Chapter 3: Thirty Thousand Dollars
I stared at the photograph until the screen dimmed.
The Mercedes sat beneath a security light, its white paint dulled by dust. The front bumper was scraped, and the windshield bore a jagged crack near the passenger side.
Jasmine leaned over my shoulder.
“Oh my God.””
I locked the phone.
“Don't look at it anymore.””
“Dad, somebody damaged my car.””
“I know.””
“Who sent that?””
“I don't know yet.””
She pulled out a chair and sat down heavily.
“Ask about the loan,” she whispered.
“What loan?””
That was the question I couldn't answer.
I called the unfamiliar number.
It went straight to voicemail.
I tried again.
Nothing.
Then I sent a message asking for the sender's name and the location of the vehicle.
The reply arrived almost immediately.
*WAREHOUSE 14, RIVER ROAD. DON'T COME ALONE.*
I showed it to Jasmine.
“We're not going there tonight,” I said.
“But Dad—”
“We'll report the location to the police. We'll let them determine how to recover the car safely.””
She looked disappointed, but she nodded.
I called the officer who had taken my initial report and forwarded the photograph and message. He told me an investigator would contact me the following morning.
Then I opened my banking app.
For the past decade, I had kept my finances organized. I owned a small construction consulting company, maintained separate personal and business accounts, and reviewed my statements every month.
I had taught Jasmine to do the same with her modest paycheck.
I believed financial discipline was a form of protection.
Now I wondered whether my own records contained something I had overlooked.
I checked our joint household account.
The balance looked normal.
I checked the mortgage account.
No unusual withdrawals.
I checked the credit cards.
Nothing immediately suspicious.
Then I opened the account I had established seven years earlier, shortly after marrying Felicia.
It was a household reserve account. I deposited money into it every month to cover emergencies, home repairs, and unexpected expenses.
Felicia had access to it.
I scrolled through the transaction history.
A transfer of $4,800.
Another transfer of $6,200.
Then $3,500.
All three had been made over the previous six weeks to an account I didn't recognize.
The descriptions were vague: consulting fees, personal reimbursement, miscellaneous expenses.
I opened the details.
The receiving account belonged to a company called Coleman Solutions LLC.
Derrick's surname.
My stomach tightened.
I checked the earlier months.
There were more transfers.
$2,000.
$7,500.
$4,000.
$1,800.
The total approached thirty thousand dollars.
I sat back in my chair.
The forged agreement claimed Jasmine owed Derrick thirty thousand dollars.
But the money might already have come from my household.
I printed the transaction history and laid the pages across the dining table.
Jasmine returned from upstairs wearing a sweatshirt, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail.
“What's all this?””
“Transfers from our household account.””
She read the company name.
“Coleman Solutions?””
“Apparently, your uncle has a business.””
She frowned.
“I thought he shut it down years ago.””
“So did I.””
She sat beside me.
“Dad, how much?””
“Just under thirty thousand dollars.””
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“That's almost exactly what the document says I owe him.””
I nodded.
We sat in silence.
Then she said something that made me look up.
“Dad, Felicia asked me for my student portal password two months ago.””
“Why?””
“She said she wanted to help me organize my financial aid documents. I gave it to her because she was standing right there, and I didn't think anything of it.””
“Did she ask for anything else?””
“Copies of my driver's license. My Social Security card. My bank details.””
I felt my pulse quicken.
“Why would she need those?””
“She said the university needed them for the scholarship paperwork.””
“Did you check with the university?””
Jasmine shook her head.
“I trusted her.””
The words came out so quietly that I almost didn't hear them.
I pulled her close.
“Sweetheart, trusting someone isn't a crime.””
“But I gave her everything.””
“You gave documents to someone who claimed she was helping you. The responsibility belongs to whoever misused them.””
She rested her forehead against my shoulder.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then I heard footsteps on the stairs.
Felicia appeared in the doorway, carrying a suitcase.
She stopped when she saw the papers on the table.
“What is all this?””
I pointed to the chair opposite me.
“Sit down.””
She looked at Jasmine.
“Why is she here?””
Jasmine straightened.
“I live here.””
Felicia's cheeks reddened.
“You know what I mean.””
“No,” I said.
“I don't think I do. Sit down.””
She remained standing.
“I'm leaving. You said you wanted me gone.””
“I did. But before you leave, we're going to discuss the money transferred to Derrick's company.””
Her grip tightened around the suitcase handle.
“What money?””
I slid the statements toward her.
“These transfers. Nearly thirty thousand dollars.””
She glanced down.
Then she looked away.
“Derrick was having a difficult time.””
“So you gave him our money?””
“I was going to replace it.””
“With what?””
“My savings.””
“You have less than four thousand dollars in your personal account.””
Her head snapped up.
“You checked my account?””
“No. I checked the joint account that you used to transfer our money.””
She looked at Jasmine.
“Why are you dragging her into this?””
“Because somebody created a document claiming she owes Derrick the same amount you've been sending him.””
Felicia went pale.
Jasmine leaned forward.
“Did you give him my information?””
Felicia opened her mouth.
