Chương 11
“Of course she did.”
“She sounds bossy.”
“She is.”
“Good.”
Carmen smiled.
“You look like you need bossy.”
I dried my face.
The ordinary kindness nearly undid me.
“Thank you.”
“For the towel?”
“For not asking.”
She nodded.
“People ask enough.”
The funeral home arrived at eleven.
I signed papers I did not remember reading.
A man named Daniel spoke in a low professional voice about transportation, cremation options, certificates, and timelines.
I answered.
My mother had already prepaid most of it.
That was painfully like her.
She had left instructions in a blue folder labeled DON’T MAKE THIS WEIRD.
I found it in her overnight bag.
Inside, beneath the funeral home documents, she had written a note to Megan and me.
No church.
No lilies.
No speeches from people who haven’t called me in five years.
If someone insists on singing, stop them.
Megan arrived shortly after noon and read the note twice.
Then she sat beside me on the hospice bed after they had taken our mother away.
“She really wrote this.”
“Apparently she was concerned about singing.”
“She knew Aunt Patricia.”
I laughed.
Megan looked at my face.
Her expression changed.
“Show me.”
“I’m fine.”
“Show me.”
She had the same tone our mother used.
I turned my cheek toward her.
The bruise had darkened along the jaw.
Megan went silent.
That was worse than yelling.
“Say something.”
“I’m trying not to commit a felony.”
“Very mature.”
“I flew across the country on two hours of sleep.”
“That is not a legal defense.”
“Depends on the jury.”
She stood and paced toward the window.
“Did he apologize?”
“Yes.”
“Did you accept?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he said the words and I heard them.”
Megan turned.
“That is not forgiveness.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Are you going back?”
“I don’t know.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
“Alex.”
“What?”
“He hit you.”
“I know.”
“In front of people.”
“I know.”
“For another woman.”
“I know.”
“Then what is there to think about?”
I looked at the empty bed.
“Everything.”
Megan stared at me.
Then some of the fury left her face.
“Okay.”
I rubbed my hands together.
“He admitted something with Laura.”
Megan went still.
“What kind of something?”
“Messages.”
“Sex?”
“He says no.”
“You believe him?”
“I don’t know.”
She sat again.
“Jesus.”
“There’s also money missing.”
Megan closed her eyes.
“Of course there is.”
“Almost nine hundred thousand.”
Her eyes opened.
“What?”
“From the investment account.”
“Alex.”
“I know.”
“Do you have your own money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That was not convincing.”
“I have an account in my name.”
“How much?”
“About eighty thousand.”
Megan stared at me.
“You live in a house with a wine cellar bigger than my apartment and you have eighty thousand dollars that is actually yours.”
“I have access to more.”
“Access is not ownership.”
“I know that now.”
She looked furious again.
Not at me.
Maybe a little at me.
“You gave up school for him.”
“I chose to.”
“You gave up your job.”
“I chose that too.”
“Stop making his choices sound like yours.”
“They were mine.”
She recoiled slightly.
I heard my own sharpness.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
Megan shook her head.
“You’re right.”
She folded her arms.
“I hate that you’re right, but you are.”
We sat without speaking.
A lawn mower started somewhere outside.
The sound felt offensively normal.
Then my phone rang.
Margaret.
I answered.
“Megan is here.”
“Good.”
Her voice sounded different.
Tighter.
“What happened?”
“We found the folder.”
I looked at Megan.
She could tell immediately.
“What folder?”
“The one Laura mentioned.”
“What was in it?”
“Copies of wire authorizations.”
My stomach tightened.
“For LM Strategic?”
“Yes.”
“Signed by Elijah?”
“Some.”
I closed my eyes.
“What does some mean?”
“It means three have his electronic authorization.”
“And the others?”
“Two were approved through delegated credentials.”
“Whose credentials?”
“Yours.”
I stood so quickly the chair legs scraped the floor.
“What?”
Megan was on her feet.
I held up one finger.
“Say that again.”
“Two transfers appear to have been approved through credentials assigned to you.”
“That is impossible.”
“I believe you.”
“You believe me because you like me.”
“No.”
Margaret’s voice sharpened.
“I believe you because one authorization was entered while you were attending my orthopedic surgery in Palo Alto.”
I remembered that day.
Margaret sedated and furious because the nurse confiscated her reading glasses.
I had sat beside her for nine hours.
“Elijah knows I was there.”
“Yes.”
“Does the audit committee?”
“They will.”
“Then this clears me.”
“Not exactly.”
The words chilled me.
“Why not?”
“Because the credentials were valid.”
“Someone used my password?”
“More than that.”
“What more?”
“A security token.”
I stopped breathing.
I had a physical token once.
A small black device from the family office.
I had kept it in the desk drawer at home because I never used it.
My voice came out slowly.
“Where is the token registered to me?”
“That is what we are trying to determine.”
“I had one.”
“Where?”
“In the study.”
Margaret went quiet.
“Your house.”
“Yes.”
“Who knew?”
“Elijah.”
“Anyone else?”
I thought about housekeepers, assistants, contractors, family office staff.
Then another memory surfaced.
Laura standing inside our study three months earlier.
She had come to the house with Elijah after a charity dinner because he needed a contract he claimed was on his desk.
I had found her alone in the room while he took a call outside.
She said she was looking for the bathroom.
At the time, I had believed that was simply another thing about her that irritated me.
“Laura.”
Megan’s head snapped toward me.
Margaret did not speak.
I sat down slowly.
“She was in the study.”
“When?”
“June.”
“Alone?”
“For maybe two minutes.”
“Did you see her touch the desk?”
“No.”
“Then don’t turn suspicion into fact.”
The warning irritated me.
It also steadied me.
“Fine.”
I looked at Megan.
She mouthed, What?
I shook my head.
May you like
“Where is Elijah?”
“On the jet.”
