Chương 12
I said, “Ask David.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He said you freaked out over some financial planning thing my mom brought up.”
I almost laughed.
“That’s his version?”
“He didn’t give me much.”
“Then I don’t think I should either.”
Lauren was quiet.
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Everything with Mom is complicated.”
The sentence landed differently now.
“How complicated?”
“What?”
“You said everything with your mom is complicated.”
“It is.”
“In what way?”
Lauren hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Rachel.”
“I’m not asking you to betray anyone.”
“That sounds exactly like what you’re asking.”
I closed my eyes.
There was fear in her voice.
Not guilt, necessarily.
But something.
“Lauren, did your mother ever talk to you about my finances?”
The silence stretched.
Then she said, “Define talk.”
Megan mouthed, There.
I turned away from her.
“Did she mention my savings?”
“Yes.”
“My condo?”
“Yes.”
“My salary?”
“Probably.”
“Did you ever ask how she knew those things?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because she talks about everybody’s money.”
That answer sounded painfully believable.
Lauren continued.
“She knows what Dad’s pension is.”
“What you make?”
“She thinks she does.”
“Does she?”
“No.”
A faint laugh escaped her.
“I’ve been lying to her about my salary for four years.”
I leaned against the counter.
“Why?”
“Because when she knows what you have, she starts assigning it jobs.”
I looked at Megan.
Her expression had changed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means if you have two thousand dollars saved, suddenly Uncle Pete needs help with dental work or David needs a new car or somebody’s roof is leaking.”
“And if you say no?”
“Then you’re selfish.”
I thought about the word Brenda had used that morning.
“It’s incredibly selfish to continue behaving as though that money belongs only to you.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did she do that to you?”
Lauren laughed softly.
“For most of my twenties.”
“Did David know?”
Another pause.
“Some.”
“How much is some?”
“Enough.”
I closed my eyes.
“Lauren, I need to ask you something very specific.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know anyone who works at Northfield Bank?”
She went silent.
Megan stopped eating.
“Lauren?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Why?”
“Please answer.”
A long breath.
“My boyfriend’s cousin works there.”
My pulse jumped.
“What’s his name?”
“Rachel, why are you asking me this?”
“Because someone at Northfield Bank accessed my customer profile without authorization.”
Silence.
Then a sharp intake of breath.
“What?”
“Someone opened my profile twice.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You were about to.”
“No.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Lauren.”
“I have never looked at your bank account.”
“I didn’t ask whether you did.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
Her voice had gone high and fast.
“Did your mother ever ask you if someone could look up my information?”
“No.”
“Did David?”
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
“No.”
Then she stopped.
The pause was tiny.
I heard it anyway.
“Lauren.”
“I said no.”
“You almost said something else.”
“This is insane.”
“Who asked?”
“Nobody.”
“Who?”
She exhaled.
“Mom asked a stupid hypothetical question.”
Every muscle in my back tightened.
“What question?”
“She asked whether bank employees can see account balances.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Recently?”
“A couple weeks ago.”
“Did you answer?”
“I said probably.”
“Did you mention your boyfriend’s cousin?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Then, quieter, “Not then.”
My throat went dry.
“When did you mention him?”
She did not answer.
“Lauren.”
“We were all at dinner.”
“Who is all?”
“Me, Mom, David, Eric.”
“Eric is your boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last Saturday.”
I looked at the calendar on my laptop.
Six days ago.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Then tell me.”
She started speaking too quickly.
“Mom was complaining that you wouldn’t combine everything after the wedding, and Eric said his cousin worked at Northfield, and Mom made some joke about how she should hire him to investigate you.”
“That was the joke?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone laugh?”
“David did.”
The room seemed colder.
“Did Eric?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
“He said his cousin could get fired for looking at accounts without a reason.”
I closed my eyes.
There was the clue.
Fair.
Ugly.
Specific.
“What did Brenda say?”
“She said she was kidding.”
“And David?”
“He told her she was nuts.”
“Laughing?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone contact the cousin afterward?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you give anyone his name?”
Lauren stopped breathing for a beat.
“Eric did.”
“When?”
“During dinner.”
“Why?”
“Mom asked.”
I pressed my fingers against the countertop.
“What is the cousin’s name?”
“I don’t think I should tell you.”
“Someone accessed my account.”
“I know, but if it wasn’t him—”
“Then the bank investigation will clear him.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her voice cracked.
“If I give you his name and this turns into some huge investigation, Eric is going to know I dragged his family into it.”
“Your mother may already have done that.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to make it worse.”
There it was.
The Mercer reflex.
Protect the family from consequences before protecting someone from harm.
I felt anger rise so fast I nearly spoke over her.
Then I stopped.
Because Lauren sounded frightened.
Not for Brenda.
For herself.
“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“You are.”
She was silent.
Then she said, “You have no idea what happens when Mom decides somebody embarrassed her.”
I looked toward the window.
Outside, the first rain had started tapping against the glass.
“Maybe I do.”
Lauren laughed once, bitterly.
“No.”
“What did she do to you?”
“I’m not doing this.”
“You called me.”
“To ask why the wedding was canceled.”
“Now you know.”
“No, I know it involves money and Mom doing something crazy.”
“She prepared a power of attorney in my name.”
Lauren said nothing.
“She tried to get my PIN.”
Still nothing.
“David blocked the door when I tried to leave.”
Lauren’s voice came back very quietly.
“He did what?”
“He stood in front of the only exit.”
May you like
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
