Chương 12
“I was panicking.”
I laughed.
Then, unexpectedly, I started crying.
Leah did not hug me this time.
She just stood beside me while I cried behind a pair of sunglasses that did absolutely nothing to hide it.
After a minute, I said, “I hate him.”
“I know.”
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
“I want him to suffer.”
Leah nodded.
“I also want him to explain it in a way that makes everything not real.”
“That one I can’t help with.”
“I know.”
We walked three blocks before either of us spoke again.
At a coffee shop, Leah ordered tea she forgot to drink.
I bought a turkey sandwich and ate half because Rebecca had turned eating into one of those things that seemed responsible.
My phone stayed facedown on the table.
It had eleven messages from Evan.
I had read none of them.
At 12:37, one arrived from Elaine.
Please call me when you are ready to behave constructively.
I showed Leah.
She stared at the screen.
“I take back everything I have ever said about not committing crimes.”
I laughed into my sandwich.
Then my phone buzzed again.
This time it was Matthew.
I almost ignored it.
The preview changed my mind.
I’m sorry.
There’s something about the firm you need to know.
I read it twice.
Leah saw my face.
“What?”
I turned the phone toward her.
She stopped smiling.
“Call Rebecca.”
“It might be nothing.”
“Call Rebecca.”
I did.
Rebecca answered through her assistant three minutes later.
I read the message aloud.
“Do not ask leading questions,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“Do not tell him what you suspect.”
“Just ask what he wants to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“Should I record it?”
“Massachusetts has strict consent requirements for audio recording.”
She paused.
“Do not secretly record the call.”
“Okay.”
“Take contemporaneous notes.”
“What if he texts it instead?”
“Better.”
I looked at the message again.
“Should I ask him to write it?”
“Yes.”
I typed carefully.
Can you tell me in writing?
Matthew responded almost immediately.
Not all of it.
Some of it involves me.
Leah leaned closer.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Another message arrived.
Can we meet somewhere public?
Rebecca, still on speaker, said, “You can.”
“Should I?”
“That is your decision.”
I hated that sentence already.
“What would you do?”
“I would not be you.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It is more helpful than pretending otherwise.”
She softened slightly.
“If you feel safe meeting him and believe he has relevant information, choose a public place, tell someone where you are, and do not promise anything in exchange for what he tells you.”
“Can Leah come?”
“Yes.”
From across the table, Leah raised her hand like a student.
“I’m extremely available.”
We met Matthew at two in the afternoon in the back corner of a bakery near Copley Square.
He arrived wearing the same suit from the night before under a different coat.
He looked terrible.
Not theatrical terrible.
Human terrible.
Gray around the mouth.
Unshaven.
Eyes swollen from lack of sleep.
Corinne was not with him.
He sat across from us and stared at the table.
Leah said, “I’m staying.”
Matthew nodded.
“That’s fine.”
Nobody spoke for a few seconds.
A barista called out an order for someone named Sam.
Two teenagers were sharing earbuds near the window.
Matthew rubbed his palms on his trousers.
“Corinne left.”
I looked at him.
“For where?”
“Her sister’s.”
“I’m sorry.”
He gave a short laugh.
“You shouldn’t be.”
“I still am.”
He looked up then.
“You always do that.”
“What?”
“Take care of everybody.”
The comment annoyed me more than it comforted me.
“I’m not here to take care of you.”
“I know.”
He looked back down.
“I’m sorry.”
Leah shifted in her chair.
“About which thing?”
I gave her a look.
“What?”
She whispered.
“He has options.”
Matthew almost smiled.
Then the expression collapsed.
“I gave Evan more than twenty.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“Forty-five.”
I stared at him.
“Corinne knows about twenty.”
“Yes.”
“Where did the other twenty-five come from?”
He looked toward the window.
“Home equity line.”
Leah closed her eyes.
I said, “Matthew.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“I was trying to keep the firm alive.”
“Why?”
“Because I own fifteen percent.”
That stopped me.
I had known Matthew occasionally consulted on projects.
I had not known he owned equity.
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Did Evan tell me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He said you didn’t want family mixing with the business.”
I stared at him.
“Did I ever say that?”
“No.”
“Did you know I hadn’t?”
Matthew’s face tightened.
“Not at first.”
“And later?”
“I figured it out.”
Leah muttered something under her breath.
I ignored it.
“Why hide it?”
Matthew took a breath.
“Because Evan needed capital.”
“How much did you put in?”
“Thirty originally.”
“From where?”
“Corinne’s inheritance.”
I leaned back.
“Oh my God.”
“I know.”
“Does she?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know why?”
“No.”
He rubbed his face.
“She thought it was for an investment property.”
I stared at him.
“This family has a fascinating relationship with paperwork.”
His eyes closed.
“I deserve that.”
I was too tired to be pleased.
“What about the firm?”
Matthew leaned forward.
“The debt is worse than Evan told you.”
“How much worse?”
“Maybe two-fifty total.”
My stomach turned.
“Including the line?”
“Yes.”
“Taxes?”
He hesitated.
That was enough to scare me.
“What taxes?”
“Payroll withholding was late twice.”
I stared at him.
“Paid?”
“Eventually.”
“Currently?”
“I think current.”
“You think?”
“I don’t have full access.”
“Who does?”
“Evan.”
“Anyone else?”
“Our bookkeeper.”
“Name?”
“Diane Keller.”
I wrote it down.
Matthew watched me.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
“There’s always more.”
He flinched.
Then he said, “Evan has been using deposits from new projects to finish old ones.”
Leah frowned.
“Isn’t that sometimes normal cash flow?”
“Not like this.”
Matthew shook his head.
May you like
“Clients give retainers for specific phases.”
“He’s spending them before the work reaches those phases.”
