyler the moment I got home.

  “God, I could kill somebody,” I railed as I paced around our tiny kitchen. “And I’ll start with that woman. I should go back up to that spa myself.”

  “No you don’t, Jill. The cops asked you to stay out of it. Just let them do their job.”

  I pounded on the kitchen table with both fists. “But they won’t do their job, Tyler, that’s the point! Don’t you see?”

  “Come on, Jillian, take it easy. Have you been taking your pills?”

  “Oh for God’s sake, Tyler. Yes! How many times do I have to say it already?” I couldn’t believe he was bringing that up now.

  “Well then, you need to mellow out. It does no good to lose your temper. You need to stay calm, for the baby, at least.”

  “God! You just don’t get it, do you? I’m telling you, that’s precisely why I’m doing this. For the baby. We need a bigger house for the baby, a safer one. And we need to have all this taken care of before he’s born, before I’m too busy to even take a shower, let alone find a house and move. What are we supposed to do now?”

  “Listen to me, Jill. It’ll all get sorted out, in due time. You aren’t responsible for those charges, so just relax.”

  “I can’t relax. And it’s not about the money. Someone out there is screwing with my life—with our life— and apparently there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.” I stomped my foot and covered my face with my hands.

  Tyler wrapped his arms around me as I cried for the hundredth time.

  Chapter Eight

  Jillian

  The next morning, I got to work trying to find out who might have compromised my identity. I was sure the problem could be traced back to the spa up in Napa, but proving so was more difficult than it should have been. I attempted to get help from the resort, but they had no answers except to ask who assisted me with my purchases. I told them I had been helped by only one employee—a woman—but I didn’t know her name. Even though I described her to the manager, he was reluctant to name anyone specific, but I think he knew exactly who I was talking about and was only out to protect his employer’s interests, and possibly his own job.

  I resisted going back up to the spa and confronting that woman. God knows I wanted to, but Tyler had made me promise otherwise. It was one pledge I was determined not to break. I had already broken my vow to keep taking the Wellbutrin. I just couldn’t tolerate the nausea and sleepless nights one minute longer, so I stopped cold turkey. So far, I was feeling all right, but there were times I had to work at keeping my cool, especially when it concerned this case. It was easy enough to blame the pregnancy.

  For several weeks, it seemed as if nothing was being done. But then I received news of a break when Mike Tucker, who’d been working closely with my bank, informed me that they had videotape of someone attempting to make a purchase using my account. He asked me to come in and see if I could identify the suspect in a photo lineup. I drove up right away and sorted through a stack of still shots taken from surveillance videos. They were pasted neatly along white cardstock, three to a page, five pages in all. There was no mistaking the woman from the spa, the one who had assisted me with my purchases. My heart raced the moment I recognized her.

  “That’s her...number fourteen,” I said as I tossed the sheet at Tucker.

  I tapped my finger on the center image. He picked it up and removed my selection, nodding once as he held it up to the reflective glass along one wall in the small room.

  “Positive ID,” he said aloud to someone I couldn’t see.

  A voice thick with years of nicotine abuse broke over a speaker mounted high up in the corner of the room. “Thank you, Mrs. Karras. That’ll be all for now. We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

  Tucker stood and collected the pages of photographs scattered across the table.

  “Wait a second,” I said to the mirror. “Don’t just dismiss me like that. I want to know who that woman is. Do you even know? Am I allowed to know?”

  Tucker looked over at the reflective glass.

  “Yeah, sure. Go ahead, Tuck,” the gravelly voice said.

  Tucker nodded and turned back to me. “Okay then. Her name is Erin Anderson. She’s been busted three times for check fraud but has never been convicted, at least not yet. She’s still employed at that resort you visited last September.”

  I clapped my hands and rubbed them together, freshly energized with hope. “That’s great! Now what? Do you arrest her? Will she go to jail? Stand trial? What?”

