Chương 12
“We are now beyond a family dispute.”
David sat down slowly.
“You mean criminal.”
“I mean documents were falsified, identity was misrepresented, a lender relied on those representations, and property belonging to Hannah was encumbered.”
His face was gray.
Evelyn continued.
“I am not giving you criminal-defense advice.”
He looked at her.
“You’ve represented me before.”
“In a refinancing.”
“You can’t represent both of us now?”
“No.”
The firmness in her voice ended that idea immediately.
“My duty is to Hannah.”
I watched David absorb that.
“Do I need a lawyer?”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
His eyes moved to mine.
I said nothing.
He looked down.
“Is Sarah in trouble?”
Evelyn’s expression hardened.
“David, you need to stop asking questions as if this happened around you.”
He stared at her.
“You signed documents.”
“I didn’t forge Mom’s name.”
“You knowingly accepted loan proceeds secured by property you did not own.”
“I thought we’d fix it before anyone got hurt.”
Evelyn glanced toward me.
Neither of us needed to point out the timing of that sentence.
Someone already had gotten hurt.
Physically.
Financially.
Relationally.
And we still did not know whether Richard had loosened the support because Sarah suggested it or because he believed he had authority over a house that was never his.
My phone rang.
Sarah.
I let it ring once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then I answered.
“Dad’s awake,” she said.
Her voice sounded strained.
“He wants to talk to you.”
“Why?”
“He says he needs to tell you what happened.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She shook her head slowly.
Not no.
Careful.
“Is he lucid?”
“Yes.”
“Is Elaine there?”
Sarah hesitated.
“No.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
That caught my attention.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“She left.”
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No.”
David had heard enough from my side of the conversation to stand.
I held up a hand.
“Sarah, did your mother know about the loan?”
Silence.
“What loan?”
“You know which loan.”
David closed his eyes.
Sarah whispered, “David told you.”
“The lender told Evelyn.”
Another silence.
Then she said, “You shouldn’t be talking to them without an attorney.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She raised one eyebrow.
Interesting choice of words.
“Why not?”
“Because they’re going to blame us for everything.”
“Did you impersonate me on a verification call?”
Her breathing stopped.
Just for a second.
Then she said, “Hannah, listen.”
“No.”
I surprised myself with how calm I sounded.
“You have spent months depending on everyone else listening while you decided what facts they were allowed to know.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“I heard your voice.”
Nothing.
“I heard you say my name.”
She began crying.
Not loudly.
No dramatic sob.
Just one broken breath, then another.
“I was trying to save our family.”
I looked at David.
He looked away.
“You were trying to save your plan.”
“We were going to lose everything.”
“You were willing to lose something of mine instead.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“It was exactly like that.”
Her crying stopped almost instantly.
Defensiveness came back.
“You have two houses.”
I stared at the phone.
There it was.
Not desperation.
Not entirely.
Entitlement.
“You have savings.”
She continued before I could answer.
“You have retirement accounts.”
“Which are not yours.”
“David was drowning.”
“He could have told me.”
“He was ashamed.”
“And you decided theft was kinder?”
“I decided action was better than watching him collapse.”
David whispered, “Sarah.”
She heard him.
“You’re there?”
He did not answer.
“David?”
He stepped closer to the phone.
“I’m here.”
Her voice changed.
“You told her everything?”
“I told her my part.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means my part.”
“You promised we would handle this together.”
He laughed once.
The sound was empty.
“We stopped handling it when your father went through a wall.”
“That was an accident.”
“Maybe.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you told him to loosen a support.”
“I did not tell him to remove it.”
“You told him enough.”
Her voice rose.
“You think I wanted him hurt?”
“No.”
David’s answer came quietly.
“I think you wanted the doorway.”
That silenced her.
It silenced me too.
Because it reduced the whole disaster to something horribly ordinary.
A doorway.
A design choice.
A few extra feet of open space.
Sarah finally said, “Dad wants to talk to Hannah.”
I picked up my purse.
“I’m coming.”
Evelyn stood.
“I’m coming too.”
Sarah heard her.
“No.”
Evelyn leaned toward the phone.
“Then Richard can speak to Hannah another time.”
Another pause.
“Fine.”
The call ended.
David reached for his keys.
Evelyn stopped him.
“You should call a lawyer first.”
“My wife is at the hospital.”
“Your wife is potentially implicated in multiple crimes.”
“She’s still my wife.”
Evelyn glanced at me.
I stood.
“Go.”
David looked surprised.
“So should you,” I said.
“Just don’t confuse standing beside her with lying for her again.”
He nodded once.
We left separately.
Outside, the bakery employee was dragging a chalkboard sign onto the sidewalk.
Today’s special was peach cobbler.
For some reason, I stopped.
Evelyn looked at me.
“What?”
“I haven’t eaten.”
“That is the smartest thing you’ve said all morning.”
I bought two pieces of cobbler.
We ate them from paper bowls while sitting in my car.
The peaches were too sweet.
The crust was excellent.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
Then Evelyn scraped the last bite from her bowl and said, “You know Richard may not tell you what you want to hear.”
“I know.”
“He may protect Sarah.”
“I know.”
“He may protect Elaine.”
“I know.”
“He may blame himself.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“Good.”
I started the car.
For the first time since I had arrived at the beach house, I did not feel like I was chasing the truth.
May you like
It was waiting in a hospital bed.
The only question was which part of it Richard Whitmore had decided he could still afford to tell.
