Chương 5
I stepped toward the edge of the lawn and called Rachel Kim, a former federal prosecutor who now handled white-collar defense and internal investigations.
Rachel and I had worked opposite sides of three cases and survived two terrible conference-room lunches together.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Emma?”
“Sorry to call on a Saturday.”
“You sound awake for someone calling me on a Saturday.”
“I’ve been driving all night.”
“That sounds worse.”
“I need a referral.”
Her tone changed immediately.
“For you?”
“My sister.”
“What kind?”
“Potential financial fraud exposure.”
There was a short pause.
“How potential?”
“Her fiancé was arrested by federal agents yesterday.”
Another pause.
“Ah.”
“She may have signed documents or had accounts accessed through her phone.”
“Do you know the charges?”
“No.”
“Agency?”
“FBI appears to be involved.”
“SEC?”
“Possibly.”
“Where are you?”
I gave her the county.
“I know someone there,” Rachel said.
“Good?”
“Good enough that I would hire her if I were in trouble.”
“That’s more useful than a website.”
“I’ll text you her number.”
“Thanks.”
“Emma.”
“Yes?”
“Do not become your sister’s investigator.”
I looked back at Claire.
She was staring at the ground while Mom spoke quietly beside her.
“I’m not.”
“Your voice says you’re already halfway there.”
“I’m trying to keep them from making things worse.”
“That is not the same thing as being neutral.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I almost told her she sounded irritatingly wise for eight in the morning.
Instead, I said, “Send me the number.”
Rachel sighed.
“It’s coming.”
The attorney she recommended was named Maya Alvarez.
Maya answered personally and, after hearing the first thirty seconds, asked whether Claire could come to her office at ten.
“She should bring nothing she hasn’t already physically possessed,” Maya said.
“No accessing new accounts, no forwarding files, no asking other people to send documents, and no group family strategy meeting where everyone gets their stories aligned.”
I looked over my shoulder at my family.
“That last part may already be in progress.”
“Stop it.”
“I’m trying.”
“No, Emma, I mean stop participating in it.”
Her voice was firm without being theatrical.
“If your sister may be a witness or a subject, her interests may diverge sharply from your parents’ interests.”
“I understand.”
“And from the fiancé’s.”
“She understands that one now.”
“You’d be surprised.”
I almost smiled.
“I probably wouldn’t.”
Maya asked to speak directly to Claire.
I walked back and handed her the phone.
“She’s an attorney.”
Claire stared at it.
“Do I have to decide anything right now?”
“No.”
“What do I say?”
“Start with your name.”
She glared at me, which was such a familiar sisterly expression that for one second the morning almost felt normal.
Then she took the phone.
“Hi, this is Claire Bennett.”
Mom immediately leaned closer.
I held up a hand.
“Give her space.”
“I’m her mother.”
“She’s talking to a lawyer.”
“She needs support.”
“She needs privacy.”
Mom’s face hardened.
There she was.
Not the desperate woman from ten minutes ago.
Not entirely.
The mother I knew had not vanished just because disaster arrived.
She had simply become frightened.
“You are enjoying this,” she said quietly.
The accusation was so ugly that even Dad looked at her.
Claire stopped speaking into the phone.
I felt heat rise into my face.
For several seconds, I could not answer because the truthful answer was complicated.
There had been satisfaction when I saw the missed calls.
There had been vindication when Denise told me Mark was arrested.
There had even been one brief, vicious thought in the motel parking lot that Claire had finally gotten the wedding she deserved.
I was not proud of any of it.
But enjoying this?
I looked at the crushed veil on the veranda.
At my father’s gray face.
At Claire gripping my phone like it was the only solid object left in her life.
“No.”
Mom held my gaze.
“You’ve hated him for months.”
“I distrusted him.”
“You wanted us to listen to you.”
“Yes.”
“And now this happens and suddenly you’re the only one who knows what to do.”
“That does not mean I wanted it.”
“You always need to be right.”
I laughed then.
I could not help it.
The sound came out tired and sharp.
“Do you hear yourself?”
Mom’s cheeks flushed.
Dad stepped in.
“Enough.”
“No,” I said.
He looked startled.
I rarely interrupted him.
“If we’re doing this, let’s at least be accurate.”
I turned to my mother.
“I wanted you to listen because I was afraid something like this could happen.”
“You never said federal agents.”
“I did not know federal agents would arrest him.”
“You made vague warnings.”
“Because I had professional obligations.”
“Convenient.”
Claire lowered the phone.
“Mom.”
We both looked at her.
“Stop.”
Mom stared at her.
Claire’s face was wet again, but her voice held.
“I need you to stop making Emma the problem because Mark is harder to be angry at.”
The sentence seemed to drain the air from the courtyard.
Mom looked away first.
Dad rubbed both palms over his face.
Claire returned the phone to her ear.
“I’m sorry,” she told Maya.
“My family is being my family.”
I stepped back.
That hurt in a different way.
Not because it was cruel.
Because it was true.
Ten minutes later, Claire agreed to meet Maya alone.
Dad objected immediately.
“I’m coming.”
“No,” Claire said.
“You shouldn’t be driving.”
“Then Emma can drive me.”
Mom looked at me.
The irony was almost embarrassing.
Claire handed back my phone.
“Will you?”
I looked at her.
Six weeks ago, she had called me the family embarrassment.
Now her eyeliner was smudged, her wedding had evaporated, and she was asking me for a ride to a defense attorney.
There was no satisfying version of the moment.
“No one else comes,” I said.
Dad started to protest.
Claire cut him off.
“No one else comes.”
May you like
He stared at her.
For perhaps the first time in her life, she did not soften.
