Free Killer Keepsakes by Jane K. Cleland Page B

alive. “She’d have a Social Security number whether she had a job or not. Everyone does . . . just like you have to file tax forms whether you owe money or not. You need it for health insurance, too, right?”
    I nodded. “I guess, but isn’t it possible that she lost her original card and just signed up for a new one? That must happen all the time,” I remarked.
    “This one wasn’t issued as a replacement—it’s new . Why?”
    I looked into his eyes, trying to understand why he seemed so excited. Is he saying she’s engaged in some sort of scam? I asked myself, shocked that he could even think such a thing about Gretchen. Don’t waste time on pointless indignation, I warned myself. Think objectively. How could it work?
    Wes watched me think, his expressive eyes alerting me that he thought he had the answer.
    How could I use a new Social Security card to get money? Credit card fraud, I thought all at once. With a fake Social Security number, I could build a new credit history, get lots of credit lines and personal loans—and use it all. I’d run up huge tabs, then ditch the identity, running out on the bills.
    Although my idea fit the facts, I just didn’t believe it. Gretchen’s not a crook.
    “Have you checked her finances?” I asked, knowing that if he’d done so, a fraud like the one I’d imagined might have surfaced.
    “Always. It’s mind-blowing how often money—or the lack of it—figures into crimes. In this case, there’s nothing there. She pays her bills on time, has no debt except for her mortgage, and has decent savings.”
    “Any unusual purchasing patterns?” I asked, enormously relieved to hear that my instinct about Gretchen was right on.
    “You’re thinking credit card fraud, am I right?” Wes asked.
    I shrugged, unwilling to acknowledge that I’d had such a thought.
    “ ’Cause there’s no sign of it. No unsecured loans, no credit lines, no multiple credit cards with huge amounts of cash available. Nada. Plus, she doesn’t charge a lot—a few dinners out a month, some clothes, gas, groceries—and she pays in full every month.”
    I nodded, not surprised. “What do you think it means?” I asked, not wanting to hear his thoughts but wanting to know.
    “She’s on the run,” he said. “I figure she jumped bail. I’m checking with bounty hunters now.”
    “That’s crazy!” I protested, shaking my head. “Gretchen is no criminal.”
    “Maybe you just don’t know her as well as you think you do.”
    I stared at him, stunned. No way! I thought, reacting emotionally, then felt vindicated as I realized that his miserable speculation couldn’t be true—objectively. “It’s not possible, Wes. My insurance company conducts background checks on all employees. If Gretchen had a criminal record, she wouldn’t have passed.”
    “There’s got to be a catch,” he said, sounding displeased that she might have a stellar record after all.
    “Oh, my God!” I exclaimed, suddenly realizing the flaw in my reasoning. My heart plummeted. “She passed with her new number. The insurance company wasn’t checking how long the Social Security number had been in force, just that there were no wants or warrants associated with it.”
    “Got ya!” Wes responded, energized again. “If she’s on the run, no way would she have been okayed under her original Social Security number. Which is why she had to get a new one.”
    I stared out over the ocean and considered Wes’s idea on its merits. Gray-white clouds streaked from west to east, propelled by a fast-moving wind. To the south, clouds were static and thickening.
    Could Gretchen really have a criminal past? I wondered. Then I remembered one additional fact, and the depression that had begun to weigh on me began to lift. I looked up and met his eyes.
    “They do a fingerprint check, too,” I told him. “If her prints were on file, they would have found the record. A new Social Security number wouldn’t have protected