Chương 11
Rebecca whispered, "Wow."
Julian immediately tried to reshape it.
"With implied consent."
"No."
"Sloan."
"No."
"I have handled our finances since we got married."
"Paying the mortgage isn't permission to impersonate me."
"I wasn't impersonating you."
"You wrote my name."
"For administrative forms."
"Business filings too?"
His eyes sharpened.
That was the first confirmation I needed.
"Mercer Coastal Management."
He looked at Rebecca.
She smiled coldly.
"Don't look at me."
"Sloan found it."
Julian stepped closer to the door.
"Listen to me."
"No."
"That company was created to hold property that already belonged to the family."
"Then why am I a member?"
"Tax reasons."
"Which tax reasons?"
He hesitated.
I almost laughed.
"That's what I thought."
"Sloan, this is complicated."
"Everything becomes complicated when you need me to stop asking questions."
His face changed again.
The patience finally cracked.
"You want the truth?"
"Yes."
"No, you want a villain."
I stared at him.
"You've been sitting in there with Rebecca building a version of me you can hate."
"No."
"You found papers without context."
"You stole invitations."
His lips parted.
"You lied to your mother."
He said nothing.
"You lied to our children."
Nothing.
"You told Leo I blocked Eleanor."
His eyes moved away.
"You told Lily her grandmother didn't send birthday gifts."
His jaw tightened.
"You took money from accounts meant for them."
"I invested it."
"You forged my signature."
"I handled paperwork."
"And you bought property in a company with my name on it."
"Charles bought that property."
"Then why is my name on it?"
Julian's control slipped completely.
"Because it couldn't be in mine."
The street seemed to go silent.
Even Rebecca stopped breathing.
"Why not?"
He realized what he had said.
I walked closer to the door.
"Why couldn't it be in your name?"
His face went still.
Then he stepped back from the glass.
"Sloan."
"Answer me."
"Because there were restrictions."
"What restrictions?"
"My father's estate plan."
"What did Charles know?"
Julian rubbed both hands over his face.
The gesture was so ordinary that for half a second he looked like the man who came home exhausted after work and complained about traffic.
Then he said, "More than he should have."
Rebecca moved beside me.
"What the hell does that mean?"
Julian looked at her with naked dislike.
"You always adored him."
"No, I didn't."
"You absolutely did."
"He terrified me."
"You still defended him."
"From you?"
"From everybody."
Rebecca's voice dropped.
"Did Dad catch you stealing?"
Julian laughed.
It sounded exhausted.
"Of course that's how Grant tells it."
"Grant didn't tell me."
Rebecca pointed upstairs.
"Your notebook did."
His face changed.
"You read all of it?"
"Enough."
"Then you saw Dad's handwriting."
"Yes."
For several seconds, brother and sister stared at each other through the glass.
Then Julian looked at me.
"Charles helped create the separation."
"I saw that."
"He wanted you away from Hilton Head."
"Why?"
"Because he was afraid you'd ask questions."
"About Mercer?"
"About everything."
"What was everything?"
Julian looked toward the street.
A dog barked somewhere down the block.
Mrs. Alvarez's porch light remained on.
"I won't explain my father's business from the sidewalk."
"Then leave."
His eyes snapped back to mine.
"You really want that?"
"Tonight, yes."
"What about tomorrow?"
I almost said I didn't know.
Instead, I said, "Tomorrow depends on what you tell me tonight."
He studied me.
Then he reached into his coat again.
This time I did not move.
He pulled out a thick manila envelope.
"I didn't take Mom's files to destroy them."
Rebecca laughed sharply.
"No one said destroy."
Julian ignored her.
"I took copies because there are documents Martin doesn't know exist."
"What documents?"
"Records Charles kept off the books."
"Mercer?"
"Partly."
He slid the envelope through the narrow mail slot at the bottom of the door.
It landed on the hardwood.
Rebecca moved toward it.
"Don't."
I stopped her.
Julian watched.
"I brought that for Sloan."
Rebecca folded her arms.
"Very ceremonial."
I picked it up.
The envelope was sealed.
My name was written across the front in Julian's handwriting.
"What is it?"
"Copies."
"Of?"
"Transfers."
I did not open it yet.
"From the trusts?"
"Some."
"Where did the money go?"
"Mercer."
"Why?"
"Because Mercer owed me."
Rebecca barked a laugh.
"Owed you?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
Julian looked at her.
"Keeping quiet."
The words changed the temperature of the hall.
"About Charles?"
I asked.
He nodded once.
Rebecca stepped closer.
"Keeping quiet about what?"
Julian's expression became almost pitying.
"Ask Mom why Maren has a Vance trust."
Rebecca froze.
I remembered Eleanor's hesitation.
Charles had supported Maren after her mother's death.
The townhouse.
The beach invitations.
The boy in the photograph.
"What does Maren have to do with your father?"
Julian leaned against the porch railing.
For the first time since arriving, he looked tired rather than angry.
"Her mother was named Denise Mercer."
Rebecca swallowed.
"I remember Denise."
"So do I."
"She worked for Dad before Maren."
"She did more than work for him."
Rebecca stared.
"No."
Julian said nothing.
"Oh, no."
"What?"
I looked between them.
Rebecca's face had gone white.
"Denise was around when we were kids."
"Who was she?"
"My father's assistant."
Rebecca's voice sounded far away.
"She traveled with him."
Julian added, "For seventeen years."
I looked at the photograph still open on my phone.
Maren's dark hair.
Her narrow face.
Something in the shape of her eyes that I had not known enough to recognize.
"Was Maren Charles's daughter?"
Julian did not answer.
Rebecca whispered, "Was she?"
"Charles never admitted it publicly."
"Did Mom know?"
"Eventually."
Rebecca stepped back as though struck.
"No."
"Yes."
"You're lying."
"I wish."
"Mom would've left him."
"Would she?"
Rebecca's face crumpled for half a second, then hardened again.
"You don't know what she would have done."
"I watched what she did."
"What?"
"She protected him."
The accusation sat differently coming from Julian.
Not because I trusted him.
May you like
Because I believed he believed it.
"When Denise got sick, Charles started moving assets into Mercer."
