Chương 13
A canoe sat upside down near the garage beneath a tarp.
Arthur unlocked the gate remotely and waited until both cars were inside before closing it.
The girls explored immediately.
Lily declared the upstairs bedroom “haunted” because a ceiling fan clicked.
Emma found an old deck of cards and asked whether there was Wi-Fi.
There was.
Of course there was.
Arthur had apparently been maintaining more than he admitted.
By late afternoon, the kitchen table had become a temporary command center.
Arthur’s laptop.
My phone.
Priya’s handwritten notes.
Copies of the police report numbers.
Bank case information.
The promissory note sealed in its sleeve.
Daniel joined us by encrypted video call from his home.
Arthur had insisted on that after learning he did not want to travel again.
“Can you access the printer logs remotely?”
Arthur asked.
Daniel shook his head.
“Not without company credentials.”
“Do you still have credentials?”
“Yes.”
“Do not use them.”
Daniel looked frustrated.
“That’s where the evidence is.”
“And unauthorized access after a dispute can create a second problem.”
“My access hasn’t been revoked.”
“Do you know that?”
“No.”
“Then don’t guess.”
Daniel leaned back.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Preserve what you already lawfully possess.”
“I have emails.”
“Keep them.”
“I have exported accounting reports from last month.”
“Keep them.”
“I have screenshots of Northline payment approvals.”
“Keep them.”
Daniel glanced toward me.
“And Clara?”
“Yes?”
“Diane’s payments were not the only ones.”
I felt Priya go still beside me.
“What else?”
Daniel hesitated.
Arthur said, “If you know, say it.”
“There’s another recurring payment stream.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-five thousand monthly.”
Priya frowned.
“That’s not Northline.”
“No.”
“What vendor?”
“Bright Harbor Strategy.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“That’s because Mark created it himself.”
Arthur’s voice sharpened.
“When?”
“About nine months ago.”
“Who owns it?”
“The public filing lists a registered agent.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Daniel looked directly into the camera.
“I traced the deposit account during reconciliation.”
Arthur sat back.
“How?”
“It matched the last four digits of an account already in our system from a reimbursement.”
“Whose?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Mark’s personal account.”
I stared at the screen.
“So he was paying himself.”
“Yes.”
“On top of his salary?”
“Yes.”
“On top of distributions?”
“Yes.”
“How much total?”
“Roughly two hundred twenty-five thousand so far.”
Priya whispered something under her breath.
Arthur wrote it down.
“What was the business purpose?”
Daniel gave a bitter laugh.
“Strategic development consulting.”
I looked at Priya.
She shook her head.
“Same language.”
“Almost,” Daniel said.
Arthur tapped his pen.
“Diane receives disguised consulting payments.”
“Right.”
“Mark receives disguised consulting payments.”
“Yes.”
“And meanwhile the company needs advances and credit.”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“How many employees?”
Priya answered.
“Thirty-eight.”
Thirty-eight people.
Thirty-eight paychecks.
Thirty-eight households potentially sitting beneath whatever Mark had built.
I had wanted to destroy him twelve hours earlier.
Now the idea felt different.
Messier.
If the firm collapsed, Mark would not fall alone.
Arthur must have seen it on my face.
“Do not decide anything tonight.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
I looked away.
Emma wandered into the kitchen holding an old photograph.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Is this Dad?”
I took the picture.
Mark was seventeen.
Thin.
Long-haired.
Grinning beside his father on the dock.
Diane stood behind them with one hand resting on Mark’s shoulder.
His father looked alive in a way photographs of dead people always seemed to accuse the future of forgetting.
“Yeah.”
Emma sat beside me.
“He looks weird.”
“He had hair.”
“He has hair now.”
“Debatable.”
She smiled.
Then looked at Diane in the photograph.
“Grandma looks happy.”
I studied the image.
She did.
Not pleasant.
Not polished.
Happy.
A younger Diane with windblown hair and no bitterness around her mouth.
“People change.”
Emma picked at the corner of the photograph.
“Do they change back?”
Nobody at the table moved.
I looked at Mark’s teenage face.
“I don’t know.”
Emma nodded.
She took the picture upstairs.
Arthur waited until she was gone.
“That matters.”
“What?”
“What she asked.”
I looked at him.
“This is not about whether Mark gets punished.”
“No.”
“It’s about what happens next.”
“Yes.”
Priya leaned forward.
“What does happen next?”
Arthur closed his laptop.
“We have parallel problems.”
“The company.”
“Yes.”
“The forged documents.”
“Yes.”
“The family court.”
“Yes.”
“Diane.”
Arthur looked at me.
“Diane is not a problem you solve by confronting her.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
He almost smiled.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I nearly ignored it.
Then a text appeared.
Clara, this is Diane.
I need to see you without Mark.
Priya saw my expression.
“What?”
I showed Arthur.
He read the message twice.
Another arrived.
There are things about the company you do not know.
Then:
There are things about your marriage you do not know either.
Arthur held out his hand.
“Do not answer yet.”
I looked at the screen.
Diane had never texted me without either an insult, a demand, or a photograph of something she wanted me to buy for the girls.
A third message appeared.
Mark lied to both of us.
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
Then the fourth arrived.
And if he knows I told you, I am afraid of what he will do.
I read the message twice.
Then I handed the phone to Arthur without answering.
He studied Diane’s words with the same expression he used for bad contracts.
“Fear can be real and still be useful,” he said.
“You think she’s manipulating me.”
“I think she may be frightened and manipulative.”
Priya folded her arms.
“That sounds more like her.”
I took the phone back.
“What do I say?”
Arthur shook his head.
“You decide what you want from the conversation before you have it.”
“I want the truth.”
“That is not specific enough.”
I hated that he was right.
May you like
I opened the refrigerator even though I was not hungry.
Someone had stocked it recently with bottled water, eggs, cheese, and a plastic container of grapes.
