Stolen Identity Read online

  “I can’t help but feel as if I’m dragging you away from your work.” She started into the apology he didn’t need or want from her.

  “I’ve yet to turn down a damsel in distress.” Especially the one woman who’d always been irresistible to him.

  Another look at the menu helped rein in his meandering thoughts. Pancakes, waffles, omelets…. “I meant it when I said that we are in this together.”

  “Okay…then I won’t feel bad.”

  “What do you want to eat?” he asked, gazing across the table at her.

  She scanned the menu. “Something light. I’m not sure how much my stomach can handle.”

  The waitress stopped at their table, interrupting any further discussion for the moment. The tall, thin brunette filled up Jason’s coffee then stood ready to take their order.

  Danielle handed the menus to the waitress. “I’ll have the fruit salad.”

  “That will get you through the next what…hour? You’ve got to eat something substantial.” He caught the stubborn rise of her chin and turned back to the waitress. “Give us two orders of waffles with hash browns, and an extra side of bacon and sausage with each.”

  “Jason…” Danielle stared at him as the waitress walked away. “Are you seriously ordering for me again? And what’s with the extra bacon and sausage?”

  He leaned forward and smiled at her. “If I remember correctly that used to be your Saturday morning staple back in college.” He held up his hands. “But even if your taste in breakfast has changed, what hasn’t changed is the fact that you need to eat.”

  Her expression softened slightly. “You’re impossible, you know, and besides that how do you know that I still like bacon?”

  “Because everyone loves bacon, and college wasn’t that long ago.”

  “Long enough that an extra side of bacon and sausage doesn’t simply disappear after an hour at the gym. Today—”

  “Trust me. You don’t have anything to worry about today, either.”

  She ducked her head, but he didn’t miss the red blush that spread across her cheeks.

  While her expression hinted at the fact that part of her world might have just caved in, he didn’t miss the fact that she still looked just as beautiful as the day they first met. But as much as he didn’t want to notice the dark color of her eyes, the soft curls of hair against her neck or her tanned skin against her purple shirt there was one thing he couldn’t afford to forget. Whatever past they’d once shared together had to stay in the past because ten years was a long time. And like it or not, he was no longer a part of her life.

  For the moment, though, they had more pressing things to consider. They were going to need to go through Garrett’s accounts, evaluate security risks to determine if the company had been compromised and find a way to get their hacker to stop preying on Danielle.

  *

  Danielle eyed the ridiculous amount of food the waitress had just set in front of them while fighting the queasiness that had settled in her stomach. She took a sip of her coffee, wishing she could wash down the fear along with her breakfast. She could pretend this was all simply going to disappear, but she’d seen the truth reflected in Jason’s eyes. This was more than a routine case of identity theft. She’d just been scammed out of over a quarter of a million dollars—and that wasn’t the only thing that frightened her. Someone knew enough about her habits, personality and private information to have been able to walk into her bank and convince the manager that they were her.

  Jason prayed over the food, then winked at her before digging into his plate of food. “I’m not planning to eat your breakfast, too, so you’d better get started.”

  She waved her fork in the air. “Were you always this bossy?”

  “Even more so, probably.”

  Danielle shook her head. He’d always known how to lighten a stressful situation, but for the moment she needed more than a good laugh. She needed answers. “I want to know how something like this could happen.”

  “Will you eat?”

  “I’ll eat—at least some of it—I promise.” She held up a bite of hash browns to make her point. Her stomach growled. Maybe she was hungry, after all.

  “I’m not a computer guru like Garrett was, but I know enough to see that our hacker is very good at what he does. Few people realize how simple identity theft really is. A few numbers, a date of birth, a pile of recycled credit card applications… It’s amazing what a pro can do with them.”

  The thought made her shudder. “So I make one mistake, or throw away something I shouldn’t have, and bingo, I’m suddenly the target of a scam?”

  “That kind of information isn’t hard to find. All this guy needs is a trash can, a stolen wallet or perhaps a bribed employee, and he can become whoever he wants, whenever he wants. Lines of credit, brand-new vehicles, rented apartments—you name it.”

  Danielle poured boysenberry syrup across her buttered waffle and frowned. What she’d read online had left her leery, but vehicles and apartments? “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish I were. And unfortunately, by the time most victims discover the loss, there’s nothing but a cold trail behind the perpetrator. On the positive side, thanks partly to Garrett’s phone call, you found out before the bank started expecting payments.”

  Danielle tried to digest the facts as he threw them at her, but it was getting increasingly difficult. And one twist in particular stood out, possibly superseding even the financial loss—murder. She shoved the thought away. “What about the phone call to my house? That wasn’t me who answered.”

  Jason picked up his pen and drew a few lines on his napkin. “Most houses have a little gray box located on the outside of their house called a Network Interface Device.”

  “A Network Interface Device?” She shot him a blank look. “I might be able to decipher your…doodling, but you’ve just proficiently jumped beyond my knowledge of technology.”

  He frowned, but his eyes still sparkled. “Insulting my artwork now, are you?”

