Chương 8
Bracelet.
Diamond.
Four characters that might have indicated white gold.
“She posted a bracelet from Miami,” Maya said.
“Did you save the picture?”
“No.”
“Can you still access it?”
“She blocked me.”
“We may be able to find it another way.”
Maya leaned back and closed her eyes.
“I bought nursing bras with a gift card.”
I said nothing.
“She told me they looked expensive.”
“Who?”
“Denise.”
Maya opened her eyes.
“She said that when I complained about money.”
Her mouth twisted.
“She was carrying groceries out of my house while telling me my nursing bras looked expensive.”
The anger in her voice was different now.
Less fragile.
More dangerous.
I knew that stage.
Pain becomes easier to carry when it finds somewhere to point.
It can also make people reckless.
“We leave before Mark gets here.”
“After the safe.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“We do not know what is inside it, and forcing it open would be stupid.”
“What if he empties it?”
“That is possible.”
“Then why leave it?”
“Because we document that it exists, tell Evelyn, and let her decide what can be done legally.”
Maya stared at the safe.
“He put things in my name without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m supposed to respect his privacy?”
“No.”
“You’re asking me to.”
“I’m asking you not to create a problem for yourself while trying to solve one he created.”
She rubbed both hands over her face.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean this part.”
She pointed at me.
“The calm voice.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“It makes me want to throw something.”
“There are several cheap pens.”
She laughed once despite herself.
Then Liam cried from the bedroom.
We both moved at the same time.
Maya stopped after two steps and pressed her hand to the wall.
I reached him first.
By the time I lifted the carrier onto the bed, Maya was beside me.
She loosened his blanket and touched his cheek.
“He’s hungry.”
“Can you feed him here?”
“Yes.”
She sat against the headboard while I warmed a bottle in the kitchen using a bowl of hot water because Mark and Maya’s bottle warmer had also disappeared.
When I returned, Maya was staring at the closet.
“What now?”
“My blue dress is gone.”
“Which one?”
“The one I wore to Dad’s memorial dinner.”
I stopped.
She looked embarrassed immediately.
“I know it’s stupid.”
“It isn’t.”
“I barely wear it.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“He liked that dress.”
She looked down at Liam.
“Dad.”
“I know who you meant.”
Maya took the bottle from me.
For a few minutes, neither of us said anything.
Liam drank noisily, pausing every few swallows as though exhausted by the effort.
The apartment was quiet except for traffic outside and the refrigerator motor cycling on.
I watched my daughter feed her son in a room where someone else had been helping herself to her clothes.
The violation was so intimate that I had trouble fitting it into criminal language.
Theft was clean.
This was contamination.
My phone rang.
Evelyn.
I stepped into the hallway.
“I sent you the documents.”
“I saw them.”
“What can they do with that authorization?”
“Potentially less than Mark seems to think.”
“That sounds comforting in a lawyer way.”
“It’s supposed to.”
“Explain.”
“The power is limited by its language, and Maya’s signature alone doesn’t make every transaction legitimate.”
“What about the guarantee?”
“That concerns me more.”
“Why?”
“If Harbor Point borrowed against it, there may be debt in her name.”
“How much?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“The document says seventy-five thousand.”
“That is the stated credit limit.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Can they collect from her?”
“Possibly.”
“Even if she was medicated?”
“Do not jump twenty steps ahead.”
“I’m asking.”
“And I’m telling you that enforceability depends on facts we do not have yet.”
I looked toward the office.
“We found a safe.”
“Do not open it.”
“Maya will be thrilled you agree with me.”
“Photograph it.”
“Done.”
“Anything else?”
“Harbor Point business cards.”
“Send me one.”
I did.
There was a pause.
Then Evelyn said, “Interesting.”
“What?”
“The address is a coworking suite.”
“So?”
“So Harbor Point may not have a real office.”
“That isn’t illegal.”
“No.”
“But?”
“But Mark represented himself to at least one lender as having leased commercial space.”
I straightened.
“How do you know?”
“My investigator found a filing attached to a financing statement.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“What filing?”
“I’ll send it.”
A message arrived seconds later.
I opened the PDF.
Harbor Point Consulting had listed a Philadelphia address different from the business card.
The lease document named an office suite in a building on Market Street.
“Could be old.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I believe we verify before we accuse.”
I smiled despite myself.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I’m enjoying hearing you repeat my advice.”
I ended the call before she could answer.
When I returned to the bedroom, Maya had finished feeding Liam.
“He spit up on me.”
“That seems judgmental.”
She looked at the damp patch on her sweater.
“At least somebody in this family is honest.”
Her phone buzzed.
Mark.
This time he was calling.
Maya watched the screen until it stopped.
Then another message came through.
I’m boarding.
I need you to understand that the business stuff is complicated.
Maya’s eyes moved over the words.
“What business stuff?”
I took a photograph of the message with my own phone.
She noticed.
“Why?”
“Because messages can disappear.”
“He can’t delete mine.”
“Some platforms allow deletion from both sides.”
“This is regular text.”
“Then call me paranoid.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“Thank you.”
A second message arrived.
I was trying to protect us.
Maya stared at it.
Then she typed.
From what?
I reached for her wrist, stopping before touching her.
“Think before you send anything.”
She looked at me.
“I am thinking.”
“What do you want from the response?”
“I want to know what he says.”
“That is fair.”
May you like
She sent it.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
