Linda at Marcus and Ashley’s anniversary dinner. Linda at their Labor Day barbecue. Linda at Ashley’s birthday party. In every single photo, she was positioned between Marcus and Ashley, like she belonged there more than I did.
But it was the older photos that made my blood run cold. Pictures of documents. Screenshots of bank statements. Photos of the inside of my house. My bedroom. My home office. Areas where a guest had no business being.
The timestamps showed she’d been documenting things for months, long before her relationship with our family had become so cozy. My hands were shaking now as I scrolled further back. There it was. A photo of Tom’s death certificate. Another of our marriage license.
Screenshots of property records showing the value of our house. And a photo that made my stomach drop. My social security card, which I kept in my jewelry box upstairs.
Linda Chen wasn’t just a lonely widow looking for family. She was conducting surveillance. The question was why, and more importantly, what was she planning to do with all this information?
The grandfather clock chimed seven times, and I realized they’d been gone for over two hours. A tour of the neighborhood shouldn’t take that long, even with stops to show off a new car. My phone sat silent on the nightstand, with no calls or texts from Marcus letting me know where they were or when they might return Linda’s purse.
I carefully repacked everything exactly as I’d found it, but not before taking photos of her bank statements and the more interesting documents with my own phone. If Linda was playing games, then she’d just taught me the rules.
The BMW’s engine announced their return, and I heard Ashley’s laughter floating through the winter air. I positioned myself in the kitchen, Linda’s purse in hand, ready to play the concerned mother who’d discovered their oversight.
But as I watched Linda through the window, studying her face as she walked toward my door, I noticed something I’d missed before. The way she moved, the way she surveyed my property, the calculating look in her eyes as she approached. This wasn’t a woman who’d carelessly forgotten her purse. This was a woman who’d left it behind on purpose.
«Oh my goodness, Dot, thank you so much for keeping my purse safe,» Linda gushed as I handed it over, her performance Oscar-worthy. «I can’t believe I forgot it. I must be getting old.»
She laughed that tinkling laugh that had charmed Marcus from day one, but now it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. «No problem at all,» I replied, watching her carefully check the contents.
Her fingers moved quickly through the wallet, and I caught the almost imperceptible relief that flashed across her face when she confirmed everything was still there. «I hope you enjoyed showing off your beautiful gift.»
«Oh, we did. Marcus is such a thoughtful boy. You raised him well.» The way she emphasized «boy» when talking about my 35-year-old son made my skin crawl. «Ashley and I stopped by my house so I could show the car to my neighbors. They’re all so jealous.»
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Marcus appeared behind her, already reaching for his coat. «Well, Mom, we should get going. Work tomorrow, you know how it is.»
Three hours ago, he’d been beaming about his generous gift to Linda. Now he was treating our family Christmas like an obligation to check off his list.
«Actually, Marcus, before you go,» I said, my voice sweet as pie, «I got a call from the state police. Something about Linda being reported missing?»
The color drained from Linda’s face. «Missing? But that’s ridiculous. I’m obviously not missing.»
«That’s what I told Officer Patterson. Apparently, your son filed a report.» I watched Linda’s composure crack for just a moment. «He must be worried sick about you.»
«My son?» Linda’s voice pitched higher. «Oh, well, yes. Brian can be overprotective. Ever since his father died,» she waved her hand dismissively. «I should call him and explain.»
«You have a son?» Ashley looked genuinely surprised. «Linda, you never mentioned having children.»
The silence stretched uncomfortably. Linda’s eyes darted between all of us, clearly calculating her next move. «Well, we’re not very close. He lives in Seattle. Different lives, you know how it is.»
But I knew better now. Those text messages had been desperate, loving, concerned. That wasn’t the communication pattern of a distant relationship. Linda had been lying to us about being alone in the world, just like she’d been lying about so many other things.
«How wonderful that you have family,» I said, still smiling. «And they care enough to worry when you don’t come home. That’s precious.»
