The blonde woman stood so abruptly that the bench scraped against the courtroom floor.
Every head turned.
She made it two steps toward the doors before the bailiff moved into the aisle.
“Ma’am.”
She stopped.
Her sunglasses were still on.
The silence in the courtroom had changed. A moment earlier, people had been listening to a financial dispute. Now everyone understood that something else had entered the room.
The judge leaned forward.
“Who is that woman?”
No one answered immediately.
Margaret Wilkes sat rigid in the witness chair, one hand gripping the edge of the wooden rail.
“That’s the customer,” she said.
Brian’s attorney rose.
“Your Honor, this is highly irregular.”
Daniel didn’t move.
“Mrs. Wilkes was asked whether she could identify the person. She has done so.”
“She pointed to a stranger in the gallery.”
The judge looked toward the back.
“Then perhaps we should establish who she is.”
The bailiff asked the woman for identification.
She hesitated long enough for everyone to notice.
Then she opened her handbag.
My eyes went to Patricia.
She was no longer watching the woman.
She was looking at the floor.
The bailiff read the name from the license and passed it forward to the clerk.
“Elaine Porter.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But Brian reacted.
Not dramatically.
Just a small tightening across his face.
I turned toward him.
“You know her.”
He didn’t look at me.
Patricia did.
Her eyes snapped toward her son.
That was answer enough.
Daniel saw it too.
He stood.
“Your Honor, given the witness identification and the apparent connection between Ms. Porter and the Brooks family, we request that she remain available for questioning.”
Brian’s attorney objected again.
The judge cut him off.
“Is Ms. Porter a party to this matter?”
“No.”
“Then no one is detaining her without legal authority.”
The blonde woman exhaled.
Relief crossed her face.
Then the judge added, “However, if counsel believes her testimony is relevant, you may issue the appropriate subpoena.”
Daniel nodded once.
“We will.”
Elaine Porter looked directly at Patricia.
It lasted perhaps half a second.
Then she walked out.
That glance followed me through the rest of the hearing.
Margaret Wilkes repeated that Elaine strongly resembled the customer she remembered from the bank.
“Are you certain?” Brian’s attorney asked.
“I’m certain enough that I recognized her before anyone told me her name.”
“You last saw the customer months ago.”
“Yes.”
“Human memory is imperfect.”
“So is mine.”
“Then you could be wrong.”
“I could.”
Brian’s attorney relaxed.
Then Mrs. Wilkes continued.
“But she has the same face, the same mouth, and the same little scar near her eyebrow.”
The attorney paused.
“What scar?”
Mrs. Wilkes touched the outer edge of her left eyebrow.
“The woman at my window had a pale line there. That woman does too.”
I hadn’t noticed it from across the courtroom.
But when Elaine had turned toward the doors, I had seen enough of her profile to understand why she could pass for me at a careless glance.
Her age appeared close to mine.
Her height was similar.
Her hair was now blonde, but the roots were darker.
With different makeup and my glasses, she could have resembled the photograph on my license.
Especially if the teller expected the identification to be genuine.
Especially if she wore my ring.
Daniel asked one final question.
“Did the customer ever identify herself as anyone other than Angela Brooks?”
“No.”
“Did she ever hesitate when stating the account holder’s information?”
“No.”
“So whoever she was, she knew the answers.”
“Yes.”
The hearing ended with the judge ordering expanded discovery.
Brian’s allegation that I had hidden marital funds remained unresolved, but for the first time the court record contained direct testimony that another woman had impersonated me.
Outside the courtroom, Brian caught my arm.
I pulled away.
“Who is Elaine Porter?”
He looked over his shoulder.
Patricia was approaching.
“Brian.”
“I barely know her.”
Patricia stepped between us.
“This is not the place.”
I stared at her.
“You know her.”
“She’s an acquaintance.”
“From where?”
“That is none of your business.”
Daniel appeared beside me.
