Chapter 2 - Someone Was Already Using My Name“YOUR SISTER'S VIDEO DIDN'T START THIS INVESTIGATION, MS. BELL. IT MAY HAVE GIVEN US THE FIRST CLEAR CONNECTION BETWEEN TWO PEOPLE WE'VE BEEN TRYING TO IDENTIFY.”
The woman who spoke was Detective Maya Serrano.
She arrived at my father's house shortly after four that afternoon, wearing a charcoal blazer over a white blouse.
She was in her early forties, with dark hair pulled into a low ponytail and the calm expression of someone accustomed to hearing terrible explanations.
Unlike the uniformed officers, she didn't seem particularly interested in Tessa's internet following.
She was interested in dates.
Names.
Banking records.
And the mysterious investor who had convinced my sister to photograph my workplace information.
“Before we continue,” Detective Serrano said, “I want everyone to understand that this is a criminal investigation. Nobody should speculate about what the evidence proves.”
Dad nodded quickly.
Tessa had stopped crying.
She sat beside him on the couch, holding a glass of water with both hands.
I'd never seen her look so small.
Serrano turned toward me.
“Lauren, how long have you worked for Ellison Risk Group?”
“Nine years.”
“And your current position?”
“Senior compensation analyst.”
“Do you have authority to change employee direct-deposit information?”
“No. I review compensation data and certain payroll exceptions, but I don't approve banking changes.”
The detective wrote something down.
“That's important.”
“Why?”
“Because several suspicious payroll adjustments appear to have been associated with your employee identity.”
I felt the room tilt.
“My identity?”
She nodded.
“Your name appears in documentation connected to unauthorized banking changes.”
“That isn't possible.”
“I understand your reaction.”
“No,” I said, leaning forward. “You don't understand. I would never touch another employee's banking information without authorization.”
“I haven't accused you of doing that.”
But her expression told me she was watching every reaction carefully.
I forced myself to breathe.
“Then what exactly is happening?”
She explained that Ellison had been quietly investigating irregular payroll activity since August.
Several employees had reported payments arriving late or failing to reach their accounts.
At first, the incidents seemed unrelated.
Then an internal review revealed suspicious changes associated with a small number of administrative records.
Four incentive payments, totaling more than eighty-six thousand dollars, had already been diverted.
Fourteen additional account-change requests had been flagged before processing.
I stared at her.
“Eighty-six thousand dollars?”
“That's the confirmed amount under review so far.”
Dad whispered something I couldn't hear.
Tessa lowered her head.
The detective continued.
“Your company had already reported the irregularities. This afternoon, someone circulated a video showing an internal notification linked to one of those suspicious records.”
“NC-441,” I said.
“Correct.”
That was the tiny notification visible behind my paycheck.
The one my sister had unknowingly broadcast to thousands of people.
“Why does that number matter?”
Serrano closed her notebook.
“Because it appears in records associated with a company called Northline Creative.”
I glanced at Tessa.
Her head rose slightly.
“Northline?”
The detective noticed.
“You recognize that name?”
Tessa looked at Dad.
Then at me.
“I think Mason mentioned it.”
“What did he say?”
“That it was his production company.”
The silence that followed felt enormous.
My sister had spent weeks talking about an investor who could make her famous.
Now his business name was appearing in an investigation involving stolen payroll money.
Detective Serrano leaned forward.
“Tessa, have you received any payments from this person or his business?”
Tessa looked down at her hands.
“I received an advance.”
“How much?”
She swallowed.
“Six thousand dollars.”
Dad closed his eyes.
I could barely process what I'd heard.
“You took six thousand dollars from a man you barely knew?”
“He was helping with the studio!”
“By asking you to photograph my computer?”
“He told me it was just employment verification!”
My voice sharpened.
“Employment verification doesn't require opening someone's private laptop!”
Tessa flinched.
Serrano raised one hand.
“Lauren, I know this is difficult. But we need to establish what happened without everyone speaking at once.”
I leaned back.
My hands were shaking.
Tessa stared at the floor.
The detective explained that a deposit wasn't, by itself, proof that my sister had knowingly participated in fraud.
But it was something investigators needed to examine.
They would seek banking records, preserve electronic communications, and determine whether Northline Creative was connected to the diverted payments.
I wanted answers immediately.
Instead, I received questions.
Had I shared passwords?
Had I approved any unusual employee requests?
Had I ever met Mason Kline?
Had I noticed anyone watching my computer?
I answered everything as carefully as possible.
Then Serrano asked something that changed the entire direction of the afternoon.
“Lauren, where were you last Tuesday at eleven forty-two in the morning?”
I frowned.
“At work.”
“Can you be more specific?”
I opened my personal calendar.
A meeting invitation appeared.
“Corporate compensation review. Conference room six. Almost sixty people attended.”
“Were you using your laptop?”
“No. I was presenting from the conference room's shared display system.”
She studied my answer.
“Could someone else have accessed your workstation?”
“Not with my permission.”
The detective exchanged a look with Officer Dawson.
“What's going on?” I asked.
She hesitated.
“An approval request associated with your credentials was submitted at eleven forty-two that morning.”
I stared at her.
“That can't be right.”
“That's why we're checking.”
“You're saying my work account approved something while I was in a meeting?”
“An approval appears under your identity. The investigation still needs to establish who actually submitted it.”
My thoughts raced backward.
Last Tuesday.
I'd been presenting updated salary ranges to our compensation committee.
My department director, Nadine Park, had chaired the meeting.
Adrian Lopez had attended for the security portion.
Dozens of people could confirm I was there.
But somebody had apparently been using my identity at the same time.
I looked toward Tessa.
“Did you have access to my computer last Tuesday?”
She shook her head.
“No. I wasn't even at your apartment.”
For once, I believed her.
The timeline didn't fit.
Tessa had accessed my laptop that afternoon, on Friday.
The suspicious approval had occurred three days earlier.
Something else was happening.
Something much bigger than my sister's cruel video.
Detective Serrano stood.
“Lauren, your employer may ask you to participate in a formal review. I strongly recommend you keep all relevant records and consider consulting an attorney.”
“Am I a suspect?”
She chose her words carefully.
“We're following evidence, not assumptions.”
Then she added something I would remember for months.
“Your sister's actions may have exposed important evidence. But that doesn't mean she's responsible for everything connected to it.”
I watched Tessa staring into her untouched glass of water.
For the first time, I saw the difference between the person who had humiliated me and the people who might have used her.
One was sitting in front of me.
The others were still out there.
And someone had apparently been committing fraud under my name before my sister ever touched my laptop.
But the worst part came that evening.
At 8:17 p.m., I received an email from Ellison's human resources department.
My paid administrative leave would begin immediately.
All corporate access would remain suspended.
And a preliminary review had identified an approval record carrying what appeared to be my electronic signature.
I read the final sentence twice.
Failure to satisfactorily explain the discrepancy may result in disciplinary action, including termination.
For the first time that day, I understood I might lose everything I'd worked for.
May you like
Not because of what I'd done.
But because somebody had learned how to make it look as though I'd done something I hadn't.
Related Stories
