Chapter 7: Brenda's Confession
Robert called it the crack in the wall.
Diane's written statement arrived at his office by email that same afternoon.
She described the woman who had presented my ID on October 9th: medium height, dark hair pulled back, wearing a gray jacket.
She had seemed nervous.
She had signed quickly and left without making eye contact.
That description did not fit me.
It fit Brenda.
Robert filed Diane's statement with the county and forwarded a copy to the Franklin County Sheriff's Office detective who had been assigned to the fraud case.
The detective's name was Carla Marsh.
She called me the following morning.
"Mrs.
Foster, I'd like to meet with you today if possible.
We're moving quickly on this."
We met at a coffee shop near her precinct.
She was direct, unhurried, and she took notes by hand in a small spiral notebook.
"The notary has been contacted," she told me.
"Mr.
Sears is cooperating.
He has confirmed that the woman who presented identification on October 9th was not you." She looked up from her notebook.
"He also confirmed that the appointment was made by phone, three days in advance, by a man who gave the name Brandon Palmer."
I put my cup down.
"Brandon made the appointment."
"Yes." She paused.
"Mrs.
Foster, we'd like to bring your sister-in-law in for a voluntary interview.
Before we do that, I want to ask — is there any reason Brenda Palmer would have agreed to impersonate you?"
I thought about Brenda crying in my living room.
Toby clutching his backpack.
The story about Jason wanting to take her son.
"She needed something," I said.
"She always needed something.
And Brandon and his mother always gave it to her, as long as she gave them what they wanted in return."
Detective Marsh wrote something down.
"We'll be in touch."
Brenda called me that evening.
I almost didn't answer.
Then I thought about Diane's statement, and Robert's voice saying *scared people make mistakes*, and I picked up.
"Rebecca." Her voice was unsteady.
"I need to talk to you."
"I'm listening."
"I didn't — I want you to know that I didn't think it would go this far.
Brandon told me it was just a formality.
That you had already agreed to it and just hadn't gotten around to signing.
He said you were busy with the shop and he just needed it done."
"And you believed that."
"I—" A long pause.
"I needed him to help me with Jason.
The custody case.
Brandon said he knew a lawyer who could help, but only if I did this one thing first." Her voice broke slightly.
"I used your ID.
I'm sorry.
I know that doesn't—"
"Brenda." I kept my voice even.
"The police are going to contact you.
When they do, tell them exactly what you just told me.
Every detail.
Who asked you.
What he promised.
What you did."
Silence.
"If you don't," I said, "you will be the only one who faces consequences for this.
Brandon will say he knew nothing about it.
His mother will say the same.
And you will be alone with it."
Another silence.
Longer.
"He told me you'd never find out," she said quietly.
"He was wrong."
I ended the call and immediately texted Robert: *Brenda just confessed by phone.
She said Brandon told her I had already agreed.
She used my ID.
She's going to cooperate.*
He replied in under a minute: *Save everything.
Do not delete.
I'll call Marsh in the morning.*
I sat in Carol's spare room with my phone in my lap.
Through the wall I could hear Hannah watching something on her laptop, the faint sound of voices and music.
Brandon had used his own sister.
He had dangled her son's custody case over her head and handed her a crime to commit.
I had lived with this man for eighteen years.
May you like
I thought I knew what the worst of him looked like.
I had been wrong about that too.
