A Thief Opened a $250,000 Credit Line in My Name. The Bank Said My Co-Signer Was a Woman I’d Never Met

“Mr. Fairley, your line of credit is ninety days past due. The balance is two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

“I don’t have a line of credit.”

“Our records show you opened it in March. With your co-signer, Mrs. Noreen Gatlin.”

“I don’t know anyone named Noreen Gatlin.”

The woman on the phone paused. “Sir, the application lists you as married.”

I’m Julius Fairley. Fifty-three. My wife, Grace, passed away four years ago. We were married twenty-six years, and I have not looked at another woman since. I farm three thousand acres of peanuts and cotton outside Albany, Georgia, and I own the biggest farm equipment dealership in the southwest corner of the state.

My credit score has been perfect since 1989.

That afternoon, I froze my credit, filed a police report and called my lawyer. Then I looked up Noreen Gatlin.

A dentist in Valdosta. Fifty-one. Divorced. Her practice had good reviews and a photograph of her smiling in a white coat.

I was still looking at that photograph when my phone rang.

“Is this Julius Fairley?”

“It is.”

“This is Noreen Gatlin.” Her voice was cold enough to chill a glass of tea. “I’d like to know why the bank is calling me about a quarter of a million dollars I borrowed with you.”

“Ma’am, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Mr. Fairley, I’ve never met you in my life. So you’d better explain why my signature is on a bank application that lists us as husband and wife.”