Chapter 7 - The Widow Who Trusted My Name"THEY USED YOUR FACE, SIMONE. THEY USED YOUR NAME. AND I GAVE THEM MY HUSBAND'S LIFE SAVINGS."
Helen McLeod sat opposite me in Helena's conference room, clutching a worn leather folder.
She was seventy-two, a retired school librarian with silver hair and kind brown eyes.
Her husband, Arthur, had died three years earlier.
For forty-six years, they'd saved carefully.
They owned a modest house, avoided unnecessary debt, and believed retirement would be comfortable.
Then Arthur became ill.
Medical expenses and home modifications consumed part of their savings.
After his death, Helen was left with enough money to live simply.
Not extravagantly.
Simply.
And then Patricia Mercer introduced her to Northstar.
"She told me it was an opportunity ordinary people usually never hear about," Helen explained.
I looked at the brochure she'd placed on the table.
My professional photograph appeared beside the company's logo.
Beneath it was a fabricated endorsement.
The paragraph claimed I'd independently reviewed the investment strategy and considered its financial controls strong.
I felt physically sick.
The photograph had been taken from my company's website.
The endorsement had never been written by me.
But to someone unfamiliar with financial disclosures, it looked authentic.
"Where did you meet Patricia?" I asked gently.
"At our community fundraising committee. We've known each other for years."
"Did she receive money for introducing you?"
Helen looked surprised.
"I don't know."
Helena made a note.
"Mrs. McLeod, did anyone explain the risks before you invested?"
"Warren Pike did. He said there was always some risk, but the properties were supported by experienced professionals."
"Did you receive independent financial advice?"
Helen lowered her eyes.
"No."
I resisted the urge to lecture her.
People made decisions for complicated reasons.
Helen had wanted a little additional income.
She'd wanted to avoid becoming dependent on her children.
Most of all, she'd trusted a friend.
That trust had been turned into a tool.
"Do you have copies of everything you signed?" Helena asked.
Helen opened her folder.
"I brought all of it."
There were subscription documents, account statements, promotional materials, and several handwritten notes.
One note immediately caught my attention.
It was written on cream stationery.
Helen, this is the opportunity I mentioned. Simone Carter has reviewed the financial side, and Grant assures me the income will be dependable. I wouldn't recommend it if I didn't believe in it.
It was signed:
Patricia.
I read it twice.
Patricia hadn't merely enjoyed my money.
She had used my reputation to persuade another woman to risk her savings.
I looked at Helen.
"Did Patricia know how important this money was to you?"
Helen nodded.
"Oh, yes. She knew Arthur and I had worked for decades to save it."
Anger rose in my chest.
Not the explosive kind.
Something colder.
More deliberate.
I wanted Patricia to understand exactly what her behavior had cost.
Helena carefully explained that we were gathering evidence and that Helen should obtain independent advice about possible recovery options.
We couldn't promise her money would be returned.
We couldn't promise criminal charges or a particular outcome.
But we could make sure her account of what happened was documented.
Before leaving, Helen turned to me.
"May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Did you know your husband was doing this?"
I shook my head.
"No."
She studied me for a long moment.
Then she reached across the table and touched my hand.
"Then I'm sorry for what happened to you, too."
I hadn't expected that.
For months, I'd been surrounded by people who treated my boundaries as cruelty.
Here was a woman who might lose most of her savings, and she still found room to recognize someone else's pain.
I squeezed her hand.
"Thank you, Helen."
After she left, I sat quietly.
Helena closed her notebook.
"Simone, I know you're upset."
"She's seventy-two."
"I know."
"She saved that money with her husband."
"Yes."
"And Patricia used my name to convince her it was safe."
Helena leaned forward.
"That's why the evidence matters. We need to separate what Patricia believed from what she knew, and what Grant and Warren represented to investors."
I nodded.
"How many people invested?"
"We don't have a complete list."
"Can we find out?"
"Through lawful requests, investor cooperation, and the authorities. We shouldn't attempt to access information we're not entitled to."
I understood.
But I couldn't stop thinking about Helen.
Sixty-two thousand dollars.
A lifetime of careful decisions placed at risk because someone had borrowed the credibility of a woman they publicly ridiculed.
That afternoon, Nadia helped me review copies of the documents Helen had voluntarily provided.
The investment statements referred to projected returns from commercial rental properties.
But the descriptions were vague.
Several properties appeared to have been proposed rather than acquired.
Others had unfamiliar registration details.
One address belonged to an empty lot outside Ottawa.
Another was associated with a development that had been canceled.
Nadia examined a photograph.
"This is interesting."
"What?"
"The brochure claims Northstar owns this building."
She turned her computer toward me.
A commercial property listing appeared on the screen.
The actual owner was unrelated to Northstar.
The building had recently been advertised for sale.
I leaned closer.
"Do we know whether Northstar has an agreement to purchase it?"
"Not from public records. We need to be careful, but the brochure certainly doesn't establish ownership."
I sat back.
The investors had been shown buildings they might never own.
And the promised returns appeared to depend on business arrangements we couldn't verify.
I thought about Grant's confident smile.
How many times had he told me I didn't understand his business?
Maybe he had been right about one thing.
I hadn't understood how far he was willing to go.
At five that evening, Evelyn arrived at the office.
She looked pale.
"Simone, I spoke with Mom."
I stood.
"What did she say?"
"She admitted she introduced people to Northstar."
"Did she know the documents were false?"
"She says Grant told her everything was legitimate."
I studied Evelyn's face.
"Do you believe her?"
"I don't know."
That honesty mattered.
For once, Evelyn wasn't rushing to defend her family.
She was willing to admit uncertainty.
Then she reached into her purse.
"I found something in Mom's old paperwork."
She unfolded a bank statement.
"I wasn't snooping. She asked me to help organize bills because she says she can't afford her condo fees now that the card is canceled."
I examined the page.
It showed several deposits to Patricia's personal account.
The sender was Northstar Operations Inc.
I stared at the amounts.
Five thousand dollars.
Seven thousand five hundred.
Four thousand.
Another six thousand.
The deposits weren't ordinary reimbursements for spa treatments.
They were labeled as referral compensation.
Evelyn swallowed.
"I asked Mom why Northstar was paying her."
"What did she say?"
"She said it was a thank-you for introducing investors."
I checked the dates.
Some deposits occurred shortly after Helen and other investors reportedly joined the program.
I felt cold.
Patricia had already been receiving thousands of dollars through my supplementary card.
Now it appeared she had also received money for recruiting people into Grant's investment venture.
I looked at Evelyn.
"How much?"
She lowered her eyes.
"Mom says she received around fifty-four thousand dollars."
I stared at the statement.
More than fifty thousand dollars.
From an investment business using my name without permission.
"Does Helen know?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"I don't think so."
I sat down slowly.
A terrible possibility was taking shape.
Patricia hadn't merely recommended an investment because she believed it was safe.
She had been paid for bringing people into it.
And she hadn't disclosed that compensation to the people she persuaded.
Then Evelyn said something that made my blood run cold.
"Simone, when I asked Mom whether she actually watched you sign the guarantee, she started crying."
I looked up.
"What did she say?"
May you like
Evelyn's voice trembled.
"She said Grant told her that nobody would ever find out."
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