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My credit card company called about a $500 purchase at a pharmacy three towns over. "There were three attempts," she said. "First at the pharmacy, then a hardware store for $350, and finally a gun shop for $1,200." The pattern was deliberate, escalating.
I checked my wallet - my card was still there, somehow duplicated.
That night, I noticed a white sedan parked across from my apartment with someone watching my building. When I grabbed my phone to take a picture, the car's lights flashed on and it sped away.
The next day, I got a text from a number I didn't recognize: "Thanks for the help, pal. We're even now." When I replied asking who it was, they responded: "Wrong number. Sorry." Minutes later, my sister called in a panic - someone had tried to use my name to access her home security system, claiming to be doing maintenance.
My neighbor mentioned police had been asking questions about drug activity. "They showed a picture of someone," she said. "Looked kind of like you, actually. They seemed really interested in the basement storage areas."
I immediately checked my storage unit - the lock had been tampered with, though nothing seemed missing. I called the building manager who revealed someone claiming to be my "cousin" had asked about accessing my unit last week.
Two days later, Detective Mercer contacted me. At the station, I was escorted to a room typically used for suspects. A DEA agent named Rodriguez sat in the corner with a file bearing my name.
"We have a situation," Mercer began, spreading photos across the table - security footage from six different locations showing someone who looked remarkably like me. "This individual has been connected to transactions tied to methamphetamine production."
She slid another photo forward - my driver's license, but with subtle alterations. "This was used at three different chemical supply companies."
Then she showed me a rental agreement for a storage unit with my forged signature. The unit was in an industrial area I'd never visited.
"We searched that unit this morning," Rodriguez said, opening a laptop to show me photos. "Found precursor chemicals, manufacturing equipment, and $30,000 in cash. There was also this." He showed me a calendar with my work schedule accurately noted, alongside circled dates labeled "drop points."
The security footage showed someone my height, build, even wearing similar glasses. He'd kept his face angled away from cameras, but his mannerisms - the way he checked his watch - were disturbingly similar to mine.
"When was the last time your wallet was out of your possession?" Rodriguez asked, sliding a photo of my gym across the table.
I remembered my wallet disappearing at the gym last month for about an hour. A maintenance guy had been unusually friendly, always working near my locker. And my neighbor's son Tyler had suddenly started using the same gym despite living closer to a different location.
"Tyler Jenkins?" Rodriguez asked. "Drives a white Sedan?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"We've been monitoring Tyler for months," Mercer explained. "He's connected to a distribution network. We've never caught him with anything substantial because he always has someone else holding or transporting."
They pulled up Tyler's photo. Our builds, height, and general appearance were similar enough that with the right clothes and angle, security cameras would show a match.
"The operation is sophisticated," Rodriguez explained. "They find someone who physically resembles a member of their network, build a paper trail connecting that person to their activities, then abandon everything when heat comes down - leaving the innocent person to face investigation."
They checked my phone's location data while Rodriguez explained they'd found a lab with a wall covered in photos of me - my routine, apartment, workplace. They'd even made notes about my regular coffee order and which grocery store I frequented.
The detective explained that someone had meticulously photographed all my ID, made copies of my cards, and even took photos of my gym membership before returning the wallet. They'd been establishing a paper trail for weeks.
The only reason I wasn't arrested was because my phone GPS history proved I was at work during the pharmacy transaction. The investigation revealed my neighbor's son was involved in a drug ring and had targeted me specifically because our builds were similar.
If my card hadn't been declined on that pharmacy purchase, the police would have shown up at my door with a warrant instead of questions.