  “No, not yet. We’ll continue to gather evidence for the District Attorney’s office. He’ll determine whether Ms. Anderson should be brought into custody or not, but you shouldn’t get your hopes up, Mrs. Karras. As I told you before, these cases are difficult to prosecute and are not high on his list of priorities. We’ll send somebody up there to question her, but it could be a while, so...” He finished with a shrug, scooping up the stack of pictures and brushing by on his way out.

  But I reached for his arm to stop him. “You’ve got to be kidding me! That woman has made it impossible for me to buy a home before my child is born, and now you’re telling me I have to sit and wait for the DA? My case has nothing to motivate him. That is so unfair, Officer Tucker. Who the hell is looking out for me? This isn’t just about a few credit card charges. That woman has affected my entire life. She needs to be held accountable.”

  “I agree, but it’s out of our hands, Mrs. Karras. I’m sorry, really, I am. The minute we hear from the DA’s office, we’ll let you know, but you need to be patient. The process is complicated, and the DA won’t prosecute if he doesn’t think he can secure a conviction. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some phone calls to make.” He tipped his head then walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind him. He stopped in the hall and turned back to me. “I can walk you back out, Mrs. Karras.”

  I grabbed my bag and left the room, stomping rather childishly down the hall. Fine. If the police wouldn’t help, I would take care of it myself. I didn’t know how, but I wasn’t going to let this case fall through the sizeable cracks of a broken legal system.

  ~

  For the rest of the week, I wracked my brain trying to figure out a way to get the District Attorney’s office to prosecute, or somehow coerce that woman to confess. I was frustrated that there didn’t seem to be anything I could do. I tried to stay calm for my own health and the sake of the baby, but it continued to eat away at me for days on end. There was no way I could just let it go. Tyler acted sympathetic, but he was also patient enough to wait for the prosecutor’s office to follow through. He was a stickler for rules, something I found particularly irritating at times. After two weeks with no progress, I decided to push the issue.

  “So I’ve made a decision, Tyler,” I announced one evening as we cleaned up after dinner. “I’m going to meet with the DA. If I put a face on the victim, give him a little
sob story or whatever, maybe he’d care a little more. Or perhaps I should talk to one of those TV news investigators. You know, the ones who embarrass deadbeats on the air. I’ll tell him all about the DA not doing his job.” I turned from the sink and faced him, my eyes narrowing involuntarily. “I bet a little public humiliation would get him off his ass. Don’t you think?”

  He sighed. “You already know what I think, Jill. You need to let this go. It’s not good for you or the baby to obsess about it all the time.” He stood in front of me with his hands around my arms, stooping to catch my attention. “Look at you. You’re a bloody wreck.”

  I wrenched free from his grasp, feeling like a scolded child. “I can’t just let it go, Ty. I’m so freaking pissed. And you should be, too, for God’s sake! That woman belongs in jail.”

  “Relax, love. She will be...eventually. It won’t change us having to take the time to clear things up on your end though. You need to be patient.”

  “Ugh! I’m so tired of hearing that,” I said as I paced the floor. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime, huh? There’s not enough room for us here. We’re already bursting at the seams, and it’s just not safe with all this clutter. We need a bigger place, Tyler, and I won’t have the time or energy to deal with moving after the baby comes. Don’t you understand that?”

  “I understand you’re a bit overwrought right now, love. All those pregnancy hormones are wreaking havoc on your emotions.”

  My chin dropped. “So because I’m taking those goddamn pills, this is just me being hormonal, is that it? Like I don’t have a legitimate reason to be upset about all this, huh? Let me tell you something, if someone was messing with your perfect world, you’d be pissed, too,” I said, poking him in the chest, but then I pulled back. “Oh wait, I’m sorry, I forgot. Mr. Law-Abiding-Citizen here is content to just sit around and wait for that chucklehead DA to get off his ass and do his job. You’d never think to stray outside the rules to see to my interests, would you? Hell, no! And God forbid I should wander from the straight and narrow either, right? Tell me, Ty, do you ever get tired of being so self-righteous? God knows I do.” I pointed my finger toward the door. “That bitch is ruining my life, my reputation. But hey, it’s no big deal, huh?” I waved my hands at him. “Whatever.”