“If she impersonated my client and stole marital assets, it is very much our business.”
Patricia’s face tightened.
Brian rubbed the back of his neck.
“Mom knows her from years ago.”
“How many years?”
Patricia answered before he could.
“Long enough.”
I laughed quietly.
“You’re still trying to control what information comes out.”
“That is absurd.”
“Then tell me who she is.”
“She used to work for a friend.”
“What friend?”
Patricia’s mouth hardened.
Daniel touched my elbow lightly.
Not now.
I understood.
Confronting Patricia in a courthouse hallway would produce nothing useful.
We needed Elaine under oath.
By that afternoon, Daniel’s investigator had already started searching.
Elaine Porter lived forty minutes away in a small town called Addison Creek.
She was forty-one.
Divorced.
No children.
She had worked as an office manager, bookkeeper and receptionist at several businesses over the previous fifteen years.
One of those businesses stopped me cold.
Brooks Family Construction.
Brian’s father’s company.
Elaine had worked there for nearly six years.
Patricia had handled bookkeeping for that company after Brian’s father became ill.
They had known each other well.
Very well.
When Daniel told me, I sat silently across from his desk.
“How did Brian not mention that?”
“Maybe he didn’t know.”
“He recognized her.”
“Yes.”
“He said he barely knew her.”
“That may be true.”
I looked through the information the investigator had gathered.
Elaine had left the company seven years earlier.
That was before Brian and I married.
Her old employee records listed Patricia as her supervisor.
“Why did she leave?”
“We’re finding out.”
“Was she fired?”
“Possibly.”
“For what?”
“Give me a day.”
Daniel’s idea of giving him a day usually meant he already had someone searching courthouse filings, employment records and old contacts.
I went home and did the only useful thing I could think of.
I searched Patricia’s social media.
Most of her profile was mundane.
Garden pictures.
Church luncheons.
Holiday dinners.
Photographs of Brian.
I scrolled backward year by year.
Elaine appeared for the first time eight years earlier.
A company Christmas dinner.
She stood behind Patricia with one arm around another employee.
Her hair was brown then.
Much closer to mine.
I saved the photograph.
Another image showed them at a summer fundraiser.
Patricia and Elaine stood side by side.
Not supervisor and employee.
Friends.
I kept searching.
Then, six and a half years earlier, Elaine disappeared completely.
No more photographs.
No comments.
No tags.
Nothing.
I checked Patricia’s old posts around that period.
One stood out.
“Some people mistake kindness for weakness. Eventually you learn who deserves access to your life.”
Dozens of friends had commented.
I read each one.
Most were vague.
Stay strong.
Praying for you.
You did the right thing.
Then I found a comment from someone named Carol Mason.
“At least the company books are safe now.”
Patricia had replied with a laughing emoji.
I stared at the screen.
Company books.
Elaine had been a bookkeeper.
I sent the screenshot to Daniel.
He called five minutes later.
“That is useful.”
“What happened?”
“We’re checking.”
“Could Elaine have stolen from the company?”
“Maybe.”
“And Patricia caught her?”
“Maybe.”
“Then why would Patricia work with her now?”
Daniel paused.
“Because relationships built around secrets don’t always make logical sense.”
The next morning his investigator found a retired employee willing to talk.
Her name was Susan Pike.
She had worked at Brooks Family Construction for nineteen years.
Daniel arranged a meeting at a coffee shop.
Susan was sixty-eight, small and sharp-eyed, with the posture of someone who had spent a lifetime noticing what happened around her.
The moment I showed her Elaine’s photograph, she frowned.
“That woman was trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Numbers.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Can you be more specific?”
Susan wrapped both hands around her coffee.
“Checks went missing. Vendor payments didn’t match invoices. Small amounts at first.”
“Did anyone report it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Patricia handled it privately.”
My pulse quickened.
“What happened?”
“Elaine left.”
“Was she fired?”
Susan’s mouth twisted.
“That was the story.”
