Chương 11
She had pink-framed glasses and called me honey even after reading my chart.
“Pain level?”
“Four.”
She looked at me.
“Real number.”
“Six.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She handed me two pills.
“You people always lie downward.”
“What people?”
“People who think pain is an exam.”
I swallowed the medication.
She checked the IV.
“My husband lies upward.”
“Why?”
“He likes attention.”
“That seems efficient.”
“He is exhausting.”
She smiled.
“Still married thirty-eight years.”
I did not know what to say to that.
She patted the rail of the bed and left.
I lay awake afterward thinking about permanence.
People talked about marriage as though duration proved something.
Sometimes it probably did.
Sometimes staying might only mean nobody had left yet.
The next morning, Dr. Reed told me I could likely go home within two days if I continued improving.
“Home where?” I asked.
He paused.
“My sister’s.”
Nora answered from the window.
He nodded.
“That works.”
I looked at her.
“You didn’t ask.”
“You were going to stay with me.”
“I might have wanted a hotel.”
“You hate hotels.”
“I hate your guest mattress.”
“That mattress is supportive.”
“That mattress is plywood with aspirations.”
Dr. Reed laughed before he could stop himself.
Nora looked offended.
“Everyone in this hospital is rude.”
The ordinary exchange helped until he turned serious again.
“No lifting more than ten pounds.”
“For how long?”
“At least six weeks.”
“No driving while you’re taking the stronger medication.”
“Fine.”
“Watch for fever, increasing pain, drainage, redness, vomiting.”
“I know.”
“And emotionally.”
He hesitated.
“I’m not going to give you a speech.”
“Thank you.”
“But pregnancy loss after trauma can land later.”
I looked down at my hands.
“It already landed.”
“Sometimes it lands twice.”
That was a very doctor way to say it.
I nodded.
He left without offering comfort he could not manufacture.
An hour later, Daniel called Nora rather than me.
The board had formally opened an independent investigation.
Outside auditors had traced three of the suspicious transfers through a shell company in Delaware.
The beneficial owner was obscured behind another entity.
But one address appeared on incorporation paperwork.
A condominium building in Boston.
I sat upright too quickly.
Pain pulled beneath my ribs.
“February fourteenth,” I said.
Nora looked at me.
“What?”
“Flynn told me he was in Boston on Valentine’s Day.”
She relayed it to Daniel.
He went quiet on speakerphone.
Then he said, “Flynn was in Boston.”
My stomach tightened.
“Company trip?”
“Yes.”
“With who?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Selina.”
Nora’s head snapped toward the phone.
I stopped breathing for a second.
Daniel continued quickly.
“It was a foundation meeting.”
“On Valentine’s Day?”
“It had been scheduled around another event.”
“Did they stay at the same hotel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Daniel.”
“I don’t know.”
He sounded genuinely miserable.
I pressed my hand against the blanket.
“Did Flynn authorize the Delaware company?”
“No.”
“Does he know about it?”
“As of this morning.”
“How did he react?”
Daniel took a breath.
“He looked like he’d never seen the name before.”
That should have reassured me.
It did not.
“Could he be pretending?”
“Yes.”
“Could Selina have set it up?”
“Yes.”
“Could someone else?”
“Yes.”
I almost laughed.
Everyone had become Detective Ruiz.
Daniel continued.
“There’s another problem.”
“Of course there is.”
“The shell company received money from one account we believed was yours.”
“Believed?”
“The account was opened using your personal information.”
My hands went cold.
“I never opened an account.”
“We know.”
“How?”
“The signature card was electronic.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“No.”
“The identity verification used a scanned copy of your driver’s license.”
My mouth dried.
“Where would anyone get that?”
Nora and I looked at each other.
My wallet.
My files.
My house.
Selina had possessed a key for eight months.
“When was the account opened?” I asked.
“Last March.”
That was nearly a year ago.
A year of visits I had not known about.
A year of access.
A year of preparing something.
“What bank?”
Daniel told me.
I recognized it.
Flynn used the same institution for several private investments.
“Who initiated the verification?”
“We’re requesting records.”
“From what device?”
“Same.”
“IP address?”
“We don’t have it yet.”
“When you do, call my attorney.”
Daniel went silent.
Then he said, “Mabel.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For which part?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
Neither did I.
That afternoon, Ruiz arrived with less patience than usual.
She had been awake too long.
I could see it in the shadows beneath her eyes.
“We brought Selina in for another interview.”
My pulse jumped.
“Arrested?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because possessing copies of financial records is not the same as committing fraud, and because I prefer arrests that survive first contact with a defense attorney.”
Nora nodded reluctantly.
“What did she say?”
Ruiz pulled up the chair.
“She denies opening any account in your name.”
“Of course.”
“She denies altering the files.”
“Of course.”
“She says the storage boxes were given to her by Flynn.”
That surprised me.
“All of them?”
“She says yes.”
“Why?”
“She claims he asked her to help organize records related to a private investigation.”
“Into what?”
“You.”
I stared at her.
“Me?”
“According to Selina, Flynn suspected you were hiding money from him.”
The words felt almost comical.
I had given up a career that paid me more than most executives earned.
I had signed a prenup without complaint.
I had never hidden so much as a credit card bill.
“Why would he suspect that?”
“Selina says you were preparing to leave him.”
Nora made a disgusted sound.
Ruiz continued.
“She claims Flynn asked her to quietly collect information because he didn’t want to confront you without proof.”
I stared at the wall.
“Did he?”
“We asked him.”
“And?”
“He admitted giving Selina access to some records.”
A pressure started behind my eyes.
“He investigated me.”
“He says he believed you were moving assets.”
“Why?”
“Because Selina showed him account statements.”
There it was.
The mechanism.
Not one lie.
May you like
A sequence.
Manufactured evidence first.
