Kelsey grabbed the edge of my door.
“Lock it.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Lock the door, Karen.”
The white sedan had stopped across the street.
A woman stepped out.
She looked to be in her forties, wearing a dark coat despite the mild afternoon. She carried a thick brown envelope against her chest.
Kelsey backed away from my porch.
“No.”
“Who is she?”
Kelsey whispered, “Rachel Ellis.”
“Nathan's wife?”
She nodded.
Rachel crossed the street without hurrying.
I opened the door another inch.
Kelsey caught my wrist.
“Don't.”
I looked at her hand.
She released me.
Rachel climbed the steps.
“Karen Whitlow?”
“Yes.”
She held out the envelope.
“I've been trying to find you.”
Kelsey stepped forward.
“Rachel, you promised.”
Rachel ignored her.
“What did she promise?”
“That she wouldn't involve you.”
I looked at Rachel.
“You already have.”
Rachel's expression hardened.
“Your son is in serious trouble.”
My heart dropped.
“What kind of trouble?”
She glanced at Kelsey.
“The kind your daughter-in-law has been trying to hide.”
Kelsey began crying.
I hated that.
Not because I didn't care.
Because tears had become a way of turning every question into an act of cruelty.
“Come inside,” I said.
Rachel entered.
Kelsey followed reluctantly.
I locked the door behind them.
Rachel placed the envelope on my dining table.
“You should sit.”
“I've been sitting all morning.”
She opened the envelope.
The first document was a credit application.
My name.
My address.
My date of birth.
The signature beneath it looked like mine.
But it wasn't.
I knew every line of my handwriting.
“That isn't my signature.”
“No.”
The next document was an insurance authorization.
Again, my name.
Again, the false signature.
Then a vehicle authorization.
Then a bank form.
My hands began to shake.
“How long?”
Rachel looked at Kelsey.
“About eighteen months.”
I looked at my daughter-in-law.
“You've had my information for eighteen months?”
Kelsey covered her mouth.
“I didn't start it.”
“Then who did?”
She couldn't answer.
Rachel said, “Grady.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“My son?”
“Yes.”
Kelsey whispered, “It wasn't supposed to become this.”
“What wasn't?”
“The debt.”
I looked from one woman to the other.
“What debt?”
Rachel sat down.
“Grady has been gambling.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Kelsey closed her eyes.
“He started playing private games almost two years ago.”
“My son doesn't gamble.”
“He does.”
“How much?”
Rachel didn't answer.
“How much?”
Kelsey whispered, “Sometimes ten thousand dollars in one night.”
I stared at her.
The number seemed absurd.
My son had called me three months earlier because his electricity bill was higher than expected.
He had asked if I could help.
I had sent money.
I had believed him.
“How much does he owe?”
Rachel's eyes moved to the papers.
“More than he can repay.”
I sat down.
“Where does Nathan fit into this?”
Rachel took a breath.
“My husband knew people who ran those games.”
“Was he involved?”
“Yes.”
The answer was quiet.
Too quiet.
“He introduced Grady to them.”
I looked at the floor.
“What happened after Grady lost money?”
“He borrowed.”
“From Nathan?”
“Partly.”
“And then?”
“He borrowed from Kelsey.”
I looked up.
“Kelsey?”
She nodded.
“I borrowed money too.”
“From whom?”
“Different people.”
“How many?”
She didn't answer.
I turned to Rachel.
“Why are you giving me these documents?”
“Because Nathan found out what Kelsey had done.”
Kelsey shook her head.
“He didn't know everything.”
“He knew enough.”
Rachel opened another folder.
There were copies of transfers.
Dates.
Amounts.
Account numbers.
I recognized mine.
A transfer for $18,500.
I stared at it.
“That money never left my account.”
“It was attempted.”
“When?”
“Seven months ago.”
I remembered that week.
I had been visiting my sister in Florida.
I had not logged into my banking app for several days.
“Who submitted it?”
Rachel looked at me.
“Kelsey.”
Kelsey whispered, “I was trying to stop something worse.”
“You used my bank account.”
“I was desperate.”
“You used my name.”
“I know.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I know.”
I stood.
“Do you know what I don't understand?”
Kelsey looked up.
“How could you sit at my kitchen table and tell me you loved my son while using me as a source of money?”
Her face crumpled.
“I did love him.”
“Then why?”
She looked at Grady's old photograph on the wall.
“Because I thought I could fix everything before he found out how bad it was.”
I looked at Rachel.
“And what happened to Nathan?”
Rachel's expression changed.
“He disappeared.”
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
“Is he missing?”
“Yes.”
“Did the police find anything?”
“Nothing.”
“His car?”
“Gone.”
“His phone?”
“Off.”
“His medication?”
Rachel swallowed.
“He left it behind.”
That frightened me.
A person could forget a wallet.
A phone.
A jacket.
Not medication they depended on every day.
“What did Nathan know?”
Rachel looked at the envelope.
“Enough to put people in danger.”
“Which people?”
She hesitated.
“Grady.”
