Chương 13
“Still there.”
“Then how could he be gone?”
“He had taken the keys.”
Ortiz asked, “Did you check the cliff?”
“Yes.”
Her voice cracked.
“I called your name.”
I felt my hand tighten around Eli.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“I know.”
“How long did you stay?”
“Maybe two minutes.”
“That’s all?”
“I thought Preston was coming back.”
“So you left.”
“I went looking for him.”
“Which direction?”
“Toward the lower trail.”
Ortiz’s eyes narrowed.
“The same direction Daniel went.”
“Yes.”
“Did you find Preston?”
“No.”
“Daniel?”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“Not where I left him.”
Richard shifted near the window.
“Was there blood?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to follow?”
Vanessa nodded.
“There was a trail.”
Ortiz asked, “And you followed it?”
“For a while.”
“What stopped you?”
“It split.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some blood went toward the road.”
“And some?”
“Toward the ravine.”
I could feel Ortiz thinking.
Not solving.
Thinking.
That distinction mattered.
“Did you see footprints?”
“Too many.”
“Snow?”
“Some.”
“Could you tell whether Daniel was walking?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I went toward the road.”
“Why?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Because I thought if Daniel reached the highway, he could get help.”
“And if Preston went toward the ravine?”
“I didn’t know.”
Ortiz’s voice sharpened.
“You did know he had a gun.”
“Yes.”
“You did know he had just pushed a pregnant woman off a cliff.”
“Yes.”
“You did know he had shot Daniel.”
“Yes.”
Each answer seemed to shrink Vanessa further.
I almost felt sorry for her.
Then I remembered falling.
The sympathy disappeared.
“Did you see Preston again?” Ortiz asked.
“Not then.”
“Then when?”
Vanessa looked at me.
“At the lower turnout.”
My heart thudded.
“How much later?”
“Maybe twenty minutes.”
“Was he alone?”
“Yes.”
“Was he driving?”
“No.”
“Then what was he doing?”
“He was standing beside Daniel’s car.”
Ortiz’s pen stopped.
“Doing what?”
“Searching it.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he see you?”
“Eventually.”
“What happened?”
Vanessa’s face tightened with remembered fear.
“He asked where Daniel was.”
“And you told him?”
“No.”
“What did you say?”
“That Daniel got away.”
Richard exhaled through his nose.
“That was either brave or incredibly stupid.”
Vanessa gave a small, broken laugh.
“Probably the second one.”
“What did Preston do?” I asked.
“He believed me for about five seconds.”
“Then?”
“He asked why my coat was bloody.”
I looked at the sleeve.
“You tried to help Daniel before going uphill.”
“Yes.”
“And Preston understood.”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He grabbed me.”
“Where?”
“By the throat.”
Evelyn made a small sound.
Vanessa did not look at her.
“He pushed me against Daniel’s car and asked which direