Chapter 4: Gary Fitch
I was at Detective Hale's office by eight the next morning.
He already had a file on his desk when I walked in.
He tapped it before I could sit down.
"Gary Fitch.
Forty-three years old.
Two prior fraud investigations — one in Memphis, one in Knoxville.
Neither resulted in charges because the victims withdrew their complaints." He looked at me steadily.
"Do you know why people withdraw complaints in cases like this?"
"They were pressured."
"Or paid.
Sometimes both." He opened the file.
"Fitch has a pattern.
He targets homeowners with a family member on the inside.
Someone who can provide access, timing, and personal information.
In your case, that person was Teresa."
I sat with that for a moment.
"She gave him my information."
"Your full legal name, your mortgage account number, your work schedule, and the days Amy would be alone in the house." He turned a page.
"The notary who called you last night — Daniel Reeves — has agreed to make a formal statement.
He's willing to testify that he was misled about the identity verification."
"What about the signature?
Who actually signed my name?"
"We believe it was Fitch himself.
We're having a handwriting analyst compare it to your known signatures from your mortgage origination documents." He closed the file.
"Mr.
Bradley, I want to be direct with you.
This is a strong case.
But it takes time.
In the meantime, the property transfer is frozen pending investigation.
Your home is not going anywhere."
I exhaled slowly.
"And Teresa?"
"She was released this morning on her own recognizance.
She has a hearing in three weeks."
I stood up.
"She'll try to contact Amy."
"I'd recommend you document any contact she makes.
Every call, every message, every visit.
Don't engage.
Just record."
I nodded and picked up my jacket.
"One more thing," Hale said.
"Mason — your cousin.
He's cooperating.
He says he didn't know what was in the folder.
Teresa told him it was insurance documents and asked him to keep it safe during the party."
"Do you believe him?"
Hale considered that.
"I believe he's scared enough to tell the truth."
---
I called my attorney, a man named Paul Garrett, from the parking lot.
I'd used him twice before — once for a contract dispute at work, once when we bought the house.
He picked up on the second ring.
"I saw the news alert this morning," he said.
"Are you all right?"
"I need to know how fast we can move to have that transfer formally invalidated."
"If the notary is cooperating and the handwriting analysis comes back clean, we can file an emergency motion within the week.
The court will likely grant a temporary injunction automatically given the fraud indicators." A pause.
"Connor, who else had access to your mortgage documents?
Original copies?"
I thought about it.
"Teresa.
I gave her a copy of everything when we bought the house.
She said she wanted to keep records in case anything happened to me."
Paul was quiet for a moment.
"She's had those documents for how long?"
"Three years."
"All right." His voice shifted into something more careful.
"I need you to pull every financial account you have — checking, savings, the home equity line — and check for any activity you didn't authorize.
Do it today.
Not tomorrow."
I was already walking back to my car.
"I'll call you in an hour," I said.
---
Amy was at the kitchen table with Frederick when I got home.
She had the laptop open and a notepad beside it.
She looked up when I came in.
"I've been going through the bank statements," she said.
"The ones I can access online."
"And?"
She turned the laptop toward me.
The home equity line of credit had a balance.
It had been zero when I last checked it in January.
Now it showed forty-one thousand dollars drawn against it.
I pulled out a chair and sat down.
"When?" I said.
"The first draw was in February.
Then March.
Then two more in April." She pointed to the dates.
"All on days you were traveling for work."
I stared at the screen.
Forty-one thousand dollars.
Gone in four withdrawals.
Each one timed to a day I was out of Nashville.
"She knew your travel schedule," Amy said quietly.
"She always did.
I told her everything." I pushed back from the table.
"I told her everything."
My phone rang.
May you like
I looked at the screen.
It was Teresa.
