Chapter 12 - THE WOMAN USING MY NAME
The woman entered the courthouse wearing a dark brown wig, oversized glasses, and a surgical mask.
She carried a Maryland driver’s license bearing my name.
The photograph resembled me from a distance.
The birth date was correct.
The address belonged to Jared’s apartment.
She arrived with an attorney who had filed the emergency trust petition.
Detective Morales’s team identified her before she reached the courtroom.
Her name was Natalie Voss.
Martin’s daughter.
She was thirty-one years old and had worked as a makeup artist for independent films.
She knew how to alter the shape of her face.
She also knew my height, mannerisms, and signature.
For months, she had studied recordings from the hidden cameras.
That was why the family collected so much footage.
The videos were not only intended to make me appear unstable.
They were training material for someone preparing to impersonate me.
Natalie was detained in the courthouse hallway.
Her attorney claimed she was a victim of identity theft and believed the documents were genuine.
No one accepted that explanation after police found three additional identification cards inside her bag.
Each carried my photograph with minor variations.
The judge suspended the trust proceeding.
All Mercer assets were placed under independent court supervision.
For the first time, the shares were truly beyond the reach of Dwight, Jared, Susan, Martin, and Christopher.
I should have felt relief.
Instead, I felt watched by my own face.
Someone had practiced my signature.
Someone had studied how I walked.
Someone had learned when I paused before answering questions.
My privacy had been taken long before the money.
Claire attended the hearing beside me.
Amy sat on my other side.
Ryan watched remotely from the hospital.
Christopher remained absent under advice from his attorney.
The judge ordered a full investigation into the trust’s history.
A neutral forensic accountant was appointed.
Every amendment would be examined.
Every signature would be tested.
Every person who had attempted to control the shares would be questioned.
Susan’s plan had failed.
But Susan remained missing.
Martin remained missing.
And Natalie refused to say where they were.
After the hearing, Ashley requested to speak with me.
Her attorney arranged the meeting at the prosecutor’s office.
I almost refused.
Then I remembered that Ashley had known me for more than a decade.
She might understand Susan’s next move.
Ashley entered wearing plain clothes and no makeup.
She looked younger.
Less polished.
The woman who had stood beside me at the wedding had always appeared perfectly prepared.
This version looked exhausted.
“I am accepting a plea agreement,” she said.
“For what?”
“Conspiracy, identity theft, and unlawful surveillance.”
“What about the kidnapping?”
“I did not plan Amy’s abduction.”
“You helped take the folder to the warehouse.”
“Yes.”
“You threatened Ryan.”
“Martin did.”
“You stood beside him.”
Her eyes dropped.
“Yes.”
“Why did you ask to see me?”
“Because Susan will approach you directly.”
“She has already sent videos.”
“No.”
Ashley leaned forward.
“I mean physically.”
“Why?”
“She needs your voice.”
“For what?”
“The stock-transfer authorization requires a live verbal confirmation.”
“Can it not be blocked?”
“The original process was created before modern biometric protections.”
Claire’s attorney had explained something similar.
Several of the company’s historical shares remained in certificated form.
A transfer could require notarized paperwork and a recorded confirmation.
Martin controlled the old corporate seals.
Susan had attempted identity impersonation through Natalie.
Now that the court exposed the attempt, they might try to force the real beneficiary to speak.
“Where will she take me?”
“I do not know.”
“How helpful.”
Ashley flinched.
“You have every right to hate me.”
“This is not about hate.”
“It should be.”
“Hating you would require energy I no longer owe you.”
The words affected her more than anger would have.
She looked toward the observation window.
“I did not become your friend because of Martin.”
I remained silent.
“I met you before I worked for the records company.”
“You still chose him.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Your mother’s funeral.”
I stared at her.
Ashley had stood beside me during the service.
She had held my hand while I cried.
Afterward, Martin approached her in the parking lot.
He told her that my mother had hidden millions from me.
He claimed the money had been stolen from the Hale and Voss families.
He offered Ashley a percentage if she helped recover the shares.
“At first, I refused,” she said.
“What changed?”
“My father needed surgery.”
Martin paid the hospital deposit.
The debt became leverage.
He asked for small things.
My current address.
Copies of documents.
Information about my relationships.
Then he asked her to introduce me to Dwight.
“You could have told me.”
“I was afraid Martin would stop paying for my father’s treatment.”
“Is your father alive?”
Ashley shook her head.
“He died four years ago.”
“You continued after his death.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“By then, Martin had recordings, forged documents, and proof of everything I had done.”
“That explains fear.”
“I also wanted the money.”
The admission was quiet.
At least it was real.
“Did you love Dwight?”
“I thought I did.”
“You were using each other.”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever intend to leave me for you?”
Ashley gave a sad smile.
“He told me he did.”
The hotel-room video had not been a promise.
It had been another layer of manipulation.
Dwight told Ashley she would receive the life he was building with my money.
He told me Ashley was like family.
He told Susan he would restore the Hale inheritance.
He told himself he would stop everything before anyone was harmed.
Every person received the lie they most wanted.
“What does Susan want beyond the shares?” I asked.
“Control.”
“That is not specific.”
“She wants Jared to believe she saved the family.”
“Jared is in custody.”
“She still needs him to need her.”
Susan’s identity had been built around being indispensable.
She cooked, organized, soothed, and manipulated.
She turned every favor into a debt.
If the family collapsed without her, she could still view herself as the center.
“What will Martin do if the plan fails?” I asked.
“Disappear again.”
“And Susan?”
“She will punish the person she blames.”
“Me.”
Ashley looked toward Amy through the glass.
“Not necessarily.”
The meeting ended.
Police increased security around Amy, Claire, and me.
Ryan was moved to a protected medical facility.
Gemma requested immunity in exchange for testimony.
She admitted helping provoke me but claimed she knew nothing about the trust.
She provided access to Susan’s private email account.
Most messages had been deleted.
Priya recovered fragments.
One contained train schedules.
Another referenced a property called Rose House.
Claire recognized the name.
Rose House had been my mother’s childhood home.
The property stood empty outside Annapolis.
It had never been sold because the title remained entangled in the Mercer Trust.
Susan might believe original stock certificates were hidden there.
Morales sent officers to search the house.
They found recent footprints, food, and portable recording equipment.
Susan and Martin had been there.
They had left hours earlier.
On the kitchen wall, Susan had written a message.
BRING ELIZABETH HOME.
Beneath it was a date.
Tomorrow.
And a time.
6:00 p.m.
There was no location.
Then Claire noticed the old grandfather clock.
Its hands had been stopped at 6:00.
Behind the clock, police found a photograph of a small stone chapel.
I recognized it immediately.
Dwight and I had been married there.
Susan wanted me to return to the place where the trap became official.
May you like
This time, she did not intend to use an impersonator.
She wanted the real bride.
