Guarded from Sabotage (Blade and Arrow Security Bravo Team #2)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

DANTE

I never thought about the real impact of identity theft before.

Of course, I knew it was a huge problem. I read the news. And I know people who’ve dealt with it before—a stolen credit card number, an account opened in their name—even my dad had to put a freeze on his credit after he unknowingly used an ATM with a skimming device installed.

But those all seemed like more annoyances than anything else. A call to the bank, a new credit card number, and eventually the problem was solved. No one I know personally has ever had their entire identity stolen. They’ve never lost thousands of dollars that the bank refuses to reimburse.

At least, not until now.

Until Sarah.

And now I’m learning how bad it can really get.

It’s horrible, sitting here listening to Sarah explain in painstaking detail how her life has been torn apart. It’s awful watching her try not to cry—biting her lower lip til it’s raw, swallowing hard, her chin jutting out and the tiny muscles in her jaw working. And it’s painful to see the strong, beautiful woman I met months ago with such a despairing look in her eyes, like she’s mentally preparing herself for yet another person to discount her story.

But I’m not. There’s no question in my mind that everything Sarah’s telling me is the truth.

On the way over here, I had to prepare myself for the possibility this was all an elaborate hoax. Sarah wouldn’t be the first person to find themselves in serious debt and struggling to find a way out of it. She could have made up this story, hoping generous Hanna would come to her aid, and by extension, Blade and Arrow.

I didn’t want to believe that, though. My gut said it wasn’t so. Not after the hours I spent talking to Sarah at the wedding—learning about her family and interests and how she loves books and movies that make her cry. Not after I opened up to her; talking about my own family and my love of anything history and admitting how strange it felt to be a civilian again.

Even though my heart and brain were telling me to believe her, I needed to come into this like I would any case. It was something I’d talked to Cole about, back when we first were discussing the Bravo Team branch.

During one of those early phone calls, he said, “It was hard, especially in the beginning. I wanted to believe everyone. And most people were telling the truth. But before I committed the team to a case, I had to be sure. Or as sure as possible. Sometimes we have to ask hard questions, and I feel bad about that. But it’s the only way to make sure we’re helping the people who really need it.”

As team leader, I need to do the same thing.

But it was really hard to stay neutral as Sarah recalled those first calls to the credit card companies, her voice shaking as she said, “They didn’t believe me. I gave them all my info—old addresses, model of my first car, my first job, anything they asked. But they told me it was all wrong. And then they accused me of trying to commit fraud. One of them even threatened to call the police.”

And it was really hard to remain unbiased as Sarah teared up while she talked about the aggressive calls she received from debt collectors, threatening lawsuits and liens and garnished wages if she didn’t start making payments on loans she never took out.

Now she’s telling me about the day the police showed up at her work, the new job she was trying so hard to make a good impression at, tears glistening in her big hazel eyes, and I have to fight the urge to slide across the couch and pull her into my arms.

Which would be completely inappropriate given that not only is she a potential client, but last I knew, she was engaged to a doctor in San Antonio.

Although. Where is he? Why isn’t Sarah’s fiancé here supporting her? Yes, he’s a doctor and they have unpredictable schedules, but if Sarah were my fiancée, I’d make damn well sure I was here for her.

Come to think of it, where has this fiancé been during all of this? Working, just like he was the weekend of Finn and Hanna’s wedding, forcing Sarah to travel to New York on her own? Making her sit alone at the reception, surrounded by people she didn’t really know?

That’s not how I’d treat a woman I plan to spend my life with.

But I’m not here to pass judgment on Sarah’s relationship. I’m here to figure out how we can help her. And if her clueless fiancé doesn’t appreciate what he has, there’s not much I can really do about it.

But he should appreciate her. From what I know of Sarah, she’s smart, thoughtful, sensitive, and as a social worker, she’s dedicated her life to helping people. And that’s not even taking into consideration how beautiful she is—with gorgeous eyes that shift from gold to evergreen depending on how the light hits them and shiny bronze hair and sweet curves I spent more time thinking about after the wedding than I should have.

“Dante?” Sarah’s delicate brows arch up in a V. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?”

Jolting, I reply quickly, “I’m fine. You didn’t say anything wrong. Why?”

Shit. Just because I’m irritated at her absentee fiancé isn’t an excuse for losing my focus.

