Chapter 5: The Wife He Tried to Make Responsible for His Debts
Dad grabbed his car keys.
Mom was already reaching for her handbag.
I opened the message Jasmine had sent and looked at the photograph attached.
It was a copy of an apartment application.
Her name appeared beneath Marcus's.
But she had never mentioned signing it.
"How did he get your information?"" I asked.
Jasmine sounded exhausted.
"He said it was just an application. He told me the apartment company needed my details because we were married.""
Dad started the engine.
"Did you sign it?""
"I signed something on his phone.""
Mom turned toward her.
"Did you read it?""
Jasmine began crying.
"No. He said it was just permission to run a background check.""
Dad gripped the steering wheel.
"Jasmine, we're on our way. Don't confront him again.""
We arrived at the motel twenty minutes later.
Jasmine was sitting on the edge of a bed near the window.
Her black outfit was wrinkled, and her tan handbag rested beside her.
Her wedding ring sat on the bedside table.
When Mom entered, Jasmine stood up.
"I'm sorry.""
Mom embraced her.
"Don't apologize for asking for help.""
Jasmine broke down.
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she explained what had happened.
Marcus had returned to the motel after leaving our house.
He had been angry, pacing around the room, and making phone calls.
When Jasmine asked where they were going, he told her they needed to find somewhere else to stay.
She asked about the apartment.
He told her the lease had fallen through.
Then she asked about Victoria.
He accused her of destroying his business.
Finally, he showed her a document and demanded that she acknowledge responsibility for the remaining apartment expenses.
"How much?"" Dad asked.
"Almost twenty-four thousand dollars.""
Dad's expression hardened.
"Did you agree to pay that?""
"No.""
"Did you sign it?""
Jasmine nodded.
"I signed the application. But I didn't know it was a financial guarantee.""
Dad sat down.
"Do you have a copy?""
She opened her handbag and removed a folded document.
Her hands trembled as she passed it to him.
Dad examined the first page.
Then he turned to the final page.
"Jasmine, this isn't simply an application.""
She covered her face.
"I know.""
Mom sat beside her.
"Listen. We need to get you proper advice before you respond to anyone. Don't assume you're responsible just because your name appears on a document. And don't let Marcus pressure you into admitting anything.""
Jasmine nodded.
I looked at the signature.
Unlike the forged signature on my agreement, hers appeared genuine.
But there were several pages of terms she claimed she had never seen.
Dad photographed every page.
Then he asked Jasmine whether she had any messages showing what Marcus had told her before she signed.
She opened her phone.
"I saved them.""
The messages were painful to read.
Marcus had written:
Baby, this is just paperwork. We need both names because we're married.
Jasmine had replied:
Does this mean I owe anything?
Marcus:
No. It's just for the landlord.
Another message read:
Don't worry about the details. I've already arranged everything.
Dad placed the phone on the bed.
"That's important.""
Jasmine wiped her eyes.
"He said he was protecting me.""
Mom took her hand.
"Protecting you would have meant telling you the truth.""
Jasmine looked down.
Then she whispered:
"I think he married me because he needed my credit.""
Nobody answered.
It was the first time anyone had said the possibility aloud.
Dad looked at the apartment paperwork again.
The application included a financial assessment.
Jasmine's income was listed as significantly higher than Marcus's.
Her employment information had been entered correctly.
But Marcus's income was exaggerated.
He had listed himself as the owner of an established event company.
And he had listed Jasmine as the primary financial guarantor.
Dad looked at me.
"Take a picture of this.""
I did.
Then I noticed another section.
There was an emergency contact.
Victoria Hayes.
Jasmine saw it.
Her mouth fell open.
"Why is her name there?""
Dad didn't answer.
He simply turned the page.
The application had been submitted four months earlier.
That meant Marcus had begun arranging the apartment before Jasmine had even agreed to marry him.
And he had used both women in different ways.
Victoria had financed the apartment.
Jasmine had been presented as the financial guarantor.
Marcus had positioned himself in the middle, promising each woman a different future.
Mom slowly stood up.
"I need to ask you something, Jasmine.""
"Yes?""
"Did you know Marcus had a business partner before the wedding?""
Jasmine shook her head.
"He said he was working with someone who had experience in event planning. He never told me they were involved personally.""
Dad looked at the document.
"Did he tell you he was living with Victoria?""
"No.""
"Did he tell you about the fifteen thousand dollars?""
"No.""
Jasmine stared at her wedding ring.
Then she removed it from the bedside table and placed it inside her handbag.
"I don't want anything from him.""
Mom nodded.
"You don't have to decide everything today.""
Jasmine looked up.
"But I do need to know something.""
"What?""
"Did your family ever know he was seeing Victoria?""
Mom answered immediately.
"No.""
Jasmine closed her eyes.
"Then I wasn't the only one he lied to.""
On the drive back, Dad made several calls.
He contacted the apartment management company and formally disputed the information submitted under his family's names.
He also contacted the bank about the unauthorized use of my identity.
He didn't promise Jasmine that everything would disappear.
Instead, he told her to preserve every message, every document, and every payment record.
When we returned home, a package was waiting at the front door.
There was no return address.
Dad carried it inside.
Inside was a thick envelope containing printed photographs.
The first showed Marcus and Victoria standing outside the apartment building.
The second showed them entering a restaurant together.
The third showed Marcus holding hands with Victoria.
But the fourth photograph was different.
It showed Marcus sitting at a table with a man in a gray suit.
A stack of documents sat between them.
And on the table was a folder with the name of a company printed across the front.
*CARTER FAMILY HOLDINGS.*
Mom stared at it.
"That's not our company.""
Dad picked up the photograph.
"No.""
I looked at him.
"What is Carter Family Holdings?""
Dad shook his head.
"I've never heard of it.""
But then he noticed the man sitting across from Marcus.
His face changed.
"Wait.""
He brought the photograph closer.
"That's Robert.""
"Who?"" I asked.
Dad swallowed.
"Robert Mitchell. He used to handle some of my business paperwork.""
Mom frowned.
"Used to?""
Dad nodded.
"I fired him two years ago.""
"Why?""
Dad didn't answer immediately.
He turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten note on the back.
The first payment came from the family account. Ask James who approved it.
Mom slowly turned toward Dad.
"What family account?""
Dad's face went pale.
I had never seen him look like that.
He walked to his office and opened the locked filing cabinet.
He searched through several folders before pulling out a bank statement.
Then another.
And another.
His hands were shaking.
"What is it?"" Mom asked.
Dad placed the statements on the desk.
"Someone accessed the old family business account.""
Mom looked confused.
"That account hasn't been active for years.""
"Exactly.""
Dad pointed at the transaction history.
A transfer of $18,000 had been made from the account eight months earlier.
The recipient was a company called Carter Family Holdings.
I looked at the document.
Then at Dad.
"Who authorized it?""
Dad examined the signature.
His expression became unreadable.
Because the signature belonged to someone who should never have had access to that account.
Mom leaned closer.
"James?""
He turned the paper toward us.
The authorization had been signed by:
*Evelyn Carter.*
May you like
My grandmother.
She had passed away eleven months earlier.
