As she approached the front of the line, Bernie dug around in her fleece for her card holder. But instead of grasping the slim leather envelope, her fist closed around a chunky metal object. Without taking her hand out of her pocket, she traced the grooves of the ring with her thumb, mentally chastising herself for taking unnecessary risks, but also getting off on the shiver of danger. Her treasures were supposed to stay in their bowl, secure in her home. It was what she’d always done. It was the smart thing to do. But there was something irresistible about this piece—ugly and heavy as it was, with its blue centre stone and excessive engraving—that had compelled her to slip it into her zip-up as she got dressed that morning.
She had absolutely no business having Derrick’s class ring in her possession, which was exactly why she loved it.
8
FILTHY FUNDSS2E03:
GOFRAUDME
CLAUDIA:Good morning, Fundies! Or whatever time of day it is that you’re listening to this. I’ve got my iced Americano and I’m ready to rock.
LEO:I’ve got my chocolate croissant from Sam James and I swear I’m going to have to set up a GoFundMe page to support my breakfast habit, because this pastry addiction is bankrupting me.
CLAUDIA:Life is pain, my friend! Pain au chocolat! On this season ofFilthy Funds, we’ve been looking at the various crimes that can be perpetrated using fundraising websites. Last week we covered how crowdfunding can provide the perfect cover for sophisticated criminals to use stolen credit card data and launder money.
LEO:And this week we’re talking about several different types of fundraising scams . . . including one particular case that led to murder. It never ceases to amaze me how muchworkpeople will put into these frauds—like, maybe just get a job?
CLAUDIA:From made-up charities to fake funerals to appeals during natural disasters, there’s just no end to the “scampaigns.” Hey, since it’s late June, it’s actually fitting that our first topic today is cancer! Fake cancer, that is.
LEO:The first time I learned about a fake cancer scam—back when I was still an innocent babe in the woods, if you can imagine such a thing—I thought it was the craziest thing I’d ever heard. Like, who would do such a thing? As it turns out,so manypeople!
CLAUDIA:Fake bone cancer, fake breast cancer, fake leukemia, fake neuroblastoma, there’s no end to it. There are people who will go to extremes to convince their friends, family, and community at large that they are very, very sick. And then comes the deluge of online posts asking for money for experimental treatments, fancy wigs, child care costs, special trips—you name it. Shout-out to theScamandapodcast for doing an exposé on one of the wildest cancer scams.
LEO:Something that fascinates me about this topic is a new term I learned while researching for the episode: Munchausen by internet. As the Fundies probably know—you crime-obsessed little ghouls—Munchausen syndrome is where someone lies about having personal ailments in order to get attention, and Munchausen by proxy is a sick form of child abuse where a parent essentially creates an illness or medical condition for their child.
CLAUDIA:Gotta interject with another quick reco here—go listen to theNobody Should Believe Mepodcast if you’re interested in Munchausen by proxy!
LEO:Munchausen by internet is like a specific subtype of Munchausen syndrome, where a person pretends to have an illness in an online forum. They’ll infiltrate support groups, medical chat rooms, and, most importantly for our purposes, fundraising websites.
CLAUDIA:When they get caught, there’s usually a frenzy of media interest, the person is ostracized, and sometimes there are even criminal charges. But when the dust settles, this same person will often try their luck again a few years later. They’ll move to a new city, snap a selfie of their shaved head with a tube coming out of their nose, and boom—they’re right back at it.
LEO:It’s totally shameless.
CLAUDIA:Speaking of shameless, let me quickly plug our merch before I forget! We restocked the online shop today—and no, this is not a scam. We’ve got a bunch of new T-shirt designs,Filthy Fundschange purses, and even a “Keep It Clean” hand soap. So get into it!
9
IMOGEN
Imogen focused on the red roof peeking through the trees to stop from being sick. They’d been on the speedboat for nearly forty-five minutes and her stomach had been roiling since the moment they motored away from the rinky-dink marina dock on Massassauga Lake. Their captain, the owner of the cottage, was a leather-faced man named Rick whose golden retriever, Betsy, was accompanying them on the trip. Imogen made sure to sit as far from Betsy as possible, and spent the ride fighting flares of annoyance that Rick had assumed they’d all be okay with him bringing his pet, even if she was a super-chill dog. Rick was oblivious to Imogen’s discomfort, smiling as he steered the boat into the wind. He seemed to take great pleasure in hitting every single wave, sending slaps of lake spray across the boat. Imogen’s fresh blond extensions were a matted tangle and she was sure her mascara had melted into raccoon circles under her eyes.
Imogen looked across at Celeste, who was gazing serenely at the passing scenery with not a hair out of place—her low ponytail tucked under a chic ball cap—and a smile on her lips. When they’d first boarded Rick’s vessel and set off from the marina, Celeste had immediately turned to Marta with an inquisitorial tone in her voice. “Marta, I hate to be blunt, but if I don’t say something now, the whole weekend’s going to be weird. Um, how are you even here? I don’t mean to be insensitive, but didn’t the police tell you not to leave town? Not that you’ve done anything wrong, god, this must be so awful for you . . . but wouldn’t you want to be there, like, at the house, in case they find . . . in case Derrick comes home? I mean,whenhe comes home.”
“She hasn’t done anything wrong, Celeste, why would you say that?” Imogen interceded on Marta’s behalf, but was secretly glad that Celeste had asked the question they’d all been wondering about.
“I’m not trying to be mean! But maybe it’s better to have it all out in the open instead of having a missing-husband-elephant-in-the-room situation all weekend,” Celeste huffed. “Marta, we’re all here for you, but I think we can support you better if you actually talk about what’s going on.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” said Marta in a soft voice, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s engine. She hugged her arms around her body. “I’m allowed to be here. The police asked me not to leave the province, but they didn’t have a problem with me coming here. It’s basically just protocol, the spouse is always a suspect . . . you all know how it is.”
Of course they did. They’d read the books, watched the documentaries, listened to the podcasts. It’s almost always the spouse, but the spouse is almost always the husband.
Marta let out a groan. “Actually, it sounds like they think he took off on his own. It doesn’t seem like they’re taking it that seriously.”
Imogen took a deep breath in when she heard that, deeper than she’d been able to manage for weeks, but her new-found ability to breathe easy was immediately challenged by a rough patch of water, and the wavy conditions quickly put a halt to further conversation.
When they finally pulled in to the wooden L-dock on the island, Imogen’s hands were clammy and cramped from gripping the side of the boat. All the women clambered out of the boat, with Imogen leading the way (she practically vaulted over Marta to get her feet on dry land), then Rick helped unload their bags, groceries, and the cooler full of alcohol.
“Wow, ladies, you certainly know how to party—from the weight of it, there’s enough booze in here to host a rager.” Rick placed the cooler on the dock with a grunt, then flipped his sunglasses up over his head so they rested on the backwards brim of his baseball cap. “I’ll give you my little spiel, then let you get down to living it up. Welcome to Snakebite Island here on the bee-yu-tee-ful Venom Lake! Technically, this is Massassauga Lake—that’s what you’ll see on all the maps—but the true locals call her Venom Lake because the Massassauga rattlesnake is the only venomous snake in this part of the country.” He paused and gave them a mischievous grin. “But fear not!”
