Chapter 12 - The Interview Tasha Took
Tasha did not physically impersonate Malcolm.
The truth was stranger.
Fenwick Energy had contacted Malcolm through a recruiter after Marcus Hale recommended him.
The initial screening had been designed as an asynchronous questionnaire followed by a phone conversation.
Tasha completed the questionnaire.
She used Malcolm’s résumé, copied answers from his old interview notes and submitted written responses under his name.
Then the recruiter asked to schedule a fifteen-minute phone call.
Tasha created an excuse.
Malcolm was traveling.
Could the conversation be moved to email?
The recruiter accommodated him.
Two more rounds followed remotely.
One included a case analysis.
Tasha found a similar analysis in Malcolm’s files, adapted his work and submitted it.
By the time Fenwick requested a live video interview, the hiring manager was already impressed.
Tasha withdrew.
But before withdrawing, she had clicked through an electronic preliminary acceptance page intended only to acknowledge salary expectations.
She claimed she misunderstood it.
Malcolm did not believe her.
He sat across from Tasha in a private conference room Andre had access to through his office building.
Neutral ground.
No apartment.
No bedrooms.
No shared memories hanging on walls.
Tasha slid the Fenwick documents across the table.
“I never accepted the final offer.”
“It says accepted electronically.”
“That was the compensation acknowledgement.”
“You used my name.”
“Yes.”
“You answered interview questions as me.”
“Written questions.”
“You understand that does not help.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to know whether they were serious.”
Malcolm stared.
“So you tested whether I could get the job before deciding whether I was allowed to know about it.”
Tasha cried quietly.
“Yes.”
“What happened when you realized they were serious?”
“I panicked.”
“And rejected it.”
“Yes.”
Malcolm looked at the salary.
One hundred twelve thousand dollars.
At the time, he had earned seventy-one.
He had been worried about medical bills after his mother’s death.
He had delayed replacing his failing car.
He and Tasha had argued about money.
All while a company had been willing to pay him forty thousand dollars more.
“You watched me stress about money.”
“I know.”
“You told me we couldn’t afford a vacation.”
“We couldn’t.”
“Because you decided I couldn’t make more.”
“That isn’t fair.”
Malcolm’s eyes hardened.
“Do you hear yourself?”
Tasha looked down.
He pushed the document back.
“Did Fenwick ever discover it wasn’t me?”
“No.”
“Did Marcus?”
“I don’t know.”
Malcolm called him.
Marcus Hale answered on the fourth ring.
“Malcolm! Been a while.”
“Yeah.”
“You doing okay?”
“I need to ask you something.”
Malcolm explained carefully.
Marcus became silent.
“When Fenwick told me you turned them down,” he finally said, “I figured Houston wasn’t right for you.”
“I never knew about it.”
“Damn.”
“Did you ever speak to anybody claiming to be me?”
“No.”
“Did they say I interviewed?”
“They said you were unusually private but strong on the case materials.”
Malcolm closed his eyes.
Marcus’s voice hardened.
“Who did this?”
“Someone close to me.”
“I’m sorry, son.”
The word nearly broke him.
Marcus continued.
“For what it’s worth, I recommended you because you were ready.”
Malcolm swallowed.
“Thank you.”
“You still are.”
After the call, Tasha whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Malcolm looked at her.
“You stole something I didn’t even know to grieve.”
She covered her mouth.
“That might be the worst part.”
“I know.”
“No. You keep saying that.”
He leaned forward.
“You knew facts. You did not know consequences.”
Tasha lowered her hands.
“What do you want me to do?”
“For once? Nothing.”
She stared.
“I mean it. Stop fixing. Stop managing. Stop moving money. Stop contacting people. Stop deciding what will make this easier.”
“But I need to make it right.”
“You can’t.”
Her face collapsed.
Malcolm continued more softly.
“You can return money. You can cooperate with the lease. You can give me access records. You can tell the truth. Those things matter.”
“But us?”
“I don’t know.”
Tasha looked away.
“I started therapy.”
Malcolm said nothing.
“I found someone yesterday.”
“Good.”
“That’s all?”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You still want my reaction to make your next decision for you.”
Tasha sat back.
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe.”
A long silence followed.
Then Malcolm noticed another page in the Fenwick package.
A contact-information sheet.
Emergency contact:
Denise Reed.
His mother.
Malcolm frowned.
“Why is Mom listed?”
Tasha froze.
“When did this happen?”
“Before she got sick.”
“No.”
He checked the date.
Eight months before his mother’s diagnosis.
“You used her information.”
“I thought it made the application look normal.”
“Did Fenwick contact her?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think?”
“I never saw anything.”
Malcolm pulled out his phone and called Andre.
“Do you still have Mom’s old phone?”
Andre paused.
“Yeah. In a drawer. Why?”
“Charge it.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Fenwick.”
That evening, they powered on Denise Reed’s old phone.
Most accounts no longer worked.
But text messages remained stored locally.
Andre searched.
Fenwick.
One result.
An automated text:
Hello Denise. Malcolm Reed listed you as his emergency contact during our onboarding process.
Malcolm stared.
Below it was his mother’s reply to the automated number.
So proud of my son.
Four words.
She had believed he got the job.
Malcolm’s throat closed.
Andre looked stunned.
“She thought you accepted Houston.”
Malcolm searched later messages.
Three days after the automated text, Denise had written directly to Malcolm:
Proud of you always. Just don’t forget family when life gets big.
At the time Malcolm had replied with laughing emojis because he had no idea what she meant.
Now he understood.
Tasha had not only made his mother afraid he might leave.
For several days, she had allowed Denise to believe he already had.
And Malcolm suddenly wondered whether Tasha’s lies had shaped one of the final major disagreements between him and his mother.
He looked at Andre.
“Search everything.”
Andre nodded.
They did.
And near midnight, they found a voicemail Denise had saved but never sent.
It was addressed to Tasha.
And in it, Malcolm’s mother sounded nothing like the confused woman Tasha had described.
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She sounded suspicious.
Very suspicious.