Her worried gaze meets mine. “You just… looked kind of angry. I wasn’t sure if it was something I said?—”

“No, absolutely not.” Before I can stop myself, I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “You didn’t say anything wrong. If I look angry, it’s not at you. It’s the situation you’re in. Okay?”

Sarah worries her lower lip for a second before saying, “Okay.” Her forehead wrinkles in thought. “Am I giving you enough information? Too much? I thought it would be easier to remember everything if I give all the little details, but I’m thinking you might not want to know what I was having for lunch two weeks ago.”

“It’s perfect,” I reassure her. With a slight smile, I add, “And I was interested in hearing about your lunch. It sounds like a great place to get sandwiches.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her smile fades almost as quickly as it appears. “Although I’m not sure I want…” A beat, and then, “Anyway. What was I talking about?”

“When you went to the police station.”

“Oh. Right.” Sarah’s hand trembles under mine, and I instinctively wrap my fingers around hers. She sucks in a tiny breath and I think, oh, shit. Did I just screw up? But then she squeezes my hand back and flashes me a quick, thankful smile.

Holding her hand can be professional. I’m just comforting her. It doesn’t mean anything.

Sarah takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “At first, they just kept trying to get me to admit it. That I stole the car. They had me in a room, and it was like on those shows, with the nice cop and the mean one. The mean one”—she makes quotes with her free hand—“kept telling me how serious the charges could be. Years in prison, fines…”

She pauses, and her little white teeth dig into her full lower lip for a second. “The other one tried to convince me it would be better if I confessed right away, and if I returned the car, they might be able to reduce the charges. But I couldn’t do either of those things, because I didn’t do it.”

I know the basics after calling Quint, one of our contacts with the San Antonio police department, but I want to hear this from Sarah’s perspective. “So what happened?” I ask gently. “Since they let you go, obviously they realized it couldn’t have been you.”

“I had an alibi,” Sarah replies with a tiny lift of her chin. “The day it happened, I was in meetings and appointments all day. There was no possible way I could have gotten to Austin, test driven a car and found a place to stash it, all in the fifteen minutes I had free for lunch that day.”

“Why did they accuse you, then?”

Sarah’s eyes flicker with disappointment, and I realize she thinks I’m asking because I still doubt her. So I quickly explain, “I know you didn’t do it, Sarah. I just want to know why they think you did.”

Her cheeks go pink. “Sorry, Dante. I know you didn’t mean anything… I’ve just had so many people accuse me of lying, I’ve come to expect it.”

“I understand.” I give her hand another reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to apologize. And I don’t think you’re lying. Not even for a second.”

“Thank you.” She swallows hard. “That really means a lot.” There’s a long pause—I’m pretty sure she’s trying not to cry—before Sarah says, “They thought it was me because the person who did it used my license. Or at least, a license they got under my name. But I never lost mine. It’s still in my wallet. The only thing I can think of is somehow this person applied for a renewal? I just don’t know how they did it.”

“We can figure that out,” I assure her. “Matt’s our computer guy, and he can find out anything online. As soon as I update him on your case, he’ll get right to work figuring all this out.”

Sarah flinches—it’s nearly imperceptible, but I see it—and draws her hand away from mine; tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before clasping both her hands in her lap.

Shockingly, my hand feels cold at the loss. And I feel bad mentioning her case, even though that’s what it is, because it seems to have shattered the small connection we had.

But I push that thought to the side— she’s a client, she’s engaged —and move on. “After the police, can you tell me what else happened? Hanna mentioned something about bank accounts? Loans?”

“Right.” Sarah gives me a tight nod. “So. It was two days after that when I tried to withdraw money from my checking account, and the balance was zero.”

And over the next five minutes, I hear just how much worse things got for her.

After she realized her bank account was cleaned out, she called the bank to report it, but got the same reaction as with the credit card companies. All her information on the account was changed, and she couldn’t convince them it was actually her. And when Sarah called the police, they said without the bank’s cooperation, there was nothing they could do.

Thousands of dollars lost, and no matter how many calls Sarah made, no one would agree to help her. Some even called her a liar and a fraud.

Then the same thing happened with her savings account, and more hard-earned money was gone.

When she looked up her credit report, she found two personal loans in her name totalling over thirty-thousand dollars, but she never applied for either of them.

