Part 11
Nathan nodded toward the hall.
“Get it.”
Margaret stood, then stopped.
“Do you believe Emma?”
“Yes,” Nathan said.
She looked at Graham.
“Yes.”
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
“I should have spoken when Victoria told you to take her out.”
Graham did not offer immediate absolution.
“Yes,” he said. “You should have.”
Margaret accepted it.
“She knew I had sent the email,” she said. “Not for certain. But she knew someone had copied the invoices. When Emma found the payment page, Victoria thought I had given it to her.”
“So she accused Emma to pressure you,” Nathan said.
“And to make anything Emma said sound dishonest.”
Graham looked toward the stairs.
“Did Victoria intend to send Emma away?”
Margaret hesitated.
“She had information for a boarding school open on her computer last week.”
Nathan’s face emptied.
“What school?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Was there an application?”
“I saw an inquiry form. I don’t know whether she submitted it.”
Nathan stood so abruptly that the chair scraped back.
Graham blocked the doorway before he reached it.
“Not tonight.”
“She was planning to send my daughter away.”
“You do not know that.”
“She said this wasn’t Emma’s home.”
“And if you confront her now, you will shout loudly enough to wake the child you are trying to protect.”
Nathan’s chest rose and fell.
For one moment, Graham saw the boy who had once punched a wall after his mother refused a second round of treatment. The boy had broken two knuckles and hidden the injury for a day because he did not want her to know.
“Sit down,” Graham said.
Nathan did.
Margaret went upstairs to call her husband.
Graham remained awake until nearly three. Nathan tried to work at the dining table but spent more time staring at the same screen than reading it. Victoria did not come downstairs. Once, footsteps crossed above them toward Emma’s room and stopped.
Graham went to the bottom of the stairs.
The footsteps retreated.
In the morning, the storm had closed the mountain road.
Snow lay against the front doors to the height of Nathan’s travel bag. The power flickered twice during breakfast, making the chandelier dim and brighten over the scene of the previous night.
The jewelry box was still in the center of the table.
Emma came downstairs wearing jeans, a navy sweater, and her locket. She stopped when she saw Victoria by the windows.
Victoria had tied her hair back again. She wore no earrings and no makeup. A mug of tea rested between her hands.
Nathan moved his chair so Emma could sit beside him.
“Good morning,” he said.
She looked at Victoria.
“Good morning,” Victoria said.
Emma did not answer.
No one corrected her.
Graham made pancakes because the caterers had left eggs, milk, and more berries than five people could eat. The first pancake stuck to the pan and tore in half. The second burned while he was reading an alert from the county road service. Emma ate the burnt one without complaint.
“You don’t have to eat that,” Nathan said.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s black.”
“I like the edges.”
Graham placed a better pancake on her plate.
She cut around the soft middle and ate only the crisp border, proving she had not been polite.
Victoria watched the exchange with an expression Graham could not interpret.
Margaret entered last. She had changed into gray trousers and a wool cardigan, clothes Graham had seen her wear during ordinary office days. Her husband had advised her not to discuss the accounts further without counsel.
Nathan accepted the boundary.
At nine, he called the foundation attorney from the study. At nine-thirty, he contacted the board’s audit chair. At ten, he arranged an emergency video meeting for the afternoon, though the storm prevented anyone from reaching the lodge in person.
Victoria listened from the library doorway.
“You are suspending the project without hearing my presentation,” she said when he ended the call.
Nathan set down the phone.
“The project is already suspended.”
“You cannot do that alone.”
“Dad and I control three of the five board votes between us.”
Graham stood near the shelves, holding a binder he had not opened.
Victoria looked at him.
“Are you going to let him destroy the foundation because he is angry with me?”
Graham placed the binder on the desk.
“The foundation was not created to enrich my family.”
“It would have owned a retreat center.”
“It would have paid to build one on land controlled by yours.”
“You have not read the complete plan.”
“I have read enough to require an audit.”
“A public audit will destroy donor confidence.”
“A hidden fraud will do worse.”
“You don’t know that it was fraud.”
“No.”
Graham looked at her.
“That is why we investigate.”
Victoria crossed the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Nathan in the hall.
Nathan’s hand reached for the knob.
Graham shook his head.
“Give us five minutes.”
Nathan did not like it, but he stepped away.
Victoria stood with her back to the door.
For the first time since Graham had known her, she seemed unsure how to begin.
“You wanted me gone before I arrived,” she said.
“That is not true.”
“You wanted a quiet woman who would keep Laura’s dishes in the same cabinets and thank you for approving every choice.”
“I wanted Nathan not to marry while he was still grieving.”
“He waited four years.”
“Grief does not follow a calendar.”
“No. It follows you into every room and asks everyone else to lower their voices.”
Graham looked toward the window. Beyond the glass, snow covered the branch where Laura had once hung bird feeders. The feeders were gone now. Victoria had removed them because the seed attracted bears.
She had been right.
The admission did not make the rest of her actions smaller.
“Why Emma?” he asked.
Victoria’s face tightened.
“I did not plan the accusation.”
“You brought the box downstairs.”
May you like
“She had been in my room.”
“You were wearing the bracelet afterward.”