  “Of course not. I remember how seriously you take your…art.”

  She used to have a collection of all the doodles he’d made into cards for her. Birthdays…Valentine’s Day…their one-year anniversary…. She dropped her gaze at the memories. Clearly, the past was a place they both needed to avoid at the moment.

  Jason cleared his throat, evidently feeling the same way. “Simply put, an NID is what connects your home telephone lines to the telephone company’s network.”

  That she could understand. Even if she didn’t like the sound of it.

  “With a bit of computer background,” Jason continued, “diverting a call to another phone is possible.”

  Danielle mulled over the implication. “Making that little gray box on the side of the house worth over a quarter of a million dollars.”

  He tapped his pen against the pad. “If Garrett hadn’t called you, you wouldn’t even know what had happened yet.”

  “So by the time I find out, the cash—and the perpetrator—is long gone.”

  “With your money.” Jason shoved his napkin aside as the waitress refilled their drinks. “Do you have an alarm system?”

  “At both my house and the store.”

  “Good.”

  Danielle wasn’t sure she liked where the conversation was going. “Good because whoever did this is still watching me?”

  “It’s possible, depending on how much he thinks he can get out of you. There’s also the chance that the guy’s sitting in some tropical cabana a thousand miles from here.”

  That should make her feel better, but it didn’t. Not when she knew her adversary was spending her hard-earned money.

  She stared at her plate, knowing she needed to keep her emotions out of the equation. But the very idea that someone could have managed to steal this kind of money without her knowing it was enough to scare anyone. And unfortunately, she knew from experience that the old cliché that life would never be the same again could ha
ppen in an instant.

  She finished half of her waffle and moved on to the hash browns, hungrier than she’d expected. He’d been right about her eating something. She wasn’t going to be able to handle things—or be there for Lauryn—if she didn’t take care of herself.

  She sprinkled pepper onto the potatoes. “I’ve done enough research in the past twenty-four hours to know that identity theft can ruin a person financially.”

  “It can,” he conceded, “but not always.”

  “Then tell me this? Who’s going to end up repaying $350,000 to the bank? I have a feeling my nemesis isn’t planning to pay up, and while my business might be going well, I don’t have the extra monthly income the bank is going to demand on that kind of loan.”

  “I’ll be upfront with you. There are thousands of victims like yourself who have been left to clean up the mess. It’s completely unfair and wrong, but in the end someone has to pay.”

  “So what can we do to avoid that happening? If we can find the person who did it, the bank will have to believe me.”

  “It’s not as easy as it seems.” Jason started doodling on the side of his napkin. “The people involved in scams like this one are professionals. They know how to get in and out before the victim has a clue as to what’s going on. It could be someone you know, but more than likely, it’s a complete stranger.”

  A shiver trailed down Danielle’s spine despite the warm room. She hated feeling vulnerable. Hated knowing someone had slipped into her sphere without her knowing it. “What about background checks on my employees?”

  “Definitely. How many do you have beside the one who quite this morning?”

  “Two others who work full-time, Kate and Sarah. Then I have several other part-time workers who come in during high season and holidays.”

  Jason added a spoonful of sugar to his coffee. The man obviously hadn’t kicked the caffeine addiction she remembered. Or his habit of constantly doodling. “I’ll also need a list of anyone you have regular dealings with.”

  “Of course.” She dropped her fork onto her plate. The last time she remembered feeling this defenseless was when they’d told her Quinton was gone. Which was part of the reason she felt so conflicted over Jason’s presence. No matter how real the stirred-up emotions he evoked in her, she was afraid to feel them again.

  “Have you noticed anyone hanging around your neighborhood who shouldn’t be there? Anyone following you or maybe spending a lot of time at your store?”

  Danielle squeezed her eyes shut and searched her memory for anything out of place. She tended to study people for details, which meant she often ignored the bigger picture.

  Danielle shook her head. “I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, though that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss it. My life is pretty hectic with Lauryn and the store.”

  “That’s okay.” His soothing voice spread through her like a balm. “We’re going to find out who did this.”

  “I hope so.”

  “We’ll find them. I might be a bit bossy—or determined as I prefer to call it—at times, but that habit can come in handy at times.”

  Danielle smiled. His determination was what she was going to need until this was over. “So what’s our next move?”

  “Well, we need to follow up on the police investigation and see if they’ve made any headway in the case. But I’d also like to look through your financial records. If there are any other discrepancies it might give us a place to start.”

  Danielle nodded. “I keep everything at my office at the store.”

  Jason snagged the bill from the table as the waitress set it down. “And if you’d like to go with me, I also need to visit Garrett’s parents. I’m hoping they’ll have a clue as to why their son was murdered.”

  SEVEN

  While Jason spoke with Garrett’s father in the garage, Danielle stepped into the middle of Garrett’s sports-themed bedroom at his parents’ house and took in the displays of silver trophies, ribbons and team banners. Seeing the home where he’d grown up helped to give insight into the man he’d once been, but for the moment her attention was drawn to the woman standing across from her. And the all-too-familiar look of loss in the older woman’s eyes.

