Chapter 7 - THE INVESTMENT THAT NEVER EXISTED
Paul called on Thursday.
He had traced the supposed real estate opportunity Thomas had mentioned when the twelve thousand dollars disappeared.
“Rose, the company name on the transfer doesn't match a registered investment entity.”
“What does it match?”
“A private account controlled by an individual named Michael Turner. We believe that's the Mike from the birthday dinner.”
I sat down.
“Are you saying Mike took the money?”
“I'm saying the transfer went to an account he controlled. We need more records before drawing conclusions.”
Sarah joined the call.
Paul explained that the apartment payments had been made from more than one source. Some came from our joint savings. Others came from Thomas's personal account. There were also charges for furniture, electronics, and travel.
Then he found something unexpected.
A payment of $6,500 had been made to a company that appeared to provide consulting services to Thomas's employer.
I recognized the company name from an invoice I had once seen in his briefcase.
“Could that be related to his work?”
“Possibly,” Paul said. “We can't say yet. The company is registered to a relative of Mike Turner.”
Sarah made a note.
“This needs to be reviewed separately. Rose, don't contact Mike or Thomas about it.”
I agreed.
The following day, David called again.
This time, he sounded anxious.
“Rose, I need to ask you something. Did Thomas ever ask you to prepare a financial statement for an outside business?”
“No.”
“Did he ever use your firm's name to support a private investment?”
“Not with my permission.”
David paused.
“Our compliance team has received a question about a document bearing your firm's letterhead.”
My stomach tightened.
“What document?”
“A summary of projected returns for a real estate investment. Your name appears at the bottom.”
I felt cold.
“I did not prepare that document.”
“I suspected you might say that.”
“Send it to my attorney. Do not circulate it further.”
“I will.”
Sarah received the document that afternoon. It contained formatting copied from one of my firm's old reports, but the figures were not ours and the signature was not mine.
My business attorney advised us to preserve the original file and notify the appropriate parties that the document was unauthorized.
The issue was no longer only a marital dispute.
Someone had used my professional identity to make a questionable investment look legitimate.
I sat in Sarah's office while she studied the document.
“Thomas may have thought your reputation would make it look credible,” she said.
“He knows I would never sign off on projections I hadn't reviewed.”
“Then we make that clear.”
I thought of all the times Thomas had introduced me as the person who handled the numbers. He had treated my expertise like a decoration until he needed it.
Now he had used my name without permission.
For the first time, my anger felt clean.
I was no longer angry because he had chosen another woman.
I was angry because he had tried to turn my work, my savings, and my reputation into tools for his own deception.
Sarah arranged for my business attorney to contact the company whose name appeared on the false report. They confirmed that they had not received a report from my firm and had no record of me approving the projections.
The original document was preserved, including its creation date and the email through which it had been circulated. My attorney advised me not to speculate about who had prepared it until the evidence was reviewed.
I followed that advice.
At work, I told Denise only what she needed to know: my name had been used without permission, and the matter was being handled by counsel. She asked whether we should notify every client.
“We should notify the people who received it or may reasonably rely on it,” I said. “We don't need to frighten clients who have never seen it.”
We prepared a short, professional clarification. It stated that the document was not issued by my firm and that any questions should be directed to our office.
The response was immediate. One client thanked us for being transparent. Another asked for a copy of our standard verification process. We provided it.
That afternoon, I looked at the old letterhead file on my computer. It had been used for years. I had never thought of it as anything more than a template.
Now I understood that a person's reputation could be borrowed by someone who had no right to it.
I changed the template, added a verification code, and restricted access to the staff who needed it.
The task took less than an hour.
The lesson would stay with me much longer.
A formal response from the company arrived several days later. They confirmed that my firm had never issued the investment summary and that the signature attributed to me did not match the signature on our authenticated documents.
My business attorney asked whether I wanted to pursue the matter immediately.
“I want the record corrected,” I said. “I want our clients protected. I want the people who received it to know it wasn't ours.”
He agreed that those were sensible priorities. He explained that any further action would depend on what the investigation established.
The matter began to move beyond my marriage. The company's compliance department requested the original email chain. My attorney provided the preserved copy and a statement about our document controls.
I was asked to identify the template used in the false report. I recognized it as an old format we had stopped using two years earlier.
That detail mattered. The document had been built from a file Thomas could have accessed during the period when he occasionally helped me carry boxes into the office after events. It did not prove who had created it, but it narrowed the questions.
I gave the information to counsel and did not speculate.
Later, David called to say the company had placed the outside investment issue under review.
“I don't know what will happen,” he said. “But I wanted you to know they're taking it seriously.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
He paused.
“I should have said something at the birthday dinner.”
“Yes,” I said. “You should have.”
“I am sorry.”
May you like
I accepted the apology without making it smaller than it was.
Then I ended the call and returned to the report on my desk. There was still work to do, and I was determined not to let Thomas's actions become the center of every day.