“Nothing’s the same,” Sarah says, frustration evident in her features. “Even my social security number. I went to the social security office and they told me it had been changed. I don’t even know how that’s possible. Don’t you need a birth certificate for that? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Tears well up as she meets my gaze. “I don’t understand, Dante. If it was just my credit cards, or my bank account… but it’s everything . I knew identity theft was a problem, and I always thought I was careful about it. Changing my passwords, two-factor authentication… but this? I just—” Her voice breaks.

Shit. She looks so sad and small and vulnerable, every protective instinct is urging me to do something. Hug her. Rub her shoulders to relieve the tight set of them. Hold her hand again.

But that’s not why I’m here.

So I reply in a low, soothing tone, “I’m so sorry, Sarah. What’s happened to you is awful. But we’ll figure this out. I promise.”

A glimmer of hope lights her eyes. “So you’re going to help me? Take my case?”

“Yes.” Technically, I need to run it by the team once more now that I have all the information, but I’m positive everyone will agree. “We’re going to help you.”

“And I won’t be taking attention away from another client? One who’s in real danger?” Tiny worry lines etch across her forehead. “I mean, I really need help, but if you can help someone who’s been abducted, or they’re being stalked…”

“Sarah.” I can’t help it. I reach out to take her hand again. “We don’t have set criteria for who we help. You’re in a bad spot, and I think we can help. That’s all there is to it.”

A smile curves Sarah’s lips, and some of the strain smooths from her face. “Dante. Oh. That’s just… I’ve felt so trapped. Like I didn’t know what to do.”

“Not anymore.” Returning her smile, I continue, “I’ll talk to the team, talk to Matt, especially, and come up with a plan. And we’ll keep you updated regularly. In the next day or so, when you can get away from work, I’d like you to come to Blade and Arrow to meet everyone. Answer any additional questions that come up.”

She bobs her head. “Of course. What else do you need me to do?”

“Definitely make a list of all your accounts and loans. Matt may have some other information he wants, so I’ll let you know about that once I talk to him.” I pause as something occurs to me. “What about money? With everything going on… we can help if you need.”

Or I can. I’ve got plenty of money saved. The idea of Sarah struggling to pay her bills, to buy food…

“I’m okay for now. I have one account that wasn’t touched—it’s actually in my grandmother’s name and was transferred to me when she passed. And I’m cashing my paychecks now, instead of depositing them. So I think I’m alright.”

But I can see the worry in her gaze, so I tuck the topic away for another time, assuming we don’t get this solved right away. “Okay. Just let me know. And another thing. If you get any calls, if anything strange happens, if the police show up— anything , I want you to call me. Any time.”

“Okay. I can do that.” Sarah shifts closer to me on the couch; close enough to catch the faint scent of strawberries and vanilla. “Is there anything else?”

She actually looks hopeful, and I hate to potentially ruin it, but I bite the bullet and say, “We don’t need it now, but soon… a list of anyone who might be responsible for this. Someone who might have motive to mess with you. I know it’s not pleasant, but we have to consider it.”

She winces, but quickly hides it. “I understand. It makes sense. I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head…” Trailing off, she frowns. “Well.”

My eyebrows raise. “Is there someone?”

“I don’t think so… But Tanner, my ex—he wasn’t thrilled when I broke up with him. I don’t think he was upset so much about me leaving, but I’d been helping him with his student loans. That’s why”—she gestures around the small apartment—“I’m not living in the greatest place. I didn’t have much in savings, and to pay first and last month’s rent…”

“When did you break up?” And why am I irrationally happy about it?

“Six months ago.” Pink touches her cheeks. “He was cheating on me. Since I have to tell you guys everything… That’s why he didn’t come to the wedding. He was with another woman. Things hadn’t been great for a while, but…” Sarah gives a little shrug. “I found out shortly after, and that was it. We were done.”

I’m torn between wanting to track down this Tanner and beat him up for hurting Sarah and being glad she’s not with such a raging asshole.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“No. I didn’t.” There’s a defiant lift to her chin. “I’m glad I found out when I did. And I’m better off without him.”

“You are,” I agree, and I couldn’t mean it more.

Our eyes meet, and there’s this magnetic pull between us. It reminds me of how I felt at the wedding after Finn made a toast to Hanna; when Sarah turned to me with tears in her eyes and said, “I’m so happy for Hanna. I can’t think of anyone who deserves her happily ever after more.”

I felt something for Sarah then, even though I knew it couldn’t go anywhere.

I shouldn’t be considering it now; not given the situation.

Maybe after. Maybe once we get her case solved, and Sarah’s not a client anymore.

Maybe then I’ll ask her out.