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She didn’t ask herself why.
“Excuse me, are you Emmaline Mendez?”
Emma stopped halfway across the black marble tiled lobby.
A white-haired man in his late fifties or early sixties walked over. He was wearing a tie and gray suit, but it wasn’t nice and fitted like Garrett’s. No, this one screamed cop or insurance salesman.
It turned out she was half-right.
The stranger flashed a badge at her. She had time to register the state seal and Investigator over some other smaller letters before he closed it.
“Ms. Mendez, I’m Richard Folsom. I investigate insurance fraud for the state of California.”
“O-okay.” She moved her tote bag in front of her like a shield. “Why are you here?”
“I came because your file was recently updated, triggering some warning flags.” He pursed his thick lips. “Can you confirm that you’re receiving MediCal for your health insurance needs?”
Emma’s adrenaline started to pump, tightening her chest. “Uh, yes. I am.”
His bushy white brows raised as he gave their surroundings a cursory and contemptuous once-over. “And you live here?”
“Yes, but it’s temporary.”
He ignored that, his nostrils flaring as if he’d smelled something foul. “Ms. Mendez, are you aware thatyouare supposed to report any change in your living situation to the state right away?” he asked, stressing theyou.
Emma frowned. “I…”
There had been something about that in the application her mother had helped her fill out when she moved here. But she couldn’t remember the details.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered.
“The address we have on file for you is on 23rdStreet, is it not?”
She nodded. “That’s my cousin’s place. I had to move out because they didn’t allow pets with his pre-existing condition. But I don’tlivehere in this building. I’m just crashing with a friend… from high school.”
It was the first time Emma had claimed a pre-accident relationship. But the investigator had no way of knowing the significance of the moment. Instead, he scowled, as if she was hesitating because she was lying.
“But itistemporary,” she continued. “I’m just a guest.”
“You’re crashing on this man’s couch?” His bushy eyebrow raised superciliously.
How was it that her mouth wasthisdry? “No, I’m in hisspare room.”
Richard Folsom sighed, looking at her with a mix of disappointment and contempt.
“Ms. Mendez, insurance fraud is a very serious crime. It costs the state of California millions every year. The benefits you collect in addition to your medical coverage come to a sizable sum. If you don’t make restitution, the state has no choice but to prosecute for fraud.”
“What?” Emma sucked in a shaky breath. “Prosecute? But I’m not committing fraud. I was in an accident. I need my health coverage and the benefits. I can only work part-time. I have the medical evaluations to prove it.”
The investigator looked down his nose at her. “The legitimacy of your medical issues is not in question. It’s your ability to pay for your own coverage that is the problem. That will be the case as long as you live here in this luxury building.”
Emma couldn’t believe this was happening. “But I’m not on the lease. I don’t even pay rent.”
Folsom retrieved something from his pocket, a rolled-up magazine. He opened it to a page marked with a sticky note.
“Is this the penthouse that you live in?”
Emma’s head jerked, her mouth dropping open at the glossy spread.