Marcia, California
A call from her personal credit-card company in February 2008 informed Marcia — a disabled senior — that someone had attempted to cash one of her Chase Manhattan convenience checks at a nearby store for $600 that morning, signing it with Marcia's' name. The transaction had been denied, as it went over the company's $500 limit. Chase promptly cancelled the account. Not having left her house that morning and never having used a convenience check, Marcia deduced that the perpetrator was her live-in employee, whom we shall call Elaine. During her three years with Marcia, Elaine had had unlimited access to Marcia's documents and mail. She also complained continually of financial woes and debt, appealing to Marcia's liberal sympathies by saying that her own devoutly Catholic family had disowned her when she came out as a lesbian.
Already fragile, now overwhelmed by a sense of betrayal, Marcia couldn't bring herself to confront Elaine about the crime, much less fire her or call the police. So Elaine stayed ... until Marcia's daughter and son-and-law flew (against Marcia's will) to Los Angeles from the Bay Area and fired Elaine - who neither admitted her guilt nor claimed innocence. Elaine spent that afternoon removing her belongings from the house. Among these were stacks of unpaid bills, pawn tickets, and frequent-visitor photo-ID cards from local casinos: clues to financial troubles and an expensive habit. When Elaine lamented that she had nowhere to store her things, Marcia's son-in-law gave her a list of three nearby storage-rental companies. She took it and thanked him, then drove off.
Marcia's daughter promptly contacted law enforcement. Sheriff's deputies arrived and interviewed Marcia. A new helper was hired. But more trouble was to come. Weeks later, Chase called Marcia again to say that over $5,000 in charges had been made in the past month on a new card that had been taken out on her account, in her name. Forging Marcia's signature, someone had used this card at a hair salon, a car-repair company, the local Hustler casino ... and one of the three storage-rental places on the list that Marcia's son-in-law had given Elaine. Chase chose not to prosecute.
Elaine had been working part-time at a nearby 7-11 for years and continued working there throughout all this. The sheriff's investigation stalled — even after deputies learned of the new charges and even after Marcia had identified Elaine in a photo lineup they showed her. With every passing week, the fraud wounded Marcia deeper as she stayed up nights peering out her windows, fearing visits by an armed and furious Elaine. Ultimately, Marcia blames herself for the fraud, telling everyone, “This kind of thing only happens to stupid feeble losers.”
The coming months brought more revelations: calls from two more credit-card companies revealing another $4,000 in fraudulent charges, some in the name of Marcia's new employee, who had been hired to replace Elaine. This time, a caller claiming to be Marcia's granddaughter had ordered — and obtained a Discover card on Marcia's account. (Marcia has no granddaughters.) In July 2008, MasterCard revealed that Marcia's business credit card had also been used to make purchases online from Toys R Us, Vistaprint, Lane Bryant, and other companies. Investigations are pending, but the psychological and emotional damage might never heal.