I closed my eyes.
“What did my son do?”
Kelsey whispered, “He borrowed twenty thousand from Nathan.”
Rachel corrected her.
“Twenty thousand directly.”
I opened my eyes.
“What does directly mean?”
“There were other debts.”
“How much?”
“Eighty-seven thousand altogether.”
I looked at Kelsey.
“Eighty-seven?”
She nodded.
“Grady thought he could recover it by selling the SUV.”
I almost laughed.
The SUV.
The same vehicle whose lease I had been paying.
“He couldn't sell it.”
“He thought he could buy it out first.”
“Using what?”
“My money.”
The answer came from Rachel.
Silence filled the room.
Suddenly, the lease amendment made sense.
Nathan's name had not been added because he wanted the SUV.
Someone had been constructing a trail.
A false one.
One that made it appear that Nathan had legal access to an asset connected to me.
I picked up the amendment.
“Who actually submitted this?”
Rachel shook her head.
“We don't know yet.”
Kelsey looked down.
“I didn't add Nathan.”
I looked at her.
“Did you authorize the change?”
“I gave Grady access to my email.”
That was not an answer.
I waited.
Finally she said, “Yes.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A message.
KAREN, DO NOT RETURN THE SUV.
I stared at it.
Rachel leaned closer.
“What does it say?”
I showed her.
She went pale.
A second message appeared.
NATHAN WAS TRYING TO WARN YOU.
Kelsey stepped back.
“Delete it.”
I turned.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then why are you afraid of a text?”
She couldn't answer.
Another message arrived.
HE KNOWS WHAT KELSEY DID.
Rachel whispered, “Nathan.”
I looked at her.
“You think that's him?”
“I don't know.”
“Then who?”
Before she could answer, my phone rang.
Grady.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
“Mom.”
His voice sounded exhausted.
“Are you at home?”
“Yes.”
“Is Kelsey there?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then he said, “Don't talk to Nathan.”
I looked at Rachel.
“Why?”
“You don't know what he's involved in.”
“Neither do you.”
“I know enough.”
“You told me you didn't know him.”
“I didn't know him well.”
“That's not what you said.”
He went quiet.
I asked, “Did you add him to my lease?”
“No.”
“Did you know about it?”
Another silence.
“Grady.”
“I knew someone was using the account.”
My stomach turned.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You knew someone was using my identity.”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“You were trying to fix it?”
“I was going to pay everything back.”
“With what?”
He didn't answer.
I closed my eyes.
“Tell me the truth.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“Not over the phone.”
“Then come home.”
He hesitated.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because someone is watching me.”
The line went silent.
“Grady?”
He hung up.
I lowered the phone.
Rachel looked at me.
“He knows.”
“Kelsey?”
She nodded.
“He knows more than he's told you.”
I looked at the documents spread across my table.
Then I noticed a company name on one of the bank transfers.
Whitlow Family Solutions.
I had never heard of it.
“Kelsey.”
She froze.
“What is Whitlow Family Solutions?”
She didn't answer.
Rachel looked at her.
“You didn't tell her?”
Kelsey shook her head.
I picked up the document.
“When did you start this company?”
“Last year.”
“Why?”
“Consulting.”
“For what?”
“Property services.”
I stared at her.
“My property?”
“No.”
“Then why is my information attached to it?”
She began crying again.
Rachel spoke.
“Because she used your records to make it look legitimate.”
I looked at Kelsey.
“Where did you get my property documents?”
“You gave them to Grady.”
“For the townhouse application.”
“I needed copies.”
“For what?”
She whispered, “The company.”
My chest tightened.
The documents I had given my son to help him secure a home had become the raw material for something I didn't understand.
I looked toward the front window.
The white sedan was still there.
Rachel followed my gaze.
“Don't go outside.”
“Why?”
“Because Nathan's wife isn't the only person who has been watching this house.”
I turned toward her.
“What does that mean?”
She lowered her voice.
“There was another car yesterday.”
“What car?”
“Black SUV.”
“Where?”
“Across the street.”
I felt a chill move through me.
“Did you see the driver?”
“No.”
Kelsey suddenly stood.
“I need to leave.”
I blocked the doorway.
“No.”
“Karen—”
“You're going to tell me everything first.”
“I can't.”
“You can.”
She looked at Rachel.
Then at me.
Finally she whispered, “Nathan was going to expose us.”
“Us?”
“Me and Grady.”
“What did he have?”
“A file.”
“What kind of file?”
“Payments. Transfers. Names.”
“Whose names?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Rachel said quietly, “You do.”
Kelsey looked at her.
Rachel continued.
“You know exactly whose names were in it.”
Kelsey sat down again.
For several seconds she stared at the floor.
Then she whispered:
“People who don't want anyone asking questions.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 3: The Dealership Called Me Back With a Second Name on My Lease, and Suddenly My Son’s Fear Began to Make Sense
My Son Told Me to Stay Away From His House, So I Went to the Dealership and Discovered a Name I Had Never Authorized
Part 2 of 24
