…used it to apply for a marriage license with your future son-in-law. They were legally married that Friday, in the hotel’s conference room.”
I didn’t understand. My daughter, Jenna, and her fiancé, Kyle, weren’t getting married for three more weeks.
The manager showed me the officiant’s booking. Kyle had married a woman pretending to be Jenna, using Jenna’s ID, which Jenna’s best friend, Brooke, had borrowed “to book the bachelorette suite.” The woman was Brooke’s cousin, who looked enough like Jenna to pass.
I called my lawyer. She figured it out within an hour. Jenna’s late grandfather had left her a trust fund of $1.2 million, to be released when she married. The trust required a marriage certificate, nothing more. Kyle and Brooke had planned to submit the certificate from the fake wedding, claim the money before the real ceremony and split it.
“The real wedding was just a cover,” my lawyer said. “By the time Jenna noticed the money was gone, they’d be gone too.”
I told Jenna that night. She didn’t believe me until I showed her the photograph of Brooke, Kyle and the woman in a white dress. Then she sat on my couch and cried for three hours.
My lawyer filed to void the fraudulent marriage and froze the trust. Kyle, Brooke and her cousin were charged with identity theft and fraud.
The wedding was cancelled. I didn’t get the $30,000 back from the venue. I didn’t care.
Two years later, Jenna married a man named Alex in my backyard. Thirty guests. No hotel conference rooms. Her trust paid for their first home. Jenna made Alex sign a prenup. He laughed and said he’d sign anything as long as he got to marry her.
