Murder She Wrote

36. The Intruder

I mean what kind of bank just loses your money just like that? Every transaction is required an ID or pin verification, it's impossible to let someone else walk away with someone else's money.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting but I've spoke with the person who has handled the closure of this specific account," she returned with papers in her hand. "This is a copy of the letter sent by mail to the bank with clear signature a few days after the pin was given for verification." She handed the papers for me to look at.

I carefully read the letter that addresses the bank, which explained the reason for the closure, the credit card number, and a signature apparently signed by Sierra herself and my own signature as well. I was dumbfounded when I saw how accurate and spot on my signature was. It looked real, and believable. It's so real it had me questioning if I actually signed this off and forgot about it.

There's no way.

I know for a fact Sierra didn't forge my signature either, her writing is way off compared to mine. Even if she tried, she wouldn't be able to make it look this perfect. The date of the letter was written on the bottom before the signature. It was sent 3 days ago. The same day I got fired from my job. I could only think about one person that could of possibly done this. I'm starting to think she was the one who signed my name off before as well and made those ridiculous purchases of lingerie and whatever romantic crap that made me look suspicious of something. She's trying to completely drain my pockets.

"Listen to me, I'm possibly dealing with identity theft. I didn't sign off on any letter. I never received my money," I tried explaining. She just looked at me with squinting eyes almost as if I was a crazed person yelling for no reason. "There's this woman who's been stalking me and ruining me life, she sent this letter to the bank not me!"

"You're holding up the line," I heard someone behind me say.

"Sir the most I can do is transfer you to someone who can handle any security concerns. But for now, we've already closed out the account completely. If I could reverse it believe me I would. Have you tried talking to the police about this?" She asked.

God, this is hopeless it's like speaking to a brick wall.

I huffed angrily, "I feel like you're not even listening to a word I'm saying! Someone stole my money from this bank. You should be able to handle this situation not the police! I need my money!"

"Okay sir I need you to step aside—" a large security man approached me seconds after my outburst. All eyes were on me and I could see the judgement on everyone else's faces. There was no point trying to explain myself to anyone nowadays because to me it seems like they're either against everything I say or they simply don't believe a word I'm saying.

"Don't touch me! I'm leaving!" I said to the security officer who was already dragging me halfway to the exit door. "You guys are completely useless anyways!" I shouted before stepping out.

I stormed out of the bank afterwards, realizing I was running ridiculously late to the divorce conference. The worst part of all is, I don't even have the money or paperwork that I was told to bring. I quickly took out my phone and called Sierra, so I can get a confirmation from her if she was the one who sent the letter or not. I'm hoping she'd say yes because if not, there's a deep hole that's been dug up for me and I don't think there's a way to get out of it.

I got into my car and placed the phone on speaker phone. She answered shortly but started off yelling about me being almost 30 minutes late to the divorce conference. "Sierra, I know I'm late! Just listen to me for a second!" I tried to shut her up so she would understand what I'm about to ask her.