Chương 12
The distinction did not help.
Eleanor reached for her purse.
“I’m leaving.”
Julian turned toward her.
“Mom.”
“I am not staying in a house where people are photographing Sloan from cars.”
“You shouldn’t drive upset.”
She gave him a look so cold that he stopped speaking.
“I have survived two husbands, a hysterectomy, and you.”
She put her glasses into their case.
“I can manage eight miles of suburban traffic.”
She walked toward the door.
I followed her.
At the threshold, she stopped.
For a moment I thought she was going to apologize again.
Instead she looked at me carefully.
“Do not stay here tonight.”
Julian heard her.
“Mom.”
She ignored him.
“I mean it.”
Then she left.
I watched her get into her sedan and lock the doors before starting the engine.
The small action disturbed me more than the dramatic ones.
Eleanor had never locked a car door until after pulling away.
She had always complained that people were paranoid.
Now she checked both mirrors twice.
Graham handed Darcy his card.
“I’ll notify compliance.”
Darcy studied it.
He nodded.
Then he looked at Julian.
“You need to understand something.”
Julian’s expression sharpened.
“What?”
“If those payment instructions did not come from us, Crescent will not automatically credit the money.”
Julian stared at him.
“You’re saying I still owe it?”
“I’m saying there will be an investigation.”
“I sent payments in good faith.”
“To an account that does not belong to us.”
“Using instructions I received during your loan process.”
“That matters.”
“Does it?”
Graham hesitated.
“Yes.”
Julian laughed bitterly.
“Comforting.”
Graham did not respond.
He left.
Darcy shut the front door and locked it.
Then she locked the deadbolt.
I noticed because Eleanor had made me notice locks.
Julian sat on the stairs again.
I remained standing in the foyer.
Darcy looked between us.
“We need to separate three problems.”
Julian looked up.
“Only three?”
She ignored him.
“First, Sloan’s identity and property documents may have been misused.”
I felt my shoulders tighten.
“Second, Julian’s loan and payments may involve fraud.”
Julian rubbed his palms together.
“And third?”
“Someone is attempting to intimidate or influence one or both of you.”
He looked at the message again.
“I’m calling Tessa.”
“No,” Darcy said.
“She might know what this is.”
“Which is exactly why you do not call her impulsively.”
“You think she sent it?”
“I think we know very little.”
“I slept with her.”
Darcy looked at him.
“That does not make you a reliable investigator.”
He stood.
“I know her.”
I heard myself say, “Apparently not.”
The sentence came out before I could stop it.
Julian flinched.
I hated that part of me enjoyed it.
Then I hated myself for enjoying it.
He looked at me for several seconds.
“You’re right.”
The easy surrender disarmed me.
I looked away.
He put the phone down on the entry table.
“I don’t know her.”
Nobody spoke.
The wall clock in the living room ticked loudly.
It had been a wedding gift from his aunt.
I had always thought it was ugly.
That morning its sound was unbearable.
Darcy moved us into the kitchen.
She had me use my laptop only after disconnecting it from the home Wi-Fi.
Then she made me change passwords through my phone’s cellular connection.
Banking.
Email.
Cloud storage.
The holding company account.
Retirement accounts.
Insurance portal.
Anything connected to property or money.
I had never realized how much of my life existed behind passwords until I had to replace all of them in one sitting.
Julian watched from the opposite end of the island.
“You should change your phone PIN too.”
I looked at him.
“How do you know it?”
He hesitated.
That was enough.
My stomach turned.
“Do you know it?”
“We’re married.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Yes.”
I changed it.
The action felt ridiculously intimate.
Four digits.
Years of trust reduced to four digits I no longer wanted him to know.
Julian turned away while I typed the new code.
Darcy noticed.
So did I.
At some point, the dishwasher beeped because the cycle had finished.
None of us moved to unload it.
The ordinary sound made me want to cry.
I remembered loading those dishes before work the previous morning.
A coffee mug.
Two plates.
The glass container Julian used for leftovers.
At the time, my biggest conscious problem had been deciding whether to confront him about the missing money before or after dinner.
Less than twenty-four hours later, I was changing passwords because someone had used my identity to support a loan connected to my husband’s mistress, an old private creditor, and a dead contractor.
I pressed both palms against my eyes.
Darcy stopped typing.
“Sloan.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“I know.”
That answer made her quiet.
Julian stood.
“I’ll make coffee.”
I looked at him.
He seemed surprised too.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
He laughed once, weakly.
“Apparently coffee is what my brain offered.”
I almost told him not to touch anything.
Instead I let him.
He measured grounds into the machine.
Filled the reservoir.
Spilled some water on the counter.
Wiped it with a dish towel.
For seven years, he had made coffee every Saturday morning because he woke earlier than I did.
Watching him perform the same motions while our marriage sat in pieces around us felt obscene and familiar at once.
Darcy’s phone rang.
She checked the screen and walked into the dining room to answer.
Julian and I were alone.
He stared at the coffee machine.
“I didn’t know about the fake email.”
I said nothing.
“I didn’t sign your name.”
I still said nothing.
“I know you have no reason to believe me.”
“That is the first accurate thing you’ve said in a while.”
His mouth tightened.
“Fair.”
The machine began dripping.
He watched it.
“I did take pictures of the documents.”
May you like
I looked at him.
“I gave Tessa access because she said Crescent needed proof of how the house was owned before they could structure anything.”
