Chương 10
Ryan: Relax.
Jessica: I mean it.
Ryan: They loved the view.
There was no message showing her agreeing.
There did not need to be.
She had apparently handed him the key anyway.
A month later, the tone changed.
Ryan: Bringing Kyle and Mark Saturday.
Jessica: Kids want to come.
Ryan: Fine.
Jessica: We leave it cleaner than we find it.
Ryan: Yes mom.
Then, in January:
Jessica: Emily said she might be back next month.
Ryan: She always says might.
Jessica: If she comes back unexpectedly we are screwed.
Ryan: For using a house nobody is using?
Jessica: Her house.
Ryan: Your sister’s house.
Jessica: Exactly.
The next line held me longer than the rest.
Ryan: Same difference.
I leaned back in the chair.
There it was.
Not ownership.
Something slipperier.
He did not seem to believe the house belonged to him in any literal sense.
He believed my relationship to Jessica made my ownership negotiable.
That explained his behavior better than some elaborate fraud.
It also made it feel more personal.
The later messages became sparse.
Several dates were missing.
I noticed because Jessica’s screenshots jumped from February to May.
I called her.
She answered quietly.
“Did you get them?”
“Yes.”
“Is that enough?”
“No.”
“What’s missing between February and May?”
Nothing.
“Jessica?”
“I’m looking.”
I heard movement and then a door closing.
“You deleted messages.”
“No.”
“You skipped them.”
She exhaled.
“I didn’t think they mattered.”
“Send them.”
“They’re about Ryan’s business.”
“That is exactly why they matter.”
“He was having problems.”
“With what?”
“Cash.”
I stared at the brochure on the table.
“What kind of problems?”
“He lost two jobs last winter.”
“I knew about one.”
“He didn’t want people knowing about the other.”
“Why?”
“He thought it would make him look unstable.”
The bitterness in her voice surprised me.
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Think he was unstable?”
A pause.
“I thought he was scared.”
That sounded more like Jessica than anything she had said all afternoon.
“What did he do?”
“He started trying to bring in bigger clients.”
“At my house.”
“Sometimes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Send the screenshots.”
She lowered her voice further.
“He’s in the kitchen.”
“Where are you?”
“My bedroom.”
“Does he know you’re talking to me?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of him?”
The silence changed.
Not long.
Heavy.
“No.”
I sat straighter.
“Jessica.”
“I’m not afraid he’ll hurt me.”
That was not the same answer.
“What are you afraid he’ll do?”
“Get angry.”
“He’s already angry.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“He’s been different since the business got bad.”
She sniffed once.
“Not violent.”
“I heard you.”
“He just gets... fixated.”
“On what?”
“Respect.”
The word landed with unpleasant accuracy.
“He thinks everybody looks down on him.”
“Does everybody?”
“Sometimes he gives them reasons.”
I said nothing.
Jessica continued before I could.
“He borrowed money.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know all of them.”
“How much?”
“Emily, please.”
“How much?”
“A lot.”
That narrowed nothing.
“More than what I lent you?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the kitchen wall clock.
The second hand clicked forward with absurd patience.
“Did he use the lake house as collateral?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly and firmly.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Did he claim to own it on paperwork?”
“I don’t think so.”
“That isn’t the same as sure.”
“I handled some of the bookkeeping last year.”
“You never told me that.”
“It was temporary.”
“So you saw contracts?”
“Some.”
“Invoices?”
“Yes.”
“Loan documents?”
“A few.”
“Did this address appear anywhere?”
She went quiet.
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Jessica.”
“Not as collateral.”
“As what?”
“An office.”
I stood so fast the chair legs scraped the floor.
“What?”
“It was only on one document.”
“What document?”
“A vendor application.”
“Why?”
“He needed an address.”
“He has an office.”
“He was between leases.”
“Then he should have used his home address.”
“He said that looked unprofessional.”
I walked to the window.
Evening had settled over the lake, turning the glass into a dark reflection of my own face.
“What company?”
“Barron Custom Millwork.”
“Send me the document.”
“I don’t have it.”
“How do you know about it?”
“I filled out part of the application.”
“You listed my home as his business address?”
“I typed what he told me.”
I pressed two fingers against the bridge of my nose.
“You knew it was my address.”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell the vendor he owned this place?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“He said it was a company retreat and temporary administrative location.”
A humorless laugh escaped me.
“That phrase again.”
“I told you he was trying to impress people.”
“Impressing people is not the same thing as putting my address on business documents.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She was crying again.
I regretted the question, but I did not take it back.
“I was trying to keep things together,” she said.
The sentence came out broken.
“Ryan was panicking, payroll was late twice, and every time I asked what was happening he said he had it under control.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
The honesty was immediate.
I sat back down.
“What happened to the money I gave you for the mortgage last year?”
“It paid the mortgage.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“And the twelve thousand for the business?”
Silence.
“That was for payroll, right?”
“That’s what he told me.”
“What did it actually pay?”
“I don’t know.”
For the first time that evening, I believed her ignorance completely.
It frightened me more than deception.
“How involved are you in the company finances now?”
“I’m not.”
“When did you stop?”
“March.”
“Why?”
“He changed the passwords.”
I stared at nothing.
“Why?”
“He said I was stressing him out by questioning every transaction.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“Don’t.”
The sharpness in her voice surprised me.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
She was right.
I was too tired to pretend otherwise.
“I’m concerned.”
“So am I.”
There it was.
Finally.
Not Ryan is upset.
Not don’t embarrass him.
Concern.
May you like
Real and unprotected.
“What do you think he’s hiding?”