Marcus shifted uncomfortably. «Mom, we really need to get going. Early morning tomorrow?»
«Of course, sweetheart. Drive safely. Linda, I do hope your son stops worrying once you call him back.»
I watched through the window as they walked to their cars. Linda moved quickly, already dialing her phone before she reached the BMW. Marcus and Ashley followed more slowly, and I could see them talking, probably about Linda’s mysterious family revelation.
As soon as their taillights disappeared, I went to my computer. Brian Chen, Seattle. It took me exactly 15 minutes to find him on social media, and what I discovered made everything click into place.
Brian Chen wasn’t just Linda’s son. He was a successful attorney, specializing in elder law and estate planning. His Facebook page was full of photos with his mother, recent photos showing a close, loving relationship—photos at family dinners, birthday celebrations, holidays.
This wasn’t a distant, estranged son. This was a devoted child who spoke to his mother regularly and spent holidays with her. So why was Linda pretending to be alone? Why was she inserting herself into our family when she clearly had one of her own?
I kept digging. Linda’s social media presence was minimal, but Brian’s was open, and his mother appeared frequently in his posts. «Mom’s visiting again next month,» from October. «Family dinner with mom and the kids,» from September. «Mom’s advice about the Peterson case saved the day.»
From August, the Peterson case. I googled it on impulse and found myself reading about a complex elder fraud investigation that Brian Chen had worked on. An elderly woman had been systematically defrauded by people she trusted, people who had gained access to her finances through emotional manipulation.
My hands went cold. I printed the article, along with several others about Brian’s work. Elder fraud prevention. Financial abuse awareness. Protecting seniors from family members and friends who exploit their trust.
Either this was the most incredible coincidence in history, or Linda Chen was running a very sophisticated long-term con, and my son had just bought her a $60,000 car with money I was starting to suspect he didn’t actually have.
I called Marcus’s cell phone. It went straight to voicemail, so I tried the house. Ashley answered, her voice tight with irritation. «Hi, Dot. Marcus is in the shower.»
«That’s fine, dear. I just wanted to ask him something about his finances. You know, with the expensive gift and all, I’m curious how you two are managing such generosity.»
The pause was too long. «What do you mean?»
«Well, a BMW isn’t exactly pocket change. I’m just impressed that you’ve both done so well for yourselves.» I kept my voice light. Curious. Grandmotherly.
«We’re doing fine, Dot. Marcus got a promotion at work.»
«How wonderful! When did that happen? He hadn’t mentioned it.»
Another pause. «Recently. Look, I should let you go. Marcus needs help with something.»
She hung up before I could ask another question, but she told me everything I needed to know. People who are legitimately doing well financially don’t get defensive when asked about their success. They brag about it.
I sat in Tom’s chair, looking at my $3 piggy bank and thinking about $60,000 worth of car sitting in Linda’s driveway. Then I thought about those bank statements in her purse, her son the elder fraud attorney, and the surveillance photos she’d taken of my personal documents.
Something was very wrong with this picture, and I was starting to suspect that I wasn’t the only victim in Linda Chen’s game. The question was whether Marcus and Ashley were players or pawns. Either way, tomorrow I was going to start finding out exactly what Linda Chen was really after. And if my instincts were right, Christmas was about to become very interesting indeed.
I didn’t sleep much that night. Instead, I sat at my kitchen table with a pot of coffee and every piece of information I could find about Linda Chen. Brian Chen, and something that was becoming clear, wasn’t adding up. By sunrise, I had a plan that would have made Tom proud.
My first call was to Brian Chen’s law office in Seattle. I used my sweetest grandmother voice when his secretary answered, «Hello dear, this is Dorothy Williams from Virginia. I’m calling about Brian’s mother, Linda. There was a little incident yesterday, and I want to make sure she’s all right.»
