Chương 4
Roman almost laughed.
Natalie was an attorney Elena had known since college and had once described Roman, to his face, as a tax problem in an expensive coat.
The laugh never came.
Natalie traced one of the vendors to a corporate registration service in Delaware.
The registered contact number had been used once before on a lease application for an apartment in Jersey City.
The applicant was Daniel Cross.
Sabrina’s younger brother.
Roman went completely still.
Daniel Cross had been dead for four years.
At least that was what Sabrina had told everyone.
An overdose in Arizona.
Private cremation.
No service.
Roman had sent flowers to her mother.
He read on.
Before you decide that means Daniel is alive, it may not.
The apartment application is six years old.
The phone number could have been recycled.
The company could be using old information.
There are innocent explanations.
I am writing them down because you always tell me to separate what I know from what I fear.
Someone used your office credentials.
Money moved through a vendor linked to a number once associated with Daniel Cross.
Sabrina’s name appeared in an internal approval note.
Someone altered the estate access logs after she entered without authorization.
And last Tuesday, she asked me whether you still kept hard copies of the Baltic contracts in the library safe.
Roman’s eyes snapped toward the wall as if he could see through two floors and sixty feet of stone to the library.
The Baltic contracts were old.
Mostly irrelevant now.
Mostly.
One appendix contained the original ownership allocation of a freight consortium Roman had spent years untangling from his father’s organization.
There were names in it that would embarrass wealthy men.
There were two that could still ruin him.
He reached the bottom of the page.
I lied to Sabrina.
I told her you burned everything after your father died.
She smiled.
Then she asked whether the safe had ever been repaired after the flood.
Roman’s mouth went dry.
There had never been a flood.
There had been an electrical fire eight years earlier that damaged the safe’s keypad.
Only family and three employees knew that.
Sabrina had not been around then.
The second page began with a sentence pressed so deeply into the paper that Elena had nearly torn it with the pen.
This is the part I need you to understand, even if you hate me afterward.
I moved the contracts.
Roman was already on his feet.
I took them out of the library safe six days ago.
I did not destroy them.
I did not copy them.
I placed them somewhere Sabrina cannot reach without exposing exactly what she is looking for.
If I am wrong, I will return them and accept every awful thing you say about me.
If I am right, she will eventually discover they are missing.
When that happens, I believe she will try to make you think I took them for leverage.
Roman looked toward Elena’s empty closet.
His breathing slowed.
Not from calm.
From calculation.
The suitcase.
The abrupt departure.
The prenatal folder.
The few clothes.
No jewelry.
No documents except what she needed.
Nothing heavy enough to hide binders of contracts.
Sabrina had watched her pack.
Roman had watched her pack.
Elena had made sure they both did.
The letter continued.
That is why I cannot tell you where they are in this letter.
I know your instinct will be to confront her.
Please do not.
Watch first.
Check the access logs yourself.
Check Vincent’s approvals.
Check whether the credential used from your office originated on your desktop or was remotely authenticated.
Do not ask Sabrina about Daniel until you know whether Daniel matters.
And do not trust anyone merely because they have been loyal for a long time.
That includes people loyal to me.
Roman turned the page.
There were only six lines left.
He stared at them before reading.
I bought the shoes because our daughter kicked the first time while I was standing outside that little children’s store in Rye.
You were in Chicago.
I almost called you, but you were negotiating and I knew you would answer anyway, so I waited.
I thought I would give them to you at the hospital.
I thought we would laugh about how frightened we both were.
If this letter reaches you before then, please remember one thing.
Whatever you think I took from you, I was trying to keep something worse from being taken.
Roman lowered the page.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the low hum of the heating vent.
Then Sabrina called from downstairs.
“Roman?”
He folded the letter once.
Not along Elena’s original crease.
His fingers missed it.
He corrected the fold and slid the pages back into the envelope.
“Roman?”
Her footsteps came nearer.
He put the baby shoes back into the box and replaced the ribbon.
The bedroom door opened.
Sabrina leaned against the frame in dark trousers and a gray sweater.
She had changed out of Elena’s robe.
“Marco called me,” she said.
Roman looked up.
“Why?”
“He said you were trying to reach him.”
Roman set the box beside him.
“That’s interesting.”
Sabrina’s expression barely moved.
“What is?”
“That he called you.”
She gave a small shrug.
“He couldn’t get you.”
“My phone is in my hand.”
The silence changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
Sabrina crossed her arms.
“Maybe he meant earlier.”
“Maybe.”
Her eyes went to the white box.
“What did you find?”
Roman followed her gaze.
“Baby shoes.”
Something passed across her face.
It was gone too quickly for certainty.
“Cute,” she said.
Roman looked at her.
Sabrina smiled faintly.
“What?”
He stood.
“Nothing.”
“You’re being strange.”
“My wife left me yesterday.”
“Three days ago.”
Roman did not react.
Sabrina blinked.
Then she corrected herself.
“Sorry, it feels longer.”
He walked past her.
At the top of the stairs, he stopped.
May you like
“Were you in the library last week?”
Sabrina remained behind him.