“What do you mean?”
“Patricia said Elaine resigned for personal reasons. Nobody believed it.”
“Did Elaine steal money?”
Susan looked at me carefully.
“I can’t prove it.”
“We’re not asking you to.”
“She was caught changing numbers.”
“Caught by whom?”
“Patricia.”
Daniel asked, “How much money?”
“Maybe twelve thousand over time. Could’ve been more.”
“Why wasn’t law enforcement involved?”
Susan gave a humorless laugh.
“Because Patricia hated scandal more than she hated theft.”
That sounded exactly like her.
“Did Patricia recover the money?”
“I don’t know.”
“Were they enemies afterward?”
Susan considered that.
“That’s the strange part.”
“What?”
“Elaine came around again.”
“When?”
“After Mr. Brooks got sick.”
Brian’s father had died five years before I met Brian.
“What did Elaine do?”
“Helped Patricia with paperwork.”
“Even after she’d supposedly stolen from the company?”
Susan shrugged.
“Like I said. Strange.”
Daniel wrote something in his notebook.
“Did they remain in contact?”
“I saw them together at least twice after Elaine left.”
“Where?”
“Once at a restaurant. Once at Patricia’s house.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
Patricia had lied.
Not by omission.
Directly.
She had described Elaine as an old acquaintance.
In reality, Elaine had been an employee accused of financial misconduct and later continued visiting Patricia privately.
When the meeting ended, Daniel waited until Susan had driven away.
“This is starting to look organized.”
“It already looked organized.”
“Now we can demonstrate a prior relationship.”
“Between Patricia and the woman who impersonated me.”
“Yes.”
“Can we subpoena Patricia’s phone records?”
“We can request relevant communications.”
“Will we get them?”
“Depends on the judge.”
“What if she deleted messages?”
“That doesn’t always mean they’re gone.”
My phone rang.
Brian.
I almost let it go to voicemail.
Daniel nodded toward it.
“Answer.”
I put the call on speaker.
“What?”
Brian sounded shaken.
“Mom says you’re investigating Dad’s company.”
“I’m investigating Elaine.”
“You talked to Susan Pike.”
“Yes.”
“Angela, you need to be careful.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Your mother said the same thing.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“You don’t know what you’re digging into.”
That wording again.
Digging.
“What do you know that I don’t?”
Silence.
“Brian?”
“There were problems before Dad died.”
“What problems?”
“Money.”
I closed my eyes.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Elaine steal from the business?”
“That’s what Mom said.”
“Then why did she keep seeing her?”
Brian didn’t answer.
Daniel leaned closer to the phone.
“Brian, this is Daniel Mercer. If you have information relevant to stolen marital funds, withholding it could become a serious issue.”
Brian exhaled sharply.
“I’m not withholding anything.”
“Then answer Angela’s question.”
A long pause followed.
Finally Brian said, “Because Elaine knew something about my dad.”
I felt my skin go cold.
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I was nineteen. Nobody told me details.”
“What did you hear?”
Brian’s voice dropped.
“I heard them fighting once.”
“Who?”
“Mom and Elaine.”
“About what?”
“Dad.”
I waited.
Brian continued reluctantly.
“Elaine said if Mom ruined her life, she could ruin ours.”
Daniel and I looked at each other.
“What did your mother say?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You remember enough to tell me this now.”
“I remember Mom crying afterward.”
That surprised me.
Patricia did not strike me as a woman who cried easily.
“What happened next?”
“Elaine disappeared from the company.”
“And years later?”
“I saw her at Mom’s house once.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“You told me you barely knew her.”
“I barely do.”
“But you knew your mother was still in contact with her.”
“Yes.”
“You knew that when Margaret pointed at Elaine in court.”
He was silent.
“Brian.”
“Yes.”
My voice went quiet.
“And you still didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t know what it meant.”
“You didn’t want to know.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s exactly what you’ve been doing since the money disappeared. Every time evidence points away from me and toward something uncomfortable for your family, you decide confusion is safer.”
