Chapter 7: The Company That Used My Identity
Martin asked everyone to remain seated.
Nobody did.
Mom walked toward the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Grandma stood beside the dining table, holding the trust documents with both hands.
I stared at the company registration.
Malik Carter Holdings, LLC.
It sounded important.
It also sounded like something I would never have been allowed to create.
“I'm fifteen,” I said.
“How can I own a company?””
Martin adjusted his glasses.
“A minor can be named in certain business structures through a legal representative. But the formation documents would need to be examined.””
“Who formed it?””
He checked the registration.
“An organizer named Curtis Bell.””
Grandma shook her head.
“Of course.””
Mom looked up.
“He told me it was a temporary holding company.””
Martin turned toward her.
“Did you authorize its formation?””
“Yes.””
“Using Malik's personal information?””
She nodded.
“Did you disclose that he was a minor?””
“I don't remember.””
Martin placed the document on the table.
“Your son's identity was used to establish a company that received funds from an account belonging to him. That company then transferred money elsewhere.””
Mom covered her face.
“I thought Curtis was protecting it.””
“Where did the money go?”” Grandma asked.
Martin examined the transaction history.
“Several transfers were made. One to a business account. Two to private accounts. And one large transfer to an entity registered outside Georgia.””
Uncle Raymond's absence suddenly felt enormous.
I remembered his reaction when he saw his name.
His insistence that he knew nothing.
His immediate decision to leave.
“Grandma,” I said, “what if Uncle Raymond was telling the truth?””
She looked at me.
“What do you mean?””
“What if the account was his, but he didn't know where the money came from?””
Martin nodded slightly.
“That's possible. We need records before making assumptions.””
Mom shook her head.
“Raymond knew.””
“How do you know?”” Grandma asked.
“Because he helped Curtis set everything up.””
Martin looked at her.
“Do you have evidence?””
Mom took out her phone.
“I have messages.””
She opened her conversation with Raymond.
There were dozens of messages.
Some discussed the property.
Others discussed Curtis.
One message caught Martin's attention.
The boy's account should clear by Friday. Once it does, we can close the business account and move everything before Denise finds out.
Another message followed.
Don't put my name anywhere near the paperwork.
Martin read it twice.
Grandma's face tightened.
“That's Raymond?””
Mom nodded.
Martin photographed the messages.
“Do not delete anything.””
Mom handed him the phone.
He examined the dates.
Then he looked at her.
“These messages are from six weeks ago.””
Mom nodded.
“Raymond was helping Curtis.””
“Did he receive any of the funds?””
“I don't know.””
“Did you?””
Mom hesitated.
Martin waited.
Finally, she said, “I received fifteen thousand dollars.””
Grandma stared at her.
“From Malik's money?””
Mom nodded.
“What did you do with it?””
“I paid the mortgage.””
Grandma's face hardened.
“You used his inheritance to pay the mortgage on his own house?””
“I was trying to keep us from losing it!””
Martin looked at the records.
“The mortgage payment was approximately four thousand dollars. What happened to the remaining eleven thousand?””
Mom wiped her face.
“Credit cards. Utilities. Some overdue bills.””
I looked at her.
“Did you ever think about telling me?””
She looked at me.
“Malik, you were a child.””
“You keep saying that.””
“Because you are!””
“Then why did you make me responsible for the house?””
She went quiet.
I stood and walked toward the hallway.
Grandma followed.
“Baby?””
I stopped beside the staircase.
“Can I go upstairs?””
She nodded.
“Of course.””
I went into my bedroom and closed the door.
My room was small, but I loved it.
A basketball poster hung above my desk. My school books were stacked beside the laptop Grandma had given me. A photograph of me and Grandpa sat on the nightstand.
He had been holding my hand in the picture.
I was seven.
He had smiled at the camera, but he was looking at me.
I picked up the photograph.
“Why didn't you tell me?”” I whispered.
The door opened slightly.
Grandma stepped inside.
She didn't ask me to stop crying.
She simply sat on the edge of the bed.
“Your grandfather wanted you to have a normal childhood.””
I wiped my face.
“Was he afraid of Mom?””
Grandma looked at the photograph.
“He was worried about her choices.””
“Why didn't you stop her?””
“I tried.””
She paused.
“Your grandfather and I helped Renee more times than I can count. Every time she promised things would be different. We wanted to believe her.””
I looked at the floor.
“Do you still believe her?””
Grandma took a long breath.
“I believe she loves you. But love doesn't erase what someone does.””
That was the first honest answer I'd heard all afternoon.
A knock came from downstairs.
Martin called Grandma's name.
She stood.
“Stay here for a moment, sweetheart.””
She left the room.
I heard voices.
Then something crashed.
I rushed toward the doorway.
At the bottom of the staircase, Uncle Raymond was standing beside the dining table.
He had returned.
His face was red.
“You have no right to accuse me!””
Martin stood between him and the documents.
“Then cooperate with the investigation.””
Raymond pointed at Mom.
“She gave me the money!””
Mom shook her head.
“You told me Curtis could protect it!””
“And you signed the documents!””
Grandma stepped forward.
“Both of you stop.””
Raymond looked at her.
“Mother, you're letting this get out of control.””
She raised the bank statement.
“My grandson's money is missing.””
Raymond lowered his voice.
“It's not missing.””
Everyone froze.
Grandma stared at him.
“What?””
He swallowed.
“I know where it is.””
Martin stepped forward.
“Where?””
Raymond looked toward the staircase.
Then at me.
“Most of it is still there.””
“Where?”” Grandma demanded.
Raymond hesitated.
Then he gave an answer that made Martin immediately reach for his phone.
“There's another account. One Curtis couldn't access without my authorization.””
“Whose account?”” I asked.
Raymond looked at me.
“Yours.””
Martin shook his head.
“That's not possible. We have the closing records.””
Raymond reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“That's because the bank closed the first account. The money was transferred before that.””
He placed the paper on the table.
It showed a balance.
$362,418.77.
Grandma grabbed the edge of the chair.
“Where is this account?””
Raymond looked at Martin.
“First Southern Trust. Different branch. Different account number.””
Martin examined it.
Then his expression changed.
“Mr. Carter, when was this statement issued?””
“Yesterday.””
Martin stared at him.
“Then why did you wait until now to tell us?””
Raymond looked toward Mom.
“Because I needed to know whether Curtis had already found it.””
My mother's face went white.
May you like
And then Raymond added the words that changed everything.
“Because Curtis isn't the only person trying to get Malik's money.””
