Stolen identity, legal nightmare
A Hollywood woman finds that victims of identity theft can be treated like criminals themselves.
BY ERIKA BOLSTAD
MARSHA HALPER/MIAMI HERALD STAFF
Jennifer Mehu, a law-abiding school teacher, has struggled to undo the damage to her finances and reputation after impostors committed crimes using her stolen identity.
On the Web How to deter, detect and defend against identity theft
Jennifer Mehu was enjoying a quiet Friday night in front of her television when a team of Broward Sheriff's Office deputies pounded on her door.
''There was a knock on the door -- one of those hard, scary knocks,'' said Mehu, 32, of Hollywood. 'My daughter said, `Mommy, there's police at the door.' She was afraid -- she's 10 years old.''
Mehu asked the deputies why they were there: 'I said, `Someone has stolen my identity. Is this related to that?' ''
Their response: Find someone to sit with your daughter and accompany us to our substation -- either willingly or face arrest.
BSO confirms the basic outlines of Mehu's account, but makes no apologies. The agency said its deputies were just doing their job, investigating a crime reported by a business.
''That's part of the tragic side of identity theft. We have no way of knowing whether it's being committed by the actual person,'' said spokesman Elliot Cohen. ``Until someone starts asking the questions, there's no way of knowing.''
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STOP IDENTITY THIEVES NOW!
Until recently, Mehu's only brush with the law was an Arizona traffic ticket. But on June 8 around 9:45 p.m., the kindergarten teacher found out what many victims of identity theft already know: Often, they're the ones treated like criminals.
More than 15 million Americans experienced some sort of identity theft last year, said Jay Foley, executive director of the Identity Theft Resource Center, a California-based nonprofit that helps people who have had their identities stolen.
''It is the most common crime,'' Foley said. ``We get lots of cases where a person is being pursued by law enforcement for things they have no knowledge of. It's not only unfair, it's offensive.''
Victims of ID theft generally don't end up dealing with police for their own suspected crimes, Foley said. But in Mehu's case, crimes were committed in her name, and she had no choice, since investigators found her. Mehu had to prove that she was not the criminal.
''In her case, it was criminal identity theft,'' Foley said. ``This automatically puts you on the wrong side the law.''
Law enforcement is obligated to investigate the crimes -- and the person in whose name they were committed, Foley said.
Once the I.D. theft victim is cleared of criminal wrongdoing, it is their responsibility to work on clearing their name.
UNDOING THE DAMAGE
The victims are forced to spend countless hours straightening out the financial mess left by the people who stole their identity, Foley said, and they have to endure the humiliation of being suspected of criminal activity.
''Identity theft is the 21st century bank robbery,'' said BSO spokesman Cohen. ``You never have to see them, you never have to come into contact with them. It's an epidemic.''
Mehu's problems started last August, when her handbag was stolen from her car at Walker Elementary School in Fort Lauderdale. She kept her purse in her car because it had been stolen once before from her classroom filing cabinet.
She filed a police report, but it was soon apparent that her ID was being used all over Broward. When she tried to get a new driver's license, she found that someone had been to the agency, which issued a license in Mehu's name -- with the impostor's picture.
The problems began piling up.
Someone received a speeding ticket in her name.
Soon it became clear that people were opening checking accounts in Mehu's name, and writing bad checks.
''I started getting notices that I owe this bank, that bank,'' Mehu said. ``They open checking accounts and they write all these humongous bills with my name and address. SunTrust, Wachovia, Bank Atlantic . . . and banks I've never heard of.''
The worst was yet to come.
In the episode that led to her interrogation by BSO detectives, Mehu was suspected of trying to pass bad checks at a Tamarac Publix.
A woman who had tried to cash a check aroused the suspicions of alert Publix employees, who confiscated her ID. The woman left without the ID, and Publix called BSO, which investigated and issued a warrant for Mehu's arrest.
Mehu had seen police interrogations on TV shows. But she had no idea how frightening the real thing would be.
The night they came to question her, a male detective watched as she got dressed. Once Mehu's sister arrived to care for her daughter, Aysis, Mehu was instructed to follow the cops in her own car.
They sandwiched her vehicle between two patrol cars on the drive from Hollywood to Tamarac.
Mehu was so frightened that she dialed 911, to make sure the deputies were legitimate. While she was on the phone with dispatchers, the deputies escorting her called her and told her to stop calling 911, because they were law enforcement officers.
At the station, they showed her different identifications they had confiscated with her name on them.
''It was so scary,'' Mehu said. ``It was just the most horrifying, terrifying experience. It was a little box of a room, with a table and a chair, and a clock. It was padded. There were chains on the floor.''
Eventually, it became clear to detectives that she wasn't the person they were looking for, Mehu said. After about 40 minutes, they let her go, telling her the matter was closed.
But Mehu hasn't forgotten it.
''I don't know what to do to get this out of my head,'' she said.
It's difficult to determine how much the crime cost her, Mehu said. Its main toll has been psychological, although she has spent hours contacting credit bureaus and the check-clearing bureaus.
BURDEN ON THE VICTIM
She has had to put a special flag on her driver's license, so that if she's ever stopped by police, they must ask her for two forms of identification.
She makes sure her Florida I.D., voter registration card and insurance card are quickly accessible. She has applied for a passport. She has signed up for a credit monitoring service for $10 a month. She no longer carries a purse.
''It's sad. I love purses. Now, I just carry a wallet that I can keep in my pocket,'' Mehu said.
Her credit is such a mess that she is afraid to apply for a credit card.
And it has been embarrassing.
Mehu learned through the Fort Lauderdale detective investigating the theft of her handbag that one of the people posing as her was a man dressed as a woman.
Mehu was mortified.
She worries that whatever criminal mischief the I.D. thieves are up to will come back to haunt her on the job, where a clean criminal background is a career requirement.
''I'm scared this might damage my career as a teacher,'' Mehu said. ``I'm at a loss, but everywhere I turn, people say, identity theft is very difficult to solve. It seems like the people who are victims, everything comes back to them.''
Tags: Stolen identity, legal nightmare, identity theft prevention
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