The Liberation of Alice Love - Abby McDonald [35]
“My data lied!” Alice objected. “Look at all the damage Ella did because people believed my details.”
Nathan paused, looking at her sideways for a moment as if he was itching to disagree. Alice wondered why he was even bothering to show restraint and made a gesture as if to say, “Go on.”
“With you, it wasn’t so much the facts that were wrong; it was the context. What happened—what she bought and claimed and where the money went—that’s all fact. Undeniable. Someone took X amount of money from Y ATM on some specific date. Now, whether or not that was you, it doesn’t really figure. Someone did.”
“I suppose,” Alice agreed, reluctant. Her chances of finding Ella seemed slimmer by the day; Nathan might be her only hope left.
“I better be going now.” Nathan got up, extending his hand with mock formality. “Good seeing you again, Ms. Love.”
She shook his hand. “You too.”
“And remind Flora to call about those statues…” With a last casual joke, he left.
Alice watched him walk away, wondering for a moment how different things would be now if she’d said yes, if she’d gone to Paris with him on that whim. Would it have become something real and thrilling or just faded away—a brief spark swiftly extinguished by the reality of his snoring and her need for an ergonomic pillow? He seemed so unaffected by her now.
She’d done the right thing, Alice decided, slipping into the crowd and making her way slowly back toward Cassie’s. She wasn’t designed for foolish spontaneity any more than she was meant for this listless wallowing she’d been caught up in recently. Enough of mourning Ella’s betrayals, Alice decided firmly. She was gone.
It was time to pull her life back together.
Chapter Nine
Moving on, however, proved something of a challenge for Alice when there were still credit agents harassing her daily and the bank to contend with. As Nathan predicted, it only took the words “known to the victim” for the bank to abandon its helpful reassurances and become a cold, unsympathetic foe. To read the official rejection of her claims made it sound as if she were some kind of financial harlot, wantonly waving her PIN number around for anyone to see and practically forcing her security answers on any new acquaintance. Alice half expected to find her file marked “Asking for It” in some secret internal memo.
The debt collectors weren’t quite so polite.
“No, you’re not listening,” she tried again, as the man on the other end of the line at Cash4U began another ominous rant about the dire consequences that would ensue if she didn’t make an immediate payment. It was first thing in the morning, and she hadn’t even climbed out of bed before her phone began to ring. “I’ve been a victim of identity fraud. There will be no payments while the police investigate.”
She had the speech learned by heart. Stefan had recommended it, to keep her from getting frustrated or overemotional—as he had kindly put it. He was right. Even now, on what must be her twentieth call, Alice found herself faltering at the grim threat in the man’s voice.
“If you keep defaulting on your loan, we’ll have to resort to more drastic action. We have your address on file, Alice.”
She shivered, giving brief thanks that she didn’t live there anymore. Then Alice realized she was going to have to get in touch with her old landlord, to warn him that bailiffs might soon be showing up on the new tenants’ doorstep.
“We’ll be applying for copies of the loan contract,” Alice pressed on. “My legal representative will be in touch. It really wasn’t me,” she added.
The man was unimpressed. “All our debtors go through multiple antifraud checks.”
“I know,” Alice apologized. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry won’t get you anywhere. If you think you can just weasel out of—”
Alice gulped. “I appreciate your patience and understanding,” she parroted quickly. “Good-bye!”
She sat a moment, the phone still gripped tightly in her hands. She was going to need a new number if this kept up or maybe even a sparkling