Chương 7
Ryan shifted on the stool.
Martinez noticed him without turning his head.
Claire forced herself to speak carefully.
“I came into the kitchen and Diane was behind my mother.”
She pointed.
“Right there by the trash bin.”
“Diane who?”
“Diane Mercer.”
Diane’s face tightened at hearing her full name.
“She had both hands on Mom’s upper body and was forcing her down toward the open bin.”
“Did you see her strike your mother?”
“No.”
“Did you see your mother fall?”
“No.”
“I pulled Mom away.”
“Did anybody else become physical?”
Claire looked at Diane’s cheek.
“I knocked Diane’s hand aside when she reached toward us.”
Bell looked up.
“Did you strike her face?”
Claire opened her mouth.
Diane answered first.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
Diane touched her cheek.
“She hit my hand.”
Martinez nodded.
“Thank you.”
He looked at Margaret.
“We’re going to speak with everyone separately if we can.”
Margaret nodded.
“Fine.”
Ryan stood.
“I’d like a lawyer before I answer anything.”
Bell’s eyes moved to him.
Martinez remained neutral.
“That’s your choice.”
Ryan folded his arms.
“I’m not saying I did anything.”
“You don’t need to explain your decision.”
Ryan sat again.
The exchange seemed to make him more nervous rather than less.
Claire watched him stare at the floor between his shoes.
For years Ryan had been good around authority.
He joked with parking attendants.
He remembered receptionists’ names.
He once talked a building inspector into returning the same afternoon by asking about the man’s fishing hat.
Now every ordinary movement seemed deliberate.
His silence did too.
Martinez pointed toward the island.
“Whose belongings are these?”
“The purse is Diane’s.”
Claire indicated the bottles.
“The prescriptions are Mom’s.”
“The bank statements?”
“Mom’s.”
“The envelope?”
Diane closed her eyes.
Claire said, “It came out of Diane’s purse.”
Martinez looked at the property-transfer document.
“And that?”
“Same envelope.”
Margaret spoke from behind Elena.
“My name is on it.”
Martinez turned.
“Did you sign it?”
“No.”
Ryan shifted again.
Bell wrote something.
Martinez looked toward the trash bin.
“What’s supposed to be in there?”
Margaret answered.
“A transfer notice from my bank.”
“Your bank account?”
“Yes.”
“Why is it in the trash?”
“Diane put it there.”
Diane inhaled sharply.
Martinez turned toward her.
“You’ll have a chance to explain.”
Diane nodded.
Her lips compressed.
Elena wrapped a blood-pressure cuff around Margaret’s arm.
The machine hummed.
Margaret watched it inflate.
Claire stood close enough to see her mother’s fingers trembling against her thigh.
“You’re doing okay,” Claire whispered.
Margaret did not look at her.
“I should have gone to the bank this morning.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I knew enough.”
Claire felt the shame return.
“I should have listened.”
Margaret finally glanced up.
“This isn’t the time.”
That was not forgiveness.
Claire was almost grateful for it.
Martinez asked Daniel to lead Diane into the dining room and then changed his mind when Daniel stared at her too openly.
“Officer Bell, take Ms. Mercer into the dining room, please.”
Diane stood.
Ryan touched her elbow.
She jerked away.
It was a small movement, but Claire saw Ryan flinch.
Bell guided Diane out.
Martinez turned to Ryan.
“You can remain there for the moment.”
Ryan nodded.
Elena read the blood-pressure result and frowned slightly.
Margaret noticed.
“How bad?”
“Higher than I’d like.”
“I’ve had an unusually irritating afternoon.”
Elena almost smiled again.
“We’re going to recheck it.”
Margaret’s eyes dropped to the prescription bottle.
“I’ve missed medication.”
Elena followed her gaze.
“How many doses?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Elena paused.
Margaret’s voice softened.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t need to be.”
Margaret gave her a look.
“I do when I’m rude.”
Claire remembered her mother apologizing to a cashier once because another customer had cut in front of her.
The memory made her want to sit down.
Instead she turned toward the island.
Martinez had put on blue gloves.
He photographed the documents where they lay before touching anything.
“Did anyone move these after they came out of the purse?”
“I did.”
Claire pointed.
“I picked up the bottles, the bank statements, the envelope, and the deed.”
“Anyone else?”
“Daniel picked up the keys.”
Daniel nodded.
“I set them back down.”
Martinez photographed those too.
Ryan spoke for the first time since asking for a lawyer.
“That’s not a deed.”
Martinez looked at him.
Ryan’s face changed.
He seemed to regret opening his mouth.
Martinez said, “What is it?”
Ryan pressed his lips together.
Claire stared at him.
“You said you weren’t answering questions.”
“I’m correcting something.”
“What is it, then?”
Ryan ignored her.
Martinez waited.
Ryan finally said, “It’s an unsigned transfer draft.”
Margaret turned toward him.
“It has my signature.”
Ryan’s eyes flicked toward her.
“I meant not validly executed.”
Martinez looked down at the document.
“Did you prepare it?”
Ryan said nothing.
The silence answered enough for Claire.
Martinez did not push.
He moved toward the trash bin.
“Does anyone object to me looking through this for the document Ms. Ellis described?”
Diane was no longer in the room.
Ryan stared at the floor.
Margaret said, “Please do.”
Martinez crouched.
He photographed the inside first.
Then he lifted the top layer carefully with gloved hands.
A wet paper towel clung to a banana peel.
Coffee grounds had spread across one side of a white envelope.
Daniel stood a few feet away, jaw clenched.
Claire noticed his toolbox still sitting near the doorway.
The loose railing suddenly seemed like something from another life.
Martinez lifted the stained envelope.
Margaret leaned forward.
“That’s it.”
“Don’t strain yourself,” Elena said.
“I know what my own mail looks like.”
Martinez set the envelope on a clean paper bag Bell had brought from the patrol car.
The bank logo remained visible beneath the coffee stain.
He opened the torn flap carefully.
Inside was a folded notice.
The top half had been ripped through once but not separated completely.
Martinez unfolded it.
May you like
He did not read aloud.
His eyes moved down the page.
