FSE

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"That's when I knew I couldn't take it anymore...I needed to find someone like you, to get the evidence I need to prove I'm not...I-I'm not crazy. Or jealous. Or terrible with memory or my spending."

My newest client sat across from my desk hunched over and tail curled protectively on her lap. I'd almost forgotten how long lemur tails could be, but I remained focused on his recounting of what led him to me; Mr. Jared Clark happened to be in a (presumably) good relationship with another lemur his age named Heather. They'd been together since senior year of high school, three years strong, but the unmarried honeymoon phase started to decline when Jared noticed odd charges on his credit cards. Then, an occasional visit from the landlord telling them that the rent didn't arrive, forcing him to pay a large surplus out of his savings. Heather always swore that the rent must've gotten lost in the mail, then guilt-tripped him into apologizing for accusing her. Rinse and repeat.

Jared Clark worked as a digital artist and a gas station attendant. His (sometimes) unemployed girlfriend shared the apartment, but the lease was in her name. She also constantly boasted about a new job search always happening when he didn't see. What made things even worse revolved around her parents seeing her as the golden child incapable of doing wrong. The girlfriend's mother also happened to be a successful lawyer with an office downtown.

"I can't even remember the last time I found banking statements in the mail anymore...and that's why I need hard proof. I can't keep doing this...this bullshit!" Jared told me, trying to keep his cool despite the circumstances. "Heather's good at changing topics. She's managed to convince me enough times that I probably forgot to make a payment, or that one credit card payment was connected to another."

Clearly, Heather takes after her mother.

On paper, Heather fit all the categories of a narcissistic financial abuser. When I pushed for more information, Jared further opened up how...assertive his girlfriend became about her boyfriend earning more money from his digital artwork. Between the day job and commissions, he spoke about life as if a good night's sleep and a visit to a restaurant were mere luxuries. A day off could only be rewarded whenever Heather felt in the mood to go out and spend his money.

Professionalism aside, I felt terrible for the lemur. I'd been on the receiving end of gaslighting myself, thanks to my parents. Cutting them out of my life was out of the question, but at the same time, I could feel Jared's plight. It sucked when people you thought were deserving of your trust undermined your ability to be certain of everything.

"I managed to scrounge enough for the deposit, but I don't have anything else--"

"Don't worry about it." I waved a paw, then gathered the paperwork.

"But-But your policy said to be ready for payment." He argued with me. "How--"

"Nah, the deposit will be enough." I told to the lemur, smiling warmly at him. "If I do find any evidence, and you're confident enough to cut her out of your life, you're gonna need all the energy to get yourself outta this financial pit you're in."

I couldn't pretend to be a therapist nor a financial advisor, but I did have the numbers for both. They each owed me favors, especially after I recently helped the therapist with a kleptomaniac secretary of his.

"I-I can't thank you enough for helping me, Mr. Leander!" He shook my paw.

"Please, call me 'Zack'." I told him, "And you can thank me once we're done."

***

After Jared Clark signed the contract, and handed me the meager deposit, I went straight to work. The first thing I had Jared do was contact his bank and inform them to change the address so his banking statements would be mailed to his sister's house instead. He needed to change the PIN numbers too while he was at it, and not inform his girlfriend of the news. It would all be temporary but help us in the short run.

Then, I opted to follow Heather in secret over the course of two entire days. After waking up close to noon on the first day, she'd go out of their apartment and went to different business venues, spending cash she claimed either disappeared by her boyfriend's paws or didn't even exist. She went to a strip mall, a park to take photos on, browsed some new shoes, and then went out with some gal pals to a bar and grill not too far from the apartment. Heather even took the time to leave a ten-dollar tip for the handsome server, telling her girlfriends, "Eight out of ten."

The second day became even more interesting. She joined some girlfriends to another restaurant. Only, she did not even try to hide her gold-digger attitude. Apparently, she did love Jared Clark. In the same way the rude customers loved retail employees, or a trophy wife loved her latest conquest.

"Like, Jared is such a total spaz!" Heather slurred her words, having apparently gotten drunk before five in the afternoon. "Like, he doesn't know why his fuckin' debit cards won't work, and now I can't pay for all those credit card bills. Don't even get me started on how lazy he is. Guy's got several commissions to do, and won't get them done."

As a private detective, I'd encountered my fair share of gold-diggers and financial abusers. A member of the former called me a misogynist for exposing her scheme, threatening to tell lies about me to police until I reminded her my office had a hidden camera. A member of the latter also threatened to sue me, but it went nowhere. Never had I encountered the amalgamation of a gold-digging financial abuser. Especially one who held no remorse for her actions.

The thing that surprised me the most was how she didn't cheat on him.

As far as I knew.

Anyway, the case closed quickly. The photos I'd taken of her spending freely and the audio recording were sufficient evidence. Jared listened to my advice and presented them to her parents, who then called her over for an intervention as he discreetly moved out of the apartment to live with his older sister and her family for the time being. I even volunteered to help him out.

"I don't know what to say to you, but...thank you, Zack." He said over the phone, his extended family's voices in the background of the call. "You saved me. You saved me."

"Do you regret it?" I asked, to which he snorted.

"Not...Not really," he admitted between buzzing noises I could hear from the other end, "but it isn't helping that Heather's sending me these apocalyptic texts. Right now, actually."

I stifled a laugh.

"Just do yourself a favor and get a good night's sleep, okay?" I replied. "It's up to you if you wanna pursue a civil suit against her. The photos and audio I sent you were taken in public, so you wouldn't need to worry in a legal sense."

"Got it, Zack. And yeah, I'm gonna sleep a little better tonight...thank you."

The week had a toll on me, believe it or not. Perhaps I needed a vacation.