We all have secrets. Some of these secrets are big, some small, some are out and a slight few are really kept. I do not have many secrets left. The ones I have left I like to get out in my own words before I am "outed." This is one of them. Grab something to drink and have a seat. This secret is a doozy.
I met a nice woman about four years ago. When I met her she was with her fiancé. I had advertised a house for rent and she and her fiancé responded. Fast forward several mistakes later and I rented the house to her. A newly built carriage style home. I liked that she had a young son. I admired that in her early forties she called me ma'am. I liked more that she paid the first and last month's rent in cash. Her application was filled out by her fiancé and in a matter of a few short days in she went. A new beginning for her and the empty house burden lifted from this landlord.
Little did I know the money she handed me on that day would be the only money I ever received from her. One additional month her fiancé made good on but that too would be the only time.
About two months into her tenancy, I was on vacation in Florida during April as I recall. I was by now trying so hard to get this woman and her fiancé to pay their rent I did a very stupid very spontaneous bad thing. I gave this couple my bank account number to deposit their "cash" rent. My internal "what the blank" went off inside me but I ignored it. I needed that deposit and I did not need the headache of chasing them down to get it. Within days, she had made business checks in my company's name, began charging utilities and appliances to the account. Further, she had completely taken over my identity. She even paid rent with money she had stolen from my account. Imagine seeing a check with your signature paid to you by you that is not you. I did. The bank called me on vacation and told me all about it. This story gets worse. Now the police get involved and through their investigation I learn this is not her first or second time doing this bad deed. She had previous arrests and a family who had completely disowned her to prove it. Even her fiancé was over it. Personally I think this was more because the police were involved than anything. He knew what she was doing and perhaps even participated.
Worst of all I had to pretend that I did not know she was pretending to be me at least during the initial investigation and until I could get her out of my house. She was now shacking with another dude and calling my house her property. Okay now for the really good part.
A few weeks later I am working in my office and a detective Smith rings my phone. He asked me if I knew a Sandy Brown (not her real name). After answering yes, he asked me to come down to the police precinct. He said Sandy was in custody and they needed to talk with me. I dropped everything and went to meet Detective Smith (his real name). Upon my arrival, the detective took one look at me and said, "I did not know if I was going to arrest you or interview you, but one look at you and that answer is obvious. Please sit down." He thought when he called me I might be a co conspirator with Sandy. Anyway on the table was a Louis Vuitton briefcase with all of these papers and IDs spilling out. It appears Sandy was arrested carrying this case. The IDs were identities she had assumed, some of which were those of dead people including one little boy. Of course on that table was the "fake" checks for my very real business that she had virtually cleaned out.
The detective told me a tale that had it not been told to me about me I would have never believed it. Sandy met some guy at a Quick Trip gas station. They began talking and he told her he needed a business plan. As luck would have it Sandy does business plans and she would be most happy to help him write one. Thing is Sandy was not Sandy posing as Sandy but Sandy posing as me, La Detra. Well Sandy ends up at a pay by the week hotel and somehow that business plan turns into a proposition for sex. Now the john who needed the "business plan" is in the bathroom and Sandy steals his money and everything else not tied down. This john calls the police and tells the truth. I was here with a prostitute and she stole my money and clothes. They immediately respond. Low and behold they find someone fitting her description near the hotel holding a briefcase and they approach her. She introduces herself as none other than La Detra White, true story.
So someone using my name was a "working girl". Flabbergasted, the first words from my mouth hanging down to the floor were, "So was I any good? Did I make a lot of money?"
The story ends with Sandy being prosecuted again and received up to ten years in prison. And that is my big unforgettable, learned way too many lessons to count secret.
I know you don't have to say it because likely I have already said it to myself. Yes ma'am.
The only thing Sandy and I have in common is we both know how to write a business plan.
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