Chương 6
He dialed Natalie Chen.
She answered on the sixth ring.
“If this is about Elena, no.”
Roman leaned against the desk.
“You know it is.”
“Then still no.”
“She’s being watched.”
Silence.
Roman waited.
Natalie’s voice changed.
“What do you mean?”
“Someone sent me a photograph of her outside the apartment where she’s staying.”
“You know where she is?”
“Now I do.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
“I know.”
“Did your mother?”
“No.”
Natalie muttered something too low for him to catch.
“Send me the photograph.”
Roman did.
He heard the soft chime through the call.
Natalie stayed silent for several seconds.
“When was this taken?”
“Today.”
“How do you know?”
“My mother’s coat.”
“That is not proof.”
“She bought it yesterday.”
Natalie exhaled.
“Fine.”
“Did Elena tell you where she put the Baltic contracts?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you she moved them?”
Another pause.
“No.”
Roman straightened.
“You’re lying.”
“Yes.”
The answer was so immediate he almost missed it.
“Natalie.”
“She told me enough to understand that she was protecting herself legally if things went bad.”
“From me?”
“From everybody.”
“Where are the documents?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t especially care what you believe.”
“Natalie.”
“Roman, listen to me very carefully.”
Her tone lost its sarcasm.
“Elena was scared, and she did not frighten easily.”
He stared at the desk.
“Of Sabrina?”
“Not just Sabrina.”
“Who else?”
“She didn’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Roman’s hand flattened against the polished wood.
“You helped her trace Daniel Cross.”
“Yes.”
“Is he alive?”
“I couldn’t prove that.”
“What did you prove?”
“That records surrounding his death are strange.”
“How strange?”
“There is no public death certificate under the identity Sabrina gave Elena.”
Roman’s mouth tightened.
“There are ways to keep records private.”
“Not that way.”
“Maybe he used another legal name.”
“Maybe.”
Natalie sounded tired now.
“I found an Arizona crematory invoice under Daniel Thomas Cross, but the billing address was a mailbox service, and the person who signed the release used initials.”
“What initials?”
“SC.”
Roman closed his eyes.
“Sabrina.”
“Could be.”
“Could be somebody else.”
“Yes.”
Roman hated that she refused to give him certainty.
He hated more that Elena had done the same in the letter.
Facts before fear.
He had taught Elena that.
Now she was the one person still applying it.
“Anything else?”
Natalie hesitated.
“There was an old civil judgment against Daniel.”
“For what?”
“Wire fraud.”
Roman went still.
“How old?”
“Seven years.”
“Amount?”
“Two hundred and forty thousand.”
“Victim?”
“A freight brokerage in Newark.”
Roman looked toward his computer.
“What brokerage?”
Natalie gave him the name.
He recognized it immediately.
Not because he owned it.
Because his father once had.
Not officially.
Nothing had ever been official with Anthony Marino.
Roman opened a file search while Natalie remained on the line.
The brokerage appeared in archived litigation records tied to a company his father had dissolved before Roman took control.
Daniel Cross had stolen from one of Anthony Marino’s fronts.
That connection had never been disclosed to Roman.
Not by Sabrina.
Not by anyone.
“What did Elena say when you found this?”
Natalie asked.
Roman looked up.
“She wrote me a letter.”
Silence.
“A letter?”
“I found it today.”
“Where?”
“In our bedroom.”
Natalie gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Of course she did.”
“What does that mean?”
“She assumed if Sabrina made her leave, you’d eventually go looking through Elena’s things.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“She predicted this?”
“She predicted you.”
He did not answer.
Natalie continued.
“She said you distrust information less when you discover it yourself.”
The accuracy of it felt insulting.
Roman glanced at the baby shoes on the corner of his desk.
“Did Elena think Sabrina wanted the contracts because of Daniel?”
“No.”
“What did she think?”
“That Daniel was the bridge.”
“To whom?”
“We didn’t know.”
A knock sounded again.
Not the office door this time.
The outer study entrance.
Roman’s hand moved instinctively toward the drawer where he kept a handgun.
Then Sabrina called his name.
“Roman?”
He ended the call.
“One minute.”
He placed the second phone inside the drawer and closed it.
Sabrina entered carrying a plate.
Chicken, roasted vegetables, untouched bread.
“You’re going to make yourself sick.”
Roman looked at the food.
“Leave it.”
She set the plate down.
Her eyes moved across the desk.
He had closed the financial screens.
The baby box remained visible.
“You’ve been in here for hours.”
“I’m working.”
“At what?”
“Work.”
Her mouth tightened.
“You’re angry with me.”
Roman leaned back.
“Should I be?”
Sabrina stared at him.
“That depends on whether we’re going to pretend Elena walking out is my fault.”
“No one said her name.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Roman watched her.
Sabrina was usually good at silence.
Tonight she rushed to fill it.
“She’s been trying to push me out for months.”
“Of what?”
“Your life.”
“You weren’t in my life?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
She looked toward the door.
Then back at him.
“Roman, I’m not doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Being interrogated because your wife finally decided to punish you.”
Something inside him cooled.
“Punish me how?”
Sabrina blinked.
“She left.”
“That punishes you?”
“You know what I’m saying.”
“I don’t.”
He let the silence sit.
Sabrina folded her arms.
“She wants you chasing her.”
“Maybe.”
“She wants you guilty.”
“Probably.”
“She wants leverage.”
Roman did not move.
“What kind?”
Sabrina’s face changed by less than an inch.
Enough.
“Financial.”
“Over what?”
“Divorce.”
“She hasn’t filed.”
“She will.”
“You sound sure.”
“Any competent lawyer would tell her to.”
“Natalie Chen?”
Sabrina’s eyes sharpened.
“Is that who she called?”
Roman gave her nothing.
Sabrina stepped closer to the desk.
“She’s been filling Elena’s head with garbage for years.”
“About you?”
“About everybody.”
Roman picked up the fork.
Not because he was hungry.
May you like
Because the gesture told her the conversation had become ordinary.
“Did you know Daniel once had a civil judgment against him?”
