Women in Fraud: February 2026

Amy Seintourens asks a lot of questions. Not the loud kind. The quiet kind that doesn’t let go — the kind that sit in the back of your mind until the answer finally makes sense.

That habit shaped her career. Before Amy ever ran a fraud department, she decided she wanted to build one. She said it out loud. More than once. She paid attention to how fraud actually showed up — who it hurt, where the gaps were, and what wasn’t working.

So, when her institution finally created a centralized fraud team, leadership didn’t have to look far. Amy was already doing the work. Even then, she wondered if she was ready. Learning by listening first Amy didn’t take a straight path into fraud. Her early career started in customer service, back when fraud teams weren’t centralized and technology looked very different.

You helped customers with everything — and sometimes that meant helping them when something felt off. She listened closely. She asked questions. She followed problems until they finally made sense. Years later, while working at an online bank, fraud became real in a new way. There were no branches. No face-to-face meetings. Just behaviors, patterns, and people pretending to be someone they weren’t.

That’s where Amy fell in love with the work. If she had to explain her job to her grandmother, she wouldn’t use titles or tools.

“I help protect people,” she’d say.

That’s still how she sees it. The teacher in the room (by choice) Ask Amy what problem she spends the most time solving, and she won’t say alerts or losses. She’ll say education. Customers don’t know what fraud teams know. And they’re not supposed to.

That gap is where risk lives — especially for older adults. Amy spends a lot of time talking. With branch staff. With members. Sometimes face-to-face with people who have already been scammed once — and are close to falling for it again. She explains. She repeats herself. She tells stories. She slows things down. Because stopping fraud isn’t always about catching the bad guy. Sometimes it’s about helping someone pause before they make a decision they can’t undo.

Why women thrive here

Amy has worked in rooms where she was the only woman. Rooms full of men, some with law enforcement backgrounds. Rooms where she had to prove she belonged. She did. Over time, she noticed something. Women remember details. They trust their instincts. They don’t let things go just because someone says, “It’s probably fine.” In fraud, those traits aren’t weaknesses. They’re advantages. Today, Amy speaks up with calm confidence. Not loudly. Just clearly. Built from experience.

Building something from nothing

One of the proudest moments of Amy’s career didn’t come from a single case. It came from building something that didn’t exist. When she joined her current institution, there was no centralized fraud department. Amy made her goal clear: she wanted to create one.

Years later, when leadership decided the time was right, she was asked to lead it. Even then, the doubt crept in. Did they make the right choice? Amy is honest about that feeling. Many women carry it. Imposter syndrome doesn’t mean you don’t belong. Most of the time, it means you care. She learned to sit with the discomfort — and keep going anyway.

Looking forward

Fraud is changing fast. Technology is moving even faster. Amy is excited about the tools available today — but she’s realistic. The same tools helping fraud teams are also helping fraudsters.

That’s why she believes the most important tools aren’t technical. Education. Communication. Listening. Fraud prevention only works when people understand why they’re being asked to slow down, double-check, or ask one more question.

If this chapter of Amy’s life had a title, she already knows what it would be: "Unexpected changes. Exciting opportunities". And from the way she shows up every day — protecting people, teaching others, and building systems that last — it’s clear she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

“Fraud doesn’t always look big at first.”

Sometimes, it sounds like a phone call. That’s how it started for De'Airra Belcher 🔐🥊

Someone called and said they were from the IRS. They told her she owed money. They said her accounts could be frozen. They even mentioned her mother’s address. It felt real. Her heart raced. Her body went hot. Fear set in fast. But instead of panicking, De’Airra paused. She asked questions. She took notes. She searched online. That’s when she realized the truth. It was a scam. Someone pretending to be someone else.

At the time, De’Airra had only been in banking for about a year. She hadn’t developed what she now calls her “fraud gut.” She didn’t yet have the tools, language, or experience to fully understand what had happened. But the moment stayed with her.

In 2016, De’Airra was introduced to Regulation E while working as a Dispute Resolution Analyst. She later moved into a back-office banking role, where her work focused on account monitoring, customer correspondence, and wire processing. Years later, in 2020, she began transitioning into fraud work at a different employer. That’s when everything truly connected.

As she reviewed fraud alerts and case files, the fear and urgency she saw in customers felt familiar. It was the same fear she had felt during that phone call years earlier. The same panic. The same rush to act before thinking.

This time, she understood it. That’s what surprised her most. Fraud isn’t just numbers on a screen. It’s personal. People weren’t just losing money. They were losing sleep. They were losing trust. They were blaming themselves.

And yet, the process often ends too quickly. A case is closed. A decision is made. And the person is left wondering what just happened. De’Airra believes something is missing — care in the aftermath of chaos.

She often hears people say, “They should have known better.” She hates that phrase.