Chương 8
“You asked me to.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Rachel frowned.
“I did?”
Daniel smiled.
“Concussion. Very convenient.”
She threw a tissue box at him.
He caught it.
The uniform remained on the back of the closet door.
Rachel looked at it often.
Ethan had loved seeing her in dress uniform.
He used to tell people she was the brave one in the marriage.
Rachel had once thought that was admiration.
Now she wondered how much of love was simply the stories people liked telling about themselves.
She did not ask the question out loud.
Ortiz visited again with a man named Detective Cole who had been handling the financial side.
They had more.
Elevator footage.
Key-fob data.
Messages between Ethan and Julian showing that Ethan knew about Rachel’s lawyer appointment.
A message Ethan sent at 8:52 p.m.:
Tomorrow cannot happen.
Julian replied:
I said I’ll call the office.
Ethan:
Not enough.
That was not a confession.
But it was no longer nothing.
There was also a deleted draft email recovered from Ethan’s laptop after investigators obtained the appropriate authority to search devices connected to the financial investigation. It outlined what Ethan believed he would control if Rachel died.
His assumptions were partly wrong.
Laura Benton had been correct.
But his motive did not require him to understand estate law properly.
He only needed to believe Rachel’s death solved his immediate problems.
The financial pressure was worse than Rachel had understood.
Ethan’s company was days from missing obligations that would expose years of reckless borrowing and several questionable representations to investors.
He had not been poor.
That mattered to Rachel.
He had not stolen because he needed food.
He had not panicked because their house was about to disappear.
He had gambled with reputation and money until losing became intolerable.
Then he had treated Rachel as another obstacle to manage.
“What are you asking me to do?” Rachel said.
Ortiz glanced at Cole.
Cole answered.
“Nothing yet.”
Daniel muttered, “I hate when people say that.”
Cole ignored him.
“We believe Ethan is increasingly concerned about the phone.”
Rachel looked at Ortiz.
“He already knows you have it.”
“He knows police have possession of a phone. He doesn’t know what we recovered.”
“He guessed.”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
Ortiz said, “His lawyer has asked whether you are willing to meet privately to discuss a separation agreement and property access.”
Daniel laughed.
“No.”
Rachel looked at him.
“No one asked you.”
“He tried to kill you.”
“I’m aware.”
“He wants access to you because he thinks he can manipulate you.”
“Probably.”
“So no.”
Rachel turned to Ortiz.
“You want the meeting.”
Ortiz chose her words carefully.
“We think a voluntary meeting could be useful if you want it. We would not ask you to provoke a confession. We would not ask you to lie about evidence. You are not an investigator.”
Daniel said, “Excellent. Then she doesn’t meet him.”
Rachel kept looking at Ortiz.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Ortiz exhaled.
“We are close to acting. His attorney may know that. Ethan may be trying to assess what you remember before that happens.”
“And you’d like to see what he does.”
“I’d like to remove uncertainty, if possible.”
Daniel stood.
“No.”
Rachel’s temper snapped.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“He pushed you down concrete stairs.”
“Sit down.”
He stared at her.
Rachel felt suddenly exhausted.
“I have spent ten days with everyone deciding what I can handle,” she said. “Doctors. Police. You. Mom. Ethan started before all of you.”
Daniel’s face changed.
She continued.
“I know you’re trying to protect me. But if you turn protecting me into controlling me, I swear to God, I will hit you with this brace.”
He looked at the black orthopedic frame around her cast.
“That would require mobility you do not currently possess.”
Rachel pointed toward the chair.
“Sit.”
He sat.
Ortiz’s mouth twitched.
Rachel saw it.
“Don’t encourage him.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The plan was simple enough to be disappointing.
No theatrical sting.
No hidden microphone taped beneath Rachel’s clothing.
The hospital room already had access controls, and detectives could remain nearby with Rachel’s consent.
Daniel would be present.
Margaret did not need to be.
Margaret insisted.
Rachel objected.
Margaret said, “I helped him doubt you.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to watch this.”
“Yes, it does.”
“For who?”
Margaret hesitated.
“For me.”
Rachel appreciated the honesty.
She still said no.
Margaret left the room and returned twenty minutes later with tea.
She sat down.
“I’m not changing my answer.”
“I know.”
“You’re staying anyway?”
“For the tea.”
Rachel stared at her mother.
Margaret sipped.
Eventually Rachel said, “Fine.”
Daniel groaned.
“Excellent. Democracy fails again.”
The meeting was scheduled for the following afternoon.
That morning, Rachel asked Daniel to help her dress.
He thought she meant regular clothes.
Then she pointed at the garment bag.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You’re in a hospital.”
“I noticed.”
“You have an IV.”
“They can disconnect it for twenty minutes.”
“You have a cast.”
“Also noticed.”
Daniel unzipped the garment bag.
The olive-green Army dress uniform looked impossibly formal against the pale hospital room.
“You’re insane.”
“Probably the head injury.”
“That joke was mine.”
“Nothing is yours.”
The nurse objected first.
The physical therapist objected second.
Rachel negotiated.
Eventually they allowed the jacket, white shirt, black tie, belt, and uniform trousers adjusted carefully around the brace, provided Rachel remained seated and did not attempt anything idiotic.
Daniel said, “Define idiotic.”
The nurse looked at him.
“You.”
It took almost half an hour.
Rachel’s long wavy light-brown hair had become tangled after days in bed. Margaret helped brush it while pretending not to cry.
“Stop pulling.”
“I am not pulling.”
“You are absolutely pulling.”
“You used to say that when you were seven.”
“I was right then too.”
Margaret worked more gently.
May you like
Rachel watched herself in the mirror.
The bruise at her temple had turned dark purple fading to yellow at the edges. A small white bandage covered the cut on her cheek. Her face looked thinner. The uniform fit, but not the way it had two weeks earlier.
