Chương 5
I enlarged the photograph.
My pulse changed.
Evan had not merely taken Caleb’s case after my call.
He was already on the vacation.
And suddenly the week Caleb had described as a harmless family trip looked like something else entirely.
I stared at Evan’s face until the photograph blurred beneath my thumb.
He was wearing a pale linen shirt I had seen him wear at our anniversary dinner the previous summer.
That dinner had been Caleb’s idea because Mercer Ridge had just landed its largest commercial contract.
Evan had raised a glass to “good partnerships.”
At the time, I had believed he meant business.
I sent the screenshot to Marcus.
He called less than two minutes later.
“Where did you get this?”
“Diane posted it.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Send me the original link too.”
I did.
Marcus was silent for several seconds.
“Claire, do not contact Evan.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not contact Caleb about Evan either.”
That made me sit straighter.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know what Evan believes he is representing and when that representation began.”
I looked again at the photograph.
“So this matters.”
“It may.”
“You always say may.”
“That is because adults pay me not to turn uncertainty into theater.”
Under different circumstances, I might have smiled.
Instead I asked, “Was he invited on the trip?”
“I don’t know.”
“Caleb never mentioned him.”
“That is more interesting than whether he was invited.”
The cereal in front of me had gone soft.
I pushed it farther away.
“What exactly should I do?”
“For the next hour, nothing.”
“I’m becoming very good at that.”
“No, you’re becoming very bad at waiting.”
He was right, which annoyed me.
“Marcus.”
“Yes?”
“Do you think they planned this trip around me?”
“I think we need evidence before we decide what they planned.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know.”
I pressed my lips together.
He continued more gently.
“If Evan has been advising Caleb about business restructuring, that is one issue.”
“And if he was advising him about the house?”
“Potentially another.”
“And if he knew I wasn’t informed?”
“Another.”
I looked at the photograph again.
Caleb was not smiling.
Everyone else at the table looked relaxed, but he was staring at his phone with his shoulders slightly hunched.
Maybe he had been reading my refusal.
Maybe Evan had been sitting beside him helping decide what to say next.
The possibility made my skin prickle.
“Claire.”
“I’m here.”
“Do not delete anything.”
“I won’t.”
“And please eat something that has not dissolved.”
I looked at the cereal.
“How do you know?”
“I was married for thirty-eight years.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“It answers most questions about abandoned breakfast.”
He hung up before I could respond.
I poured the cereal into the sink and made toast instead.
The smell made me nauseated, so I ate half of it standing beside the counter.
At nine fifteen, I received an email from Caleb.
It was formal enough that I knew someone had helped write it.
CLAIRE, I WANT TO KEEP THIS FROM ESCALATING.
I HAVE NO INTEREST IN FIGHTING WITH YOU, ESPECIALLY RIGHT NOW.
THE BUSINESS TRANSACTIONS YOU ARE QUESTIONING WERE MADE IN SUPPORT OF OPERATIONS AND FUTURE GROWTH.
YOUR ACTIONS ARE HARMING THE COMPANY AND OUR EMPLOYEES.
PLEASE RESTORE NORMAL ACCESS TO THE ACCOUNTS AND CONFIRM THAT I WILL BE ABLE TO ENTER OUR HOME WHEN I RETURN.
WE CAN DISCUSS EVERYTHING PRIVATELY WHEN WE ARE BOTH CALMER.
I read the phrase especially right now three times.
It managed to make my pregnancy sound both medically fragile and intellectually disqualifying.
I forwarded the email to Marcus.
Then I opened the accounting records again.
If Caleb was claiming Brooke’s payments supported operations, I wanted to see whether any expense descriptions connected to actual projects.
I searched her name across invoices, vendor records, calendar entries, and internal correspondence.
Nothing.
Then I searched the word consultation.
There were nineteen payments over fourteen months.
The first four were small.
The next seven increased gradually.
The most recent transfer was twelve thousand dollars.
My mouth went dry.
I had seen the amount before.
I had simply failed to understand what it meant.
The transfer had occurred eleven days earlier.
The day after Caleb asked me, casually over dinner, whether I had ever considered simplifying the ownership structure of the company.
He had been cutting chicken on his plate when he said it.
“No,” I had answered.
He shrugged.
“Might make things easier down the road.”
“For what?”
“Growth.”
I had asked what kind of growth.
He said he was just thinking out loud.
Now I pulled the bank record closer.
The twelve-thousand-dollar payment to Brooke was followed forty-eight hours later by a wire to a newly created company called Ridgepoint Development Group.
The name was bland enough to disappear into a spreadsheet.
I clicked the supporting documentation.
Access denied.
I tried again.
Same result.
My chest tightened.
The account permission showed that the document had been uploaded by Caleb.
The administrator was Evan Price.
I called Marcus.
He answered with, “You were supposed to do nothing.”
“I did something.”
“Of course you did.”
“There’s another company.”
That changed his tone.
“What company?”
“Ridgepoint Development Group.”
I gave him the details.
He asked me to spell the name.
Then he asked for the date of formation.
“I don’t know.”
“Do not guess.”
“I’m not guessing.”
“Good.”
I could hear a keyboard on his end.
“Can you access formation records?”
“Not through our internal system.”
“Don’t force anything.”
“I wasn’t going to hack the Pentagon.”
“With you, my standards for reassurance are changing.”
I paced toward the living room.
“Evan is listed as administrator on the uploaded supporting document.”
The typing stopped.
“Send me screenshots.”
I did.
“Anything else?”
“There was a transfer to Ridgepoint two days after Brooke got twelve thousand.”
“How much?”
“Thirty-eight thousand.”
Another silence.
“Was it approved?”
“Not by me.”
“Do the company bylaws require your approval at that amount?”
May you like
“Yes.”
“You’re certain?”
