My Daugther woke me before sunrise and said, “Make some coffee and set the table”
«I can see both of them,» I murmured into the microphone hidden in my book jacket. «Marcus is showing her some kind of financial documents.»
«That’s the property management proposal. He’s about to suggest that she needs professional help running her business.»
I watched Marcus lean forward with the same practiced sincerity I’d seen Derek use in my kitchen. Carol was nodding, clearly flattered by his attention and concern for her welfare.
«Patricia, we need you to make contact now. We need you to interrupt before she signs.»
«Carol’s about to sign preliminary documents.»
I closed my book and walked to their table, channeling every ounce of confused elderly woman I could manage.
«Excuse me,» I said to Carol. «Aren’t you Carol Peterson? We met at the Grief Support Group in Salem?»
Carol looked up, clearly confused. «I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.»
«Oh my goodness, you look so much like a woman I met who was dealing with the same situation I went through.» I glanced at Marcus, who was studying me with interest. «A charming man convinced her to let him manage her late husband’s business assets, and it turned out he was stealing everything.»
«I’m sorry,» Marcus said smoothly, «but we’re having a private business meeting.»
«Of course, of course.» I started to turn away, then stopped. «Carol, you said your name was Carol, right? Just be careful about anyone who approaches you with investment advice too soon after a loss. These predators specifically target widows who own valuable property.»
«Ma’am,» Marcus’s voice had an edge now. «You’re interrupting our conversation with inappropriate paranoia.»
«Oh, you’re probably right.» I smiled at him with the sweet confusion of someone easily dismissed. «I’m sure you’re nothing like Derek Castellano.»
Marcus went completely still. «Who?»
«Derek Castellano. He used the same approach. Charming, helpful, very concerned about proper asset management. Of course, he’s in federal prison now for elder fraud.»
Carol was looking back and forth between us. «Marcus, do you know this man she’s talking about?»
«I’ve never heard that name before,» Marcus said, but his eyes never left my face.
«Oh, well, you probably wouldn’t have. It was quite a scandal though. He was part of some criminal network that targeted women with valuable real estate. They’d research your property, your family situation, your psychological profile, then send someone to manipulate you into signing over control of your assets.»
«That sounds terrible,» Carol said, and I could hear the first note of doubt in her voice.
«It was. Poor Eleanor Patterson lost her entire family home, and Jennifer Walsh lost her business.» I looked directly at Marcus. «Though I suppose you’d know more about Jennifer Walsh than I would.»
Marcus stood up abruptly. «Carol, we should continue this conversation elsewhere.»
«Actually,» I said, sitting down in his vacant chair, «I think Carol should hear about the investigation before she signs anything.»
«What investigation?» Carol asked.
«The FBI task force that’s currently tracking at least twelve active operations targeting widows with valuable property. They have quite a sophisticated network, detailed psychological profiles, backup stories, even fake references.»
Marcus was edging away from the table. «Carol, this woman is clearly unstable. I think we should…»
«Sit down, Marcus.» Agent Chen appeared behind him, her badge visible. «FBI Financial Crimes Task Force.»
The arrest went smoothly after that. Marcus had enough outstanding warrants that he couldn’t fight extradition, and the documents in his briefcase provided evidence linking him to at least six other ongoing cases.
«Carol,» I said as Agent Chen led Marcus away, «you should know that you were never in any real danger. We’ve been watching this operation for months.»
«You’re with the FBI?»
«I’m a consultant. Someone who survived the same type of attack you were about to experience.»
Carol stared at the papers Marcus had tried to get her to sign. «I was really going to sign these, wasn’t I?»
«Probably. Marcus is very good at what he does, but now he won’t be doing it anymore.»
That evening, I called Sophia from my hotel room in Portland.
«How did it go, Mom?»
«We prevented another victim and arrested a major player in Derek’s network. I’d call that a successful day.»
«How many does that make now?»
«Fourteen prevented thefts, seven major arrests, and about two million dollars in recovered assets returned to victims.»
«And how many more operations are still active?»
«Too many,» I admitted, «but fewer every month.»
Sophia was quiet for a moment. «Mom, do you ever regret getting involved in all this? You could have just stayed home and let Derek face justice without turning this into your life’s work.»
I thought about Carol Peterson, who would go home tonight to her bed and breakfast instead of signing documents that would have eventually left her homeless. I thought about Eleanor Patterson, whose house had been saved from foreclosure with recovered assets from Derek’s offshore accounts. I thought about the thirty-seven women who were currently living peacefully in their own homes because someone had warned them before it was too late.
«Sophia, do you remember when Derek first suggested I needed help managing my life?»
«Unfortunately, yes.»
«I realized something that day. The world is full of people who assume that women like me are helpless, confused, and grateful for male guidance. Derek was just the criminal version of an attitude that’s everywhere.»
«And now?»
«Now I spend my time proving that we’re not helpless, we’re not confused, and we definitely don’t need guidance from men who see our independence as a problem to be solved. Even when it’s dangerous—especially when it’s dangerous.»
Two days later, I was back home on my deck in Malibu, watching the waves and reading case files for the next operation. Agent Kim was arriving tomorrow to brief me on a new network operating out of Phoenix, and Sophia was driving down from Los Angeles to spend the weekend.
My phone rang, and I recognized the number as Jennifer Walsh.
«Patricia, I wanted to give you an update on the Seattle operation.»
«How did it go?»
«We prevented three more victims and identified a connection to that Miami case you worked last month. This network is even bigger than we originally thought.»
«Good work, Jennifer. How are you holding up?»
«Better than I expected. There’s something satisfying about using Derek’s own methods against his associates.»
After we hung up, I sat in the gathering twilight thinking about the path that had brought me here. A year ago, I’d been a woman enjoying peaceful retirement in her beach house. Now I was a federal consultant who spent her time protecting other women from sophisticated criminals.
Derek had been right about one thing. His arrest hadn’t been the end of anything. It had been the beginning. The beginning of a task force that had become a model for other states, the beginning of partnerships with victim advocacy groups and elder protection agencies, the beginning of congressional hearings about romance fraud and legislative changes to strengthen prosecution tools.
But most importantly, it had been the beginning of something Derek could never have anticipated: a network of women who refused to be victims.
My phone buzzed with a text from Sophia: Mom, just passed the exit for your house. Can’t wait to hear about Portland. Also, Agent Kim called. They want us both for the Phoenix operation. Are you up for another adventure?
I typed back: Always.
As I prepared for bed that night in my house—my safe, secure, protected house that no one would ever take from me—I thought about Derek in his federal prison cell. He’d spent his career assuming that women like me were easy targets, isolated and vulnerable. He’d been wrong about the isolated part too.
Tomorrow, Sophia and I would start planning how to dismantle another criminal network. Next week, Jennifer Walsh and I would testify at a congressional hearing about romance fraud. Next month, I’d train a new group of FBI agents to recognize the psychological manipulation tactics used by relationship predators.
Derek had tried to steal my home. Instead, he’d given me a purpose that was bigger than any house, more valuable than any bank account, and more satisfying than any peaceful retirement could have been.
Sometimes the best revenge isn’t getting even. Sometimes it’s becoming exactly what your enemies never expected you to become. And what Derek had never expected was that this helpless, middle-aged woman would become the kind of person who made sure that criminals like him never succeeded again.
