Chương 11
Daniel said, “Photograph every page before anything leaves this room.”
Curtis stepped forward.
“That notebook is not going anywhere.”
I looked at him.
“You don’t decide that.”
“It has private information.”
“About you?”
“About other people.”
“Then maybe you should have thought about that before taking money.”
“I did not steal from my father.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
That stopped me more effectively than shouting would have.
For the first time, he looked less angry than exhausted.
He sat down in Arthur’s old chair.
His hands hung between his knees.
“Dad agreed to help me.”
“With what?”
Daniel sighed.
“Vanessa.”
“I need to know.”
Curtis rubbed both hands over his face.
“A deal went bad.”
“What deal?”
“An investment.”
“With whom?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters if you took his money.”
“I borrowed it.”
“Did he know?”
“He knew about some of it.”
The room went still.
Daniel said, “Curtis, I strongly recommend you stop.”
Curtis laughed weakly.
“Yeah, everybody keeps recommending things.”
I stared at him.
“Some of it?”
He looked up.
“I was going to put it back.”
The sentence made something inside me collapse.
Not because it proved everything.
Because innocent people do not usually say they were going to put it back.
“How much did he approve?”
Curtis did not answer.
“How much?”
“One hundred.”
“One hundred thousand?”
He nodded.
“And the rest?”
His eyes dropped.
I closed the notebook.
My fingers felt numb.
“Why?”
Curtis stood again, slower this time.
“Because I got trapped.”
“By whom?”
“Nobody put a gun to my head.”
“Then what does trapped mean?”
He paced toward the window.
“There was an investment group.”
“What kind?”
“Commercial redevelopment.”
Daniel’s expression sharpened.
“Specific project?”
Curtis glanced at him.
“I’m not talking to you.”
“You’re talking in front of me.”
Curtis looked back at me.
“We bought distressed properties through a private syndicate.”
“Who is we?”
“People I know.”
“From the club?”
“Some.”
“You invested your own money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
He hesitated.
“Three hundred thousand at first.”
I almost laughed.
“We never had three hundred thousand sitting around.”
“I had separate accounts.”
“What separate accounts?”
His silence answered before he did.
My stomach tightened.
“How long?”
“Vanessa.”
“How long did you have accounts I didn’t know about?”
“Years.”
The word landed quietly.
Ten years of marriage reduced by one syllable.
I sat on the edge of the desk because my knees felt unreliable.
Curtis continued.
“The first project did well.”
“So you invested more.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“The second project stalled.”
“Meaning?”
“Permits.”
“Curtis.”
He clenched his jaw.
“We were overleveraged.”
That sounded like him again.
A polished term placed over something ugly.
“You lost the money.”
“Not exactly.”
“Did you lose it?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
He looked toward the shelves.
“A lot.”
“How much?”
“About one-point-four.”
I stared at him.
“One-point-four million dollars?”
He nodded.
The anger came so quickly that I stood again.
“You lost more money than I have earned in my entire life and you came home complaining that I bought the wrong coffee?”
His face twisted.
“That isn’t fair.”
“Fair?”
“You don’t understand how these deals work.”
“No, apparently I don’t understand how my marriage worked.”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“With Arthur’s money.”
“I told you he approved part of it.”
“The losses weren’t supposed to happen.”
I laughed once.
“No loss ever is.”
He looked wounded by that, which made me angrier.
Daniel reached for the flash drive.
“Do either of you know what this contains?”
“No,” I said.
Curtis said nothing.
Daniel looked at him.
“Do you?”
Curtis’s shoulders sank.
“Probably recordings.”
I turned.
“Recordings of what?”
“Dad started recording conversations near the end.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t trust his memory.”
“That’s not what you’ve been saying.”
Curtis glared at me.
“He didn’t trust anybody.”
“Did you know he recorded you?”
“Sometimes.”
“And you still denied what you said about me?”
“I didn’t deny everything.”
I felt suddenly tired.
More tired than angry.
“Did you tell him you were divorcing me after he died?”
Curtis did not answer.
“Did you?”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
The room seemed to become very small.
“How long had you been planning it?”
He swallowed.
“A few months.”
“Before he died.”
“Yes.”
“While I was bathing him.”
His face tightened.
“Vanessa.”
“While I was sleeping on the couch outside his room because he was afraid he’d stop breathing at night.”
“I know what you did.”
“No.”
My voice shook.
“You know what you benefited from.”
Curtis looked away.
I opened the notebook again because looking at his face had become unbearable.
Near the back, Arthur’s handwriting grew shakier.
One entry was underlined twice.
C says V has no ambition and will hold him back once estate transfers.
Another line beneath it read, Asked if he understands she gave up work because I needed care.
Response: That was her choice.
I stopped reading.
Arthur had written one final sentence below that.
My choice was allowing him to believe kindness is weakness.
I sat very still.
No one spoke.
Daniel finally said, “We need to secure these materials.”
Curtis shook his head.
“No.”
“They are evidence relevant to the estate dispute.”
“They belong here.”
“They belong to Vanessa under the bequest, subject to whatever legal restrictions apply.”
“I’m challenging the bequest.”
“That does not give you authority to destroy or conceal property.”
Curtis stared at him.
“I’m not destroying anything.”
Daniel took a plastic evidence sleeve from his briefcase.
“I’m documenting the items exactly as found.”
Curtis laughed without humor.
“You came prepared.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“For a contested estate involving allegations of financial misconduct.”
Curtis looked at me.
“You told him.”
“Margaret told him enough to represent me.”
“So everybody has decided I’m guilty.”
“No.”
I held up the notebook.
“Your father decided he didn’t trust you.”
His expression hardened.
“Dad was punishing me.”
“For stealing?”
“For not becoming him.”
May you like
The words came out louder than anything else he had said.
Then he looked almost surprised by his own voice.