«Oh, you must be the family friend she’s been visiting. Mr. Chen was so worried yesterday when his mother didn’t answer her phone. Is she okay?»
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Family friend. Interesting choice of words. «Yes, she’s fine now. But I’m curious. How long has Linda been staying in Virginia? Brian must miss her terribly.»
«Oh, it’s been several months now. Since September, I think. He calls her every day. Such a devoted son. He was planning to visit for Christmas, but Linda insisted she wanted to spend the holidays with her new friends there.»
September. Linda had been in Virginia since September, which meant she’d been planning whatever this was for four months. And she’d deliberately kept her son away for Christmas so he wouldn’t interfere with her operation.
«Well, she’s certainly become part of our family here. My son even bought her a car yesterday.»
The silence on the other end was deafening. «I’m sorry… Did you say your son bought her a car?»
«A beautiful BMW. $60,000. He’s so generous.»
«Mrs. Williams, I think there might be some confusion. Linda has her own car and her own money. She wouldn’t need anyone to buy her anything. She’s quite well-off financially.»
I let that sit for a moment. «Oh, my. Well, perhaps I misunderstood. You know how it is with us older folks.»
After I hung up, I poured another cup of coffee and stared out at my winter garden. Linda Chen was wealthy, had a devoted son, and owned her own car. So why was she letting my son spend $60,000 on another one? And why was she pretending to be alone?
My phone rang, and Marcus’s name appeared on the screen. Finally. «Mom. We need to talk.»
«Good morning to you, too, sweetheart. How did you sleep?»
«Mom. Seriously. Ashley and I are coming over. We’ll be there in an hour.»
The tone was all wrong. This wasn’t a social visit. This was an intervention, which meant Linda had already gotten to them. I spent the next hour preparing for battle.
They arrived looking like they’d dressed for a funeral. Marcus wore his serious business suit, and Ashley had on her «handling-difficult-clients» outfit. They sat across from me at my kitchen table, like a tribunal.
«Mom,» Marcus began, his voice carefully controlled. «Linda is very upset. She feels like you violated her privacy yesterday.»
I raised an eyebrow. «Raised? By keeping her purse safe? I’m afraid I don’t understand.»
«She thinks you went through her things.»
«Well, of course I did. What if something had fallen out? What if she’d had medication that needed to be refrigerated? I was being responsible.»
Ashley leaned forward. «Dot. Linda feels uncomfortable about some of the questions you asked last night. About her son. About her finances.»
«I was making conversation. I thought it was wonderful that she has family who care about her.»
Marcus’s jaw tightened. «The thing is, Mom, Linda’s been through a lot. Her relationship with her son is complicated, and she doesn’t like to talk about it.»
Complicated. That wasn’t how Brian’s secretary had described their daily phone calls and family dinners. «I see. And the police call? Was that complicated too?»
They exchanged looks. Ashley spoke carefully. «Linda explained that her son has some control issues. He gets anxious when he doesn’t know where she is. It’s actually part of why she needed to get away from Seattle.»
Control issues. I almost laughed at the audacity. They were rewriting the narrative in real time, turning a concerned son into a controlling monster to explain away yesterday’s inconvenient phone call.
«How awful for her,» I said sympathetically. «It must be so hard to have family who care too much.»
Marcus missed the sarcasm entirely. «Exactly. That’s why what you did was so hurtful. She trusted us with her privacy, and then you started interrogating her about her personal life.»
«Marcus. I asked where her son lived. That’s hardly an interrogation.»
«Mom. The point is, Linda is family now. She’s been like a mother to us, especially after Dad died. She’s been there for us in ways that…»
He stopped himself, but the damage was done. «In ways that what, Marcus? In ways that I haven’t been?»
Ashley jumped in quickly. «That’s not what he meant.»
«No, I think it’s exactly what he meant. Linda has been ‘like a mother’ to you. The kind of mother who deserves a $60,000 BMW, unlike your actual mother who deserves $3 in a piggy bank.»
