Chương 7
“You enjoy having leverage.”
“Maybe.”
He went silent.
Claire surprised herself again.
She could have denied it.
She didn’t.
“I think maybe I do.”
“That’s not who you are.”
“You don’t get to define that anymore.”
The words were plain.
They frightened her after she said them.
Ethan lowered his voice.
“Come home.”
“No.”
“We can talk without Mara.”
“No.”
“Without Dominic Kane hovering behind this.”
“He isn’t here.”
“You think that matters?”
Claire looked toward the door.
Mara was in the next room.
Dominic was somewhere else entirely.
Yet his name had altered Ethan more than any document had.
“Why are you afraid of him?”
“I’m not.”
“You were afraid when Mara said his name.”
“Dominic Kane is not a man normal people invite into their marriages.”
“I didn’t invite him into the marriage.”
“You called him.”
“Because you made sure I had almost nobody else.”
“That is not true.”
“Then give me one name.”
Ethan said nothing.
“One friend you didn’t call unstable.”
Silence.
“One former coworker you didn’t tell I needed space.”
“Claire—”
“One person.”
“I was protecting you.”
The old answer.
It sounded thinner now.
She sat again.
“Goodnight, Ethan.”
“Don’t hang up.”
“I’m going to.”
“If you don’t sign Monday, people may lose jobs.”
Claire closed her eyes.
There it was again.
The crowd behind him.
“I said goodnight.”
“You need to understand the consequences.”
“So do you.”
She ended the call.
Her hands shook afterward.
Not during.
After.
She placed the phone face down on the desk and stared at it until the screen went dark.
A knock came at the connecting door.
Claire hesitated.
“Yes?”
“Mara.”
Claire opened it.
Mara had removed her jacket and shoes.
Without them she looked less formidable, though not exactly softer.
Her blouse sleeves were rolled once at the wrists.
“I ordered food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I didn’t ask.”
Claire stared at her.
Mara sighed.
“That was poorly phrased.”
For the first time that night, Claire smiled.
Barely.
Mara held up a paper bag.
“Soup and a sandwich.”
“What kind?”
“Chicken noodle.”
Claire let her in.
They ate at the small desk because the room had only one chair and Mara refused to sit on the bed.
Claire took two bites before realizing she was hungry enough to feel dizzy.
For several minutes, neither discussed Ethan.
Mara complained that hotel soup always contained too much celery.
Claire said celery was just crunchy water with bad intentions.
Mara looked at her over the rim of the plastic spoon.
“That’s a strong position.”
“I used to work nights.”
“What does that have to do with celery?”
“Nothing.”
Mara’s mouth twitched.
Claire ate more.
The quiet helped.
Eventually Mara reached into her briefcase and took out a slim folder.
“Do you want to see the current trust statement tonight?”
Claire looked at it.
“No.”
Mara nodded and put it away.
The simplicity of that nearly broke her.
“No argument?”
“You said no.”
Claire stared at the half-eaten sandwich.
“I’m not used to that.”
“I gathered.”
Mara folded the soup lid in half.
Then in half again.
“Dominic told me you saved his life.”
Claire looked up.
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t do anything extraordinary.”
“He disagrees.”
“He was bleeding.”
“That tends to create urgency.”
“I was the person there.”
Mara studied her for a moment.
“Do you always reduce the things you do well?”
Claire looked away.
“I don’t know.”
“Fair enough.”
The room heater clicked on.
Claire picked at the edge of the sandwich wrapper.
“What is he to you?”
“Dominic?”
“Yes.”
“A client.”
“That’s not the whole answer.”
“No.”
Mara leaned back.
“My husband died eleven years ago.”
Claire waited.
“He left behind a business partner who believed grief made me stupid.”
Claire’s eyes lifted.
Mara gave a dry smile.
“Your situation is not unique, unfortunately.”
“What happened?”
“I made several terrible decisions, one decent one, and hired Dominic before he became difficult to hire.”
“Doing what?”
“Finding records people preferred lost.”
Claire looked toward the briefcase.
“And now you do this for him.”
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because he pays on time.”
Claire almost laughed.
Mara added, “And because occasionally someone deserves a door opened.”
The words sat between them.
Claire looked at the planner.
“Did Dominic find all this?”
“Not originally.”
“Who did?”
Mara hesitated.
That hesitation mattered.
“An accountant named Elise Morton.”
Claire searched her memory.
Nothing.
“She worked for Whitaker Development?”
“For a subsidiary.”
“What happened to her?”
“She resigned six months ago.”
“Why?”
“She believed certain internal transfers were being disguised improperly.”
“Did she go to the police?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because suspicion is not proof, and accountants have careers to lose.”
Claire nodded slowly.
“What did she do?”
“She kept copies of records she was legally permitted to retain and contacted outside counsel.”
“You.”
“Eventually.”
“And Dominic?”
“Later.”
Claire looked down.
“So this started before I called.”
“Yes.”
The realization unsettled her.
“What would have happened if I never called him?”
Mara did not answer immediately.
“We were trying to determine whether you understood what was being done in your name.”
“You could have contacted me.”
“We tried.”
Claire looked up sharply.
“When?”
“Three times.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Once by certified mail.”
Claire felt a chill.
“Ethan redirects the mail.”
“I know that now.”
“Where was it sent?”
“To this house.”
“What happened?”
“Signed for.”
“By whom?”
Mara reached for the folder again.
She removed a copied delivery receipt.
Claire took it.
The signature was not hers.
It was a fast, slanted E.
Ethan.
Her mouth went dry.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
Claire stared at the receipt.
Another attempt.
“Second?”
“Email.”
“To what address?”
Mara read it.
Claire closed her eyes.
She had not used that account in almost two years.
Ethan had told her it was compromised after a security alert and created a new one for her.
“Third?”
“A call.”
“To which number?”
Mara read the last four digits.
Claire’s old number.
May you like
The one Ethan had changed.
She placed the receipt on the desk.
