Chương 9
I looked at Julian.
“Seven thousand.”
The silence on the other end stretched.
Then Nathan said something quietly that I could not make out.
“What?”
“Put him on.”
Julian shook his head.
“No.”
I stared at him.
Nathan heard me.
“Is he refusing?”
“Yes.”
“Put me on speaker.”
I did.
Nathan’s voice filled the kitchen.
“Jules.”
Julian said nothing.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Nathan was not there, but the old brotherly command still worked.
Julian looked toward the phone.
“What?”
“Did you use company money?”
“I didn’t know it was company money when I spent it.”
Nathan made a sound like he had been punched.
“You knew there was a reimbursement pending.”
“I thought that deposit was mine.”
“From what?”
“Back pay.”
“We don’t owe you back pay.”
“I thought the adjustment from February—”
“That adjustment was eighteen hundred dollars.”
“I know that now.”
Nathan’s voice rose.
“You are an operations consultant.”
Julian’s face tightened.
“You review payment reports.”
“I don’t review my own reimbursements.”
“You looked at twenty thousand dollars appearing in your private bank account and thought, great, must be mine?”
“I screwed up.”
“That is not a screwup.”
“Nate.”
“That is not forgetting to submit mileage.”
Nathan was breathing hard now.
“This can get me audited internally.”
“I’ll return it.”
“With what?”
“I have thirteen thousand.”
“And the other seven?”
“I’ll get it.”
“How?”
Julian said nothing.
Nathan laughed once, harshly.
“Of course.”
“I can sell some things.”
“What things?”
“My car.”
I looked at him.
The SUV in the driveway was jointly titled.
He saw my expression.
“Forget that.”
“Yes.”
Nathan said, “Tomorrow morning, I’m calling our controller.”
Julian went pale.
“Nate.”
“I have to.”
“Give me two days.”
“No.”
“One day.”
“No.”
“You know what happens if this goes formal.”
“I know what happens if I hide it.”
Julian ran both hands through his hair.
“You’re my brother.”
“That’s why this is worse.”
Nathan’s voice broke slightly.
“You put me in a position where every choice hurts somebody.”
Julian looked toward the phone.
“I can fix it.”
“You already tried.”
Silence.
Nathan continued more quietly.
“Do not move the money tonight.”
Julian frowned.
“What?”
“Do not transfer anything.”
“I was going to send it back.”
“No.”
Nathan’s tone became firm.
“Leave it where it is until I speak to the controller and our accountant.”
“Why?”
“Because now I need a clean record of what happened.”
Julian’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Nathan said, “And Jules?”
“What?”
“Do not delete emails.”
“I’m not an idiot.”
Nathan was silent for a beat.
“That’s not the reassurance you think it is.”
The call ended.
Julian stared at the phone.
I took it off speaker.
Neither of us moved.
Finally, he picked up the cake.
“I guess I should go.”
I looked at him.
“Where?”
“The apartment.”
The word still felt foreign.
“Fine.”
He walked toward the door.
Then I noticed something.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
I looked at the duffel bag.
“When did you pack that?”
“What?”
“You were upstairs for ten minutes.”
“So?”
“You had clothes already folded.”
His face went blank.
I had seen the corner of a packed toiletry case when he set the bag down.
Not thrown together.
Packed.
Ready.
My stomach tightened.
“You were planning to leave tonight.”
Julian said nothing.
“Before the party?”
Still nothing.
I stepped toward him.
“Before I took that microphone, were you already leaving me tonight?”
His fingers tightened around the cake box.
“Yes.”
The answer barely made a sound.
I stared at him.
“What were you going to tell me?”
His eyes dropped.
“Tomorrow.”
“You were going to disappear after your birthday party and tell me tomorrow?”
“I was going to leave a note.”
For the first time all night, I felt something inside me become completely still.
Not broken.
Not enraged.
Finished.
I walked past him and opened the front door.
“Get out.”
“Claire.”
“Take your cake.”
He stood there another second.
Then he stepped outside.
I closed the door before he reached the driveway.
I locked it.
My hands were shaking.
Through the narrow pane of glass beside the door, I watched him put the duffel bag in the back of his SUV.
He placed the cake carefully on the passenger seat.
Even then, he did not want to ruin the frosting.
He sat behind the wheel for nearly a minute before starting the engine.
I stayed where I was until the taillights disappeared.
Then I walked back into the kitchen and saw the envelope from the financial institution lying where I had left it that morning.
For the first time, I noticed the second page beneath the statement.
There was a line I had not read carefully before the party.
A transfer had been scheduled for the following Monday.
Thirteen thousand dollars.
Destination account ending in 4418.
The same amount Julian had just told Nathan remained untouched.
I stared at the page.
The transfer was not headed back to Nathan’s company.
It was headed somewhere else.
I read the number twice, then a third time, as if repetition might turn it into something ordinary.
It did not.
The transfer was dated for Monday at 9:00 a.m.
The destination account had no name printed beside it.
Only four digits.
4418.
I picked up my phone and called Julian.
He answered on the second ring.
“What?”
Not hello.
Not Claire.
Just what.
“Cancel the transfer.”
Silence.
Then, “What transfer?”
My pulse kicked hard.
“Thirteen thousand dollars scheduled for Monday.”
Another silence.
Longer this time.
“Where are you?”
I asked.
“Driving.”
“Pull over.”
“Claire.”
“Pull over.”
“I’m not doing this while you interrogate me.”
“You told Nathan the money was still there.”
“It is.”
“No, it’s scheduled to leave.”
He exhaled sharply.
“It hasn’t left.”
“Where is it going?”
“Nowhere.”
“4418.”
His breathing changed.
That tiny shift told me everything I needed to know.
“You know that account.”
“I said I’m driving.”
“Whose account is it?”
May you like
“Cancel the transfer if you’re so worried.”
“I can’t.”
