'I just knew it was fake': the Surrey karaoke queen whose song helped put a fraudster in jail

This is a story about defying expectations.

How a crazy-haired teenager turns out to have the moral fortitude to challenge a senior-swindling fraudster on his own doorstep. And how 20 years later, a tattoo-sleeved Surrey karaoke queen serves as the FBI star-witness who will send that same telemarketer — Mark Eldon Wilson — to a U.S. prison.

Jacqueline Stone has been — and is — both women. What can she say? She loves to shock.

"You can't judge a book by its cover," the 36-year-old says.

"That's exactly what he did. He underestimated us. He just assumed that because we looked different, and we were young, that we were stupid. And that we wouldn't have the morals to do anything about it."

'We were told to pretend we were on the computer'

A Los Angeles federal court judge sentenced Wilson to more than 11 years last month for running a telemarketing scheme that bilked thousands of elderly American victims out of more than $18 million.

The 57-year-old Vancouver man ran companies with names like "American Fraud Watch Services" that misled victims into buying non-existent credit card protection in case their cards were compromised.

Buried deep within the trial records is Stone's unlikely tale: part Scooby Doo and part Law & Order with an Oliver! twist.

Stone was a Grade 10 dropout in 1998. She alternated between shaved-head and yellow dye — "a bit of a punk hanging out with all the punk kids in White Rock."

Word spread about Mark Wilson, a call-centre guy paying big money for easy work.

"Me and a lot of my friends rushed down there to get jobs," she says.

"It was very, very basic. Just a bunch of cubicles with a phone. We were told to pretend that we were on the computer all the time."

'We were just kids — leave it to the adults'

The calls followed a script. And almost immediately, Stone smelled a rat.

"I was good at sales so I was excited about the job," she says. "But it took less than a week to realize that we were only calling senior citizens. We were lying to them on the script. And it was fake. I just knew it was fake."

And so she rebelled.

Stone quietly told the seniors she called to write down the name of the company and ask some questions. And she warned them about giving out private information over the phone.

"I didn't want to rip any more people off," she says.

And then she went to the police.

"At the time, I think I thought I was going to save the world that day," she says. "It was pretty disappointing. I spent a couple of hours making a statement. And then they said it's actually going to take months or years. And I said — but he's literally up the street."

So she gathered a group of her friends and marched up to Wilson's house.

"I just wanted it to stop. And I couldn't believe the police weren't going to stop it," she says. "I do remember his reaction 100 per cent, because it's exactly what I'd expected. He just kept telling us we were stupid. We didn't know what we were talking about. We were just kids — leave it to the adults."

'It was a bit of a shock'

Fast forward to 2008, and Stone — now 26 — is hanging out at home, when she hears a knock on the door.

"It was an RCMP officer and an FBI agent," she says. "I may have literally been smoking a joint. So it was a bit of a shock."

Wilson and his partner, Carrie Elizabeth Hope, had been charged with fraud. Hope, who pleaded guilty, was given probation. But Wilson was going to trial. Would Stone be willing to testify?

"They told me it was going to be a process. But 10 years?" she says. "It was just out of my mind by then."

It would be even further out of her mind by the time Wilson's case actually went to a jury. He fought extradition for another 10 years.

By this time Stone had made a name for herself in pubs around the Fraser Valley as the owner of a popular karaoke business. But this would be a different type of singing.

'You have to stand up for those people'

The FBI flew Stone down to Los Angeles last March and put her up in a hotel near the courtroom. She spent each day of the trial in a room for witnesses.

She was told her testimony would be special, because she had actually worked in a call centre.

Finally, she took the stand. Wilson sat and watched.

"I just felt like it was finally my chance," she says. "I come from a family that does everything for charities and that is really giving (to seniors). And you have to stand up for those people."

As a teen punk, Stone liked to surprise old ladies by giving up her seat on SkyTrain. She says a person's hair, piercings and tattoos rarely tell the whole story.

When she got home, her FBI contact texted to say Wilson had been found guilty on seven counts of wire fraud and two counts of mail fraud.

"I wanted to do a good job of practising what I was sticking up for," she says. "It was just so satisfying to know that it finally happened."