It's Never too Late

“But it wasn’t Tory who died in the crash. It was Christine. Afraid for her life, and for the lives of anyone around her were it to be known that she was still alive, Tory allowed the mistaken identity to stand and came to Shelter Valley and assumed her dead sister’s life.”

So much about the story bothered Addy. And not all of it was professional. Or to do with the job. Lines were blurring. Which was why she was talking about the case at all. She, like Tory, was living an assumed life.

Doing something wrong—but for good reason.

But she wasn’t taking on power that didn’t belong to her, wasn’t in a certified position, living a life of duplicity in a way that could directly affect other lives. Was she?

“She taught classes?” Mark asked, his tone suggesting that he found the story engrossing.

He didn’t seem to find it odd that she’d allowed her curiosity to drive her to follow the trail, either.

“Yes, she taught Christine’s full load.”

“She had a doctorate degree, then, too?”

“No. A high school education was as far as she got.”

Mark looked at her as they walked. “Wait a minute. This is the teacher that was at the top of the professorial ratings you were talking about? The ones that prove Montford’s high standard of excellence?”

“Yeah.”

“And she was a fraud?”

“Yes.”

“You said you found an article about it, so I’m assuming she was caught?”

That’s where things got really sticky for Addy.

And for Will.

“In a manner of speaking,” she said. “The abusive ex-husband apparently had a lot of money and he hired detectives to watch Christine, just to verify that they hadn’t pulled a fast one and pretended that Tory was dead. When he heard that Christine was doing so well as a professor, he became convinced of her death and, leaving a note to the effect that if he couldn’t be with her in life, he’d be with her in eternity, he shot himself. Someone who worked for him, but was loyal to Tory, got word to her that he was dead and she immediately came clean.”

They were nearing the parking lot.

“Before the end of the semester?”

“No. Word came during semester break.”

“What happened to all of those students who took her class? A class she didn’t have credentials to teach?”

“They received full credit for the courses they took from her.”

“Can you do that?”

Legally, if the institution determined that they’d met class qualifications of learning, they could. It would be the same as though they’d all tested out of the classes. But ethically?

“They did it.”

“Students could have sued, couldn’t they?”

“Yes. But because they all turned in work to exhibit their mastery of the subject matter, their damages would probably have been negligible.”

Addy froze inside for a second. A college freshman who’d only read an article wouldn’t know that. Would she?

“Did anyone try?”

He didn’t miss a beat—either on the sidewalk, or in their conversation. She started to breathe easier again.