  “Garrett was number twenty-four.” Mrs. Peterson stood in front of one of her son’s team photos hanging on the wall. “He was so tall and skinny back then, despite always eating like there was no tomorrow.”

  Danielle studied the team photo. Putting a name and history behind the body she’d pulled out of the ocean also made the situation all the more real.

  “When he was in school, sports were his passion. Long-distance running and basketball in particular.” Mrs. Peterson sat down on the blue-striped bedspread and ran her finger across his name engraved at the bottom of one of the trophies sitting on the nightstand. “He played basketball on the high school varsity team, then went on to play in college until he busted his knee. Shot any chances of going pro which he’d dreamed of his entire life.”

  “How did he handle that?”

  “He had a rough time for a while. Besides running, basketball had become his life, and he’d never wanted to do anything else.” She set the trophy back down on the nightstand beside her. “Eventually, he discovered he had a knack for computers and technology and went that direction. I think he enjoyed what he did. But now…I just keep asking myself what he could have gotten involved in that ended up costing him his life.”

  “I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Peterson.” Danielle struggled for the right words, knowing from her recent experience that there was no pat response. “I know all too well how difficult it can be to lose someone you love deeply. My husband was killed in an accident two years ago. It’s taken me a long time to get past that initial grief and move on.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. But you really do understand, don’t you?” Mrs. Peterson stared at the photo. “Garrett always teased me that nothing has changed in this room since high school graduation. I loved being a mother, loved all the carpooling, track meets and scout meetings. Now I don’t have a choice but to let him go.”

  Mrs. Peterson had just started down that road. Days of unquenchable grief that would eventually give way to a desire to embrace life again. But it was going to take time to get there.

  “I’d planned to convert this into a guest room and nursery one day for my grandchildren,” she continued. “My daughter has her own family, but Garrett never found anyone to settle down with.”

  Danielle caught the heartache in the older woman’s voice. “It’s not always easy finding that one and only, is it?”

  “He wanted a family, and I think the older he got the harder it became for him. He had high expectations and never seemed to meet women that fulfilled all of them.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Now we’re planning a funeral and it’s too late for any of that….”

  Danielle reached over to pat the older woman’s arm. “When was the last time you heard from him?”

  “Over two weeks ago.” Mrs. Peterson put the photo back and turned to Danielle. “He called to make sure we were still on to celebrate my birthday. He was a good son. Knowing how busy he was, I told him he didn’t have to make the trip up here, but he insisted he wanted to.”

  Danielle shook her head. How had this ideal son gotten involved in a scam that had cost him his life? “Had Garrett been different lately?”

  “He seemed… I guess distracted is the word I’d use for him over the past few months. He didn’t come over as much as he normally did, but I knew he was busy with work and didn’t think much about it.”

  “Did you know many of his friends?”

  “Jason knew more who he hung out with than I do. He dated and did community service work which gave him a chance to meet people outside his work. You wouldn’t know from just meeting him, but while he was a people person, Garrett was also intensely private. I’ve had people tell me that you could walk away from a conversation with him and realize how little you knew about
him. Yet he’d take away your entire life story.”

  “I wish I could have met him.”

  A buzzer sounded from downstairs.

  “That’s the oven.” Mrs. Peterson stood and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “I put a cinnamon tea cake in before you got here.”

  Danielle followed her down the stairs to the kitchen, past the wall lined with childhood photos of Garrett and his sister through various stages of their lives—the kind of photos most kids wished their parents would hide away in a box in the attic.

  The smell of cinnamon and sugar filled the kitchen as Mrs. Peterson pulled the cake from the oven. “My fridge is full of meals brought over from people at our church, but baking keeps me busy. And I need to stay busy.”

  “It smells wonderful.” Still needing to find out something—anything—that might help them discover who was behind his death, Danielle steered the conversation back to Garrett while Mrs. Peterson set the cake on a rack and turned off the oven. “You mentioned he dated. Was he seeing anyone in particular lately?”

  “It was a family joke, Garrett’s dating habits.” She leaned back against the tiled countertop. “I wanted grandchildren and told Garrett over and over that it would be nice to enjoy them before they put me into some old folks home. Of course, my daughter finally gave me a couple grandbabies, but commitment wasn’t Garrett’s strong suit…though I actually thought maybe he’d found someone. Someone serious, I mean.”

  “What happened?”

  “Garrett came for dinner a few weeks back. There was something different about him. I teased him that there was a spring in his step. Like he was in love.”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  His mother nodded. “I asked him point-blank before he left to go home that night, and he admitted he’d met someone. That he even thought she might be the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He seemed happy, yet at the same time very cautious, too.” She smiled wistfully. “I remember mentioning to Bruce that I had this gut feeling Garrett had finally found the one. I just knew it. He’d gone out with dozens of girls, but this time was different. There was this glow in his eyes. A sense of contentment about him.”