Chương 10
“Who assisted you?”
“No one.”
“You went to the bank alone?”
“I took a cab.”
Dad laughed once.
It was not amusement.
“You haven’t taken a cab anywhere in years.”
Grandma looked at him.
“You were at your golf tournament.”
He stopped.
The detail was too ordinary to argue with.
Ruiz came down the porch steps.
“Mrs. Whitaker says she became concerned after finding property documents in Gary’s car.”
Vance lifted a hand.
“Detective, I strongly advise against discussing privileged family matters in an open driveway.”
Ruiz looked at him.
“You’re welcome to advise your client.”
Dad’s eyes stayed on me.
“You knew about this.”
“No.”
“She added you to the box and you expect me to believe you didn’t know?”
“I didn’t.”
“You expect everyone to believe that?”
The old instinct to defend myself rose immediately.
I swallowed it.
Ruiz had warned me about letting anger decide what evidence meant.
My father was doing something similar now.
He needed me to have known.
If I had known, then Grandma’s decision became manipulation.
If I had not, then an eighty-two-year-old woman had quietly planned around him.
“I didn’t know,” I said again.
Grandma nodded.
“I didn’t tell her.”
Dad looked toward her.
“Why not?”
“Because she would have worried.”
The answer was so completely Grandma that I almost smiled.
She had hidden something important to protect me from concern.
It was loving and maddening and exactly the kind of thing that had helped my parents operate for years.
Ruiz seemed to understand the contradiction.
“Mrs. Whitaker, if Captain Cole is an authorized signer, we should verify the box contents with the bank.”
Grandma nodded.
“I want that.”
Dad turned to Vance.
“You cannot allow this.”
Vance’s patience finally cracked.
“I do not control the police, Gary.”
“You’re my attorney.”
“I am your attorney, not a magician.”
Marcus looked down at the grass.
I suspected he was hiding another smile.
Dad pointed at me.
“She has a financial interest.”
Ruiz said, “That’s why the bank will document access.”
“She could have already removed things.”
“She did not know the box existed.”
“You’re taking her word.”
“I’m comparing statements and records.”
Dad stepped closer.
“Then compare mine.”
Ruiz held his gaze.
“I am.”
He did not like the answer.
Neither did Vance, although for a different reason.
The attorney gathered his folder.
“We’re leaving.”
Dad stared at him.
“We’re not done.”
“You are.”
Vance lowered his voice, but the driveway was quiet enough that we heard him.
“You have answered enough questions without preparation for one day.”
Dad’s shoulders stiffened.
For a moment, I thought he might refuse.
Then he looked toward the house again.
Mom was not there.
I wondered where she was and why he had come without her.
The absence bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
Dad walked toward his SUV.
Before he got in, he turned to Grandma.
“You’re making this worse.”
Grandma held the blanket closed at her throat.
“For you.”
His face tightened.
Then he got into the vehicle.
Vance followed in his own car.
They drove away separately.
Marcus waited until both vehicles disappeared.
“Well.”
Denise called from the porch.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I was going to say we need lunch.”
“That’s not what your face said.”
Grandma turned toward the door.
“What do we have?”
“Turkey.”
“Real turkey?”
“Deli turkey.”
“That’s not turkey.”
Marcus looked at me.
“You see what I live with?”
The normal conversation broke something open in my chest.
I looked away before anyone noticed.
Ruiz noticed.
She noticed everything.
“We need to go to the bank,” she said quietly.
The safe-deposit branch was downtown.
Grandma insisted on changing clothes first.
Denise found her a pair of soft pants and a cardigan.
They were slightly too large.
Grandma rolled the sleeves twice.
I waited in the kitchen with Marcus and Ruiz.
Marcus made sandwiches anyway.
I ate half of one without tasting it.
Ruiz took a call near the back door.
Her answers were short.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Preserve it.”
Then she looked at me.
“What?”
I asked.
She ended the call.
“The burglary report.”
“What about it?”
“No forced entry.”
My stomach tightened.
“Was the house actually burglarized?”
“Something was disturbed.”
“What?”
“File cabinet open.”
“Anything else missing?”
“Your father reported only the deed.”
I stared at her.
“He staged it.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I believe somebody entered a house without forced entry and opened a cabinet containing records Gary expected to find.”
“Who has keys?”
“Your grandmother says Gary and Linda both had them.”
Marcus set down the mustard.
“Had?”
Ruiz nodded.
“Ruth says she asked for Gary’s back months ago.”
“Did he return it?”
“No.”
I looked toward the hallway.
Grandma appeared before I could answer.
She had brushed her hair.
That small act made her look more like herself.
“Ready?”
Ruiz asked.
“I need my purse.”
“It was in the grocery bag,” I said.
Grandma looked at me.
“No, my real purse.”
We all went still.
“What real purse?”
I asked.
“The brown one.”
“Where is it?”
“At home.”
Ruiz frowned.
“What’s in it?”
“My identification.”
The safe-deposit box suddenly became inaccessible.
Grandma saw our faces.
“Oh.”
She sat down.
For the first time that afternoon, she looked defeated.
“I suppose Gary knew that.”
I crouched beside her.
“We can solve an ID problem.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
That made Marcus laugh.
“What?”
I asked.
“That may be the first time I’ve heard you admit that.”
“Enjoy it.”
“I am.”
Ruiz called the bank before we drove anywhere.
The branch manager confirmed they would need satisfactory identification and authorization records.
A passport might work.
Grandma’s had expired.
A birth certificate would not be enough alone.
Her driver’s license had expired four years earlier.
“State ID?” Ruiz asked.
Grandma shook her head.
May you like
She had kept using the old license for everyday things and had not thought about replacement.
Dad had gradually made himself necessary in a dozen small ways.