Then she closed it.
“Answer her,” I said.
“It's complicated.””
“No, it isn't.””
“You don't understand what Derrick was going through.””
“Then explain it.””
Felicia set down the suitcase.
“He was being threatened.””
“By whom?””
“People he owed money to.””
“From gambling?””
She flinched.
I continued.
“You knew about his debts. You knew he had already borrowed money from Jasmine. You knew I had forbidden him from entering this house. And you decided the solution was to give him nearly thirty thousand dollars?””
“He promised to pay it back!””
“With what?””
“He said he had a plan.””
“Selling Jasmine's car?””
Felicia began to cry.
The sight should have softened me.
It didn't.
“Marcus, I made a mistake.””
“You made several. Let's start with the first one. Did you give Derrick Jasmine's personal information?””
She wiped her cheeks.
“I gave him copies of the documents because he said he needed proof of identity to arrange a loan.””
Jasmine stood so abruptly that her chair scraped the floor.
“You gave my Social Security number to Uncle Derrick?””
“I didn't know he would use it like this!””
“You gave him my documents without asking me!””
“I was trying to help him!””
Jasmine's voice broke.
“You helped him steal from me!””
Felicia looked at me.
“Please, Marcus. Tell her to calm down.””
I stared at her.
“You are asking me to calm down the daughter whose identity you handed to a man who sold her car?””
She pressed both hands against her face.
“I didn't know he was going to forge anything.””
“Did you know about the vehicle transfer agreement?””
Silence.
“Felicia.””
She lowered her hands.
“Yes.””
Jasmine took a step backward.
I felt as if somebody had struck me.
“You knew?””
Felicia began speaking rapidly.
“Derrick said it was temporary. He said he had a buyer lined up, and once the money came in, he would repay everything. The car was going to be replaced before Jasmine even noticed.””
Jasmine stared at her in disbelief.
“You thought I wouldn't notice my own car disappearing?””
“He said he would tell you!””
“When? After he sold it? After he spent the money?””
Felicia started crying harder.
“I was desperate. Those people were threatening him. He said they were going to hurt him.””
I leaned forward.
“And what about the money you transferred? What was that for?””
“He needed it to keep them away.””
“Who?””
“I don't know their names.””
“Did you ever meet them?””
She shook her head.
“Then how do you know they were real?””
Her silence was answer enough.
I picked up my phone and called Derrick.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“What now?””
“Your sister is here. She has told me about the money.””
A pause.
“She's upset. You know how she gets.””
“I'm asking you one question. Where did the thirty thousand dollars go?””
“Which thirty thousand?””
“The money transferred to Coleman Solutions.””
He laughed.
“That's business.””
“What business?””
“Consulting.””
“Who was the client?””
“Marcus, I'm not doing this with you.””
“Then do it with the police.””
His tone changed.
“Wait.””
I looked at Felicia.
“Tell him what you told me.””
She shook her head frantically.
I put the phone on speaker.
“Derrick,” I said, “your sister has admitted she gave you Jasmine's personal documents and knew about the vehicle transfer agreement.””
A long silence followed.
Then Derrick said, “Felicia, what the hell did you tell him?””
She began to cry again.
I felt a chill spread across my shoulders.
He hadn't asked whether the accusation was true.
He was angry because she had talked.
“Where is the money?”” I demanded.
Derrick exhaled sharply.
“Some of it went to the people I owed. Some went to expenses. The rest is tied up.””
“What expenses?””
“Things you wouldn't understand.””
“Try me.””
He laughed without humor.
“You always think you can buy your way out of everything.””
“You used my wife's access to our account to take money from our household. You used my daughter's identity to create a fake loan. You took her car and sold it. And now you want to lecture me about money?””
“Lower your voice.””
“No.””
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Derrick said something that changed the entire conversation.
“You want to know why the amount matches? Ask Felicia where the original thirty thousand went.””
I turned toward my wife.
“What is he talking about?””
Felicia's face drained of color.
“Derrick, don't,” she whispered.
But I had heard her.
And I had heard the fear in her voice.
“Felicia,” I said slowly, “what original thirty thousand?””
She reached for the phone.
I moved it away.
Derrick spoke again.
“Ask her about the account she opened before your wedding.””
Felicia lunged toward the phone.
“Hang up!””
I ended the call myself.
Then I turned to my wife.
“What account?””
She shook her head.
“It's not what he makes it sound like.””
“Then tell me what it sounds like.””
Her hands trembled.
“Before we got married, I had some money saved.””
“How much?””
She swallowed.
“Thirty thousand dollars.””
“And where is it now?””
She looked toward Jasmine.
For the first time since I had known her, she appeared genuinely terrified of her own words.
“I gave it to Danielle.””
The room seemed to stop breathing.
I stared at her.
“My first wife?””
Felicia nodded.
“Six months before she died.””
Jasmine looked confused.
“Why would Mom have taken your money?””
Felicia's mouth opened.
May you like
Then she whispered the sentence that shattered everything I thought I knew about my wife's past.
“Because your mother was paying someone to keep a secret about you.””
