Chương 6
Conflicting claims.
Procedures.
Christopher had thrown boiling tea at her in front of twelve witnesses, but even that did not transform the rest of their marriage into a simple diagram.
Pike returned.
“He wants to show us something on his phone.”
Ruiz nodded.
“Bring it.”
Christopher came in carrying his phone with both hands.
He looked calmer.
Savannah disliked that most.
“Here.”
He handed the device to Ruiz.
“I have bank records.”
Ruiz studied the screen.
Savannah could not see it.
Christopher looked at her while Ruiz scrolled.
“You should’ve told them everything.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re telling them your version.”
Beatrice made a small irritated sound.
“Christopher, stop.”
He turned.
“What?”
“Just stop talking for one minute.”
The words seemed to surprise everyone.
Christopher stared at his mother.
Beatrice folded her hands tightly in her lap.
“I mean it.”
Christopher looked wounded.
“You’re taking her side now?”
“I’m taking nobody’s side.”
“You just said she approved the trip.”
“No, I said you told me she approved it.”
“That’s what I meant.”
“That is not what you meant.”
Savannah watched Beatrice.
Her voice was still controlled, but the usual polish had cracked.
Christopher looked away first.
Ruiz handed his phone back.
“The records show a three-thousand-dollar transfer to Savannah twelve years ago.”
Christopher nodded.
“Exactly.”
“They do not show an ownership purchase.”
“We were together.”
Ruiz blinked.
“That doesn’t make it equity.”
Christopher’s face flushed.
“I also supported her.”
Savannah almost spoke.
Then she did not.
Something about his desperation made her wait.
“I drove her to meetings,” he continued.
“I helped her move equipment.”
“You carried two monitors once,” Savannah said.
Christopher pointed at her.
“There.”
Savannah laughed before she could stop herself.
“What?”
“You carried two monitors.”
“That’s not the only thing I did.”
“You complained for three days because one scratched your trunk.”
“I gave up opportunities for you.”
“What opportunities?”
“You know what opportunities.”
“No.”
He stared at her.
The silence stretched.
Pike looked down.
Ruiz waited.
Christopher finally said, “My business.”
Savannah’s face went still.
“Your business started four years after mine.”
“And I could have expanded earlier.”
“You didn’t have a business earlier.”
“I had plans.”
Beatrice rubbed her forehead.
“Christopher.”
He ignored her.
“I stayed local because of Savannah.”
Savannah felt an old, almost forgotten anger rise.
“You stayed local because the bank rejected your second loan application.”
“That’s not why.”
“It is exactly why.”
“You never believed in me.”
Savannah stared at him.
There it was.
Not Europe.
Not forty thousand dollars.
Not the house.
Something older.
Christopher’s grievance had been fermenting quietly for years, fed by every difference between what Savannah built and what he believed he deserved.
Ruiz seemed to recognize that the conversation had moved beyond anything useful.
“All right.”
She held up both hands.
“We are not resolving a twelve-year financial dispute in this kitchen.”
Christopher opened his mouth.
“No.”
Ruiz’s tone hardened.
“We’re done with that part.”
She looked at Savannah.
“We have enough to address what happened today.”
Christopher’s confidence slipped again.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I need you to turn around.”
Beatrice stood so quickly the stool scraped across the floor.
Savannah’s body went cold.
Christopher laughed.
“No.”
Pike moved beside him.
“Sir.”
“You’re arresting me?”
Ruiz stepped forward.
“Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“For what?”
“Domestic assault.”
Christopher looked at Savannah.
The expression on his face was not fear yet.
It was disbelief.
“You did this.”
Savannah’s throat tightened.
“I didn’t throw the mug.”
“You set me up.”
“You called the police.”
“You knew how this would look.”
Pike took Christopher’s wrist.
Christopher jerked away.
Not hard.
Enough.
Pike immediately changed his grip.
“Do not pull away.”
Beatrice covered her mouth.
Christopher’s face changed at last.
The arrogance disappeared.
“Mom.”
The word sounded young.
Beatrice took one step forward and stopped.
“Don’t fight them.”
“I’m not fighting.”
“Then stop moving.”
Savannah had never heard Beatrice speak to him like that.
Pike secured one wrist, then the other.
The click of the handcuffs was quieter than Savannah expected.
Christopher looked down at them.
His breathing became uneven.
“This is insane.”
Ruiz began explaining what would happen next.
Christopher barely listened.
His eyes remained on Savannah.
“You’re going to regret this.”
Ruiz stopped.
“Do not threaten her.”
“I’m talking to my wife.”
“You are talking to the alleged victim in an active domestic assault case.”
Christopher’s mouth closed.
Savannah hated the word victim.
It seemed to shrink her into the worst five minutes of her marriage.
She touched the edge of the dressing on her cheek.
The paramedic had warned her not to.
She did it anyway.
Ruiz asked Christopher whether he needed shoes.
He looked down at his bare feet as if noticing them for the first time.
Beatrice whispered, “His loafers are by the back door.”
Pike retrieved them.
Christopher could not put them on with his hands restrained, so Pike loosened one cuff while Ruiz watched.
The ordinariness of the moment was almost unbearable.
A grown man putting on loafers before being taken to jail.
Beatrice standing beside a bowl of lemons.
Savannah’s laptop still displaying a muted notification from the executive board.
Tea drying on white marble.
No music.
No thunder.
No cinematic justice.
Just forms and shoes and somebody’s refrigerator beginning its ice cycle.
Christopher straightened after the second shoe.
He looked at Savannah again.
This time his voice was quiet.
“Call Mark.”
Savannah frowned.
“What?”
“Call Mark Ellison.”
“Why?”
Christopher smiled faintly.
“Because if you think the three-thousand-dollar transfer is the only record I have, you haven’t found everything.”
Ruiz led him toward the foyer.
Savannah stood frozen.
Beatrice turned toward her.
“What does that mean?”
Savannah did not answer.
She was already reaching for her phone.
Mark answered on the fourth ring.
“Savannah?”
His voice was cautious, not sleepy, and that told her he had already heard something.
May you like
She stepped away from Beatrice and walked toward the breakfast room windows.
“Christopher told me to call you.”