He didn’t answer.
I ended the call.
Daniel waited.
Then he said, “We need Patricia under oath.”
Two weeks later, we got her.
The deposition room was colder than necessary.
Patricia arrived with her own attorney.
That detail mattered.
She was no longer behaving like a mother helping her son through a divorce.
She was protecting herself.
Daniel began with routine questions.
Name.
Address.
Relationship to Brian.
Relationship to me.
Then Elaine.
“Do you know Elaine Porter?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She worked for my late husband.”
“How long?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Approximately?”
“Several years.”
“Did you supervise her?”
“Occasionally.”
“Were you friends?”
“No.”
I stared at Patricia.
Daniel slid several photographs onto the table.
Company dinner.
Fundraiser.
Birthday gathering.
Patricia barely looked at them.
“People take pictures together.”
“Did Ms. Porter visit your home after leaving Brooks Family Construction?”
“I don’t recall.”
Daniel produced Susan Pike’s sworn statement.
Patricia’s attorney objected to characterization.
Daniel remained calm.
“Mrs. Brooks, did you ever accuse Elaine Porter of stealing from the company?”
“No.”
“Did you discover discrepancies in company records she handled?”
Patricia hesitated.
“There were accounting issues.”
“Caused by whom?”
“We never established that.”
“Why did Ms. Porter leave?”
“She resigned.”
“Did you ask her to resign?”
“I may have suggested it was best.”
“Why?”
“Performance concerns.”
Daniel paused.
Then came the question that changed Patricia’s posture.
“Have you spoken to Elaine Porter within the last twelve months?”
Patricia’s fingers stopped moving.
Until then she had been turning a pen slowly between them.
Now the pen lay still.
“I don’t remember.”
Her attorney glanced at her.
Daniel leaned back.
“That is a yes-or-no question.”
“I speak to many people.”
“Have you spoken to Elaine Porter within the last year?”
Patricia stared at him.
“Yes.”
My pulse quickened.
“How many times?”
“I don’t know.”
“More than five?”
“Possibly.”
“More than ten?”
“I don’t count my calls.”
“When did you last speak to her?”
“I don’t remember.”
Daniel opened another folder.
“Would seeing your phone records help?”
Patricia’s face changed.
Not much.
But enough.
Daniel noticed.
So did I.
He placed a page on the table.
“These records show forty-three calls between your number and Elaine Porter’s over six months.”
Brian’s mother went completely still.
Forty-three.
Not an old acquaintance.
Not someone from the distant past.
Forty-three calls.
Daniel tapped the page.
“Mrs. Brooks, why were you speaking with a woman you just testified was neither your friend nor someone you regularly dealt with?”
Patricia looked toward her attorney.
He whispered something.
Then she faced Daniel.
“She needed help.”
“With what?”
“Money.”
A strange chill moved through me.
“What kind of help?”
“Loans.”
“How much?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you give her money?”
“Yes.”
“Cash?”
“Sometimes.”
“How much altogether?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Did any of that money come from the sixty-one thousand dollars stolen from Angela and Brian’s account?”
Patricia’s chair creaked as she shifted.
“No.”
“Did you instruct Elaine Porter to impersonate Angela Brooks?”
“No.”
“Did you provide her with Angela’s identification?”
“No.”
“Did you give her Angela’s grandmother’s emerald ring?”
“No.”
Each answer came faster.
Too fast.
Daniel let the silence sit.
Then he asked, “Have you ever been inside Angela and Brian’s bedroom when Angela was not present?”
Patricia’s face drained of color.
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I saw genuine fear in her eyes.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: Patricia Denied Entering My Bedroom Until a Forgotten Security System Recorded the One Visit She Could No Longer Explain Away
The Morning Sixty-One Thousand Dollars Vanished, My Husband Looked at Me Like He Had Already Decided Who Was Guilty
Part 5 of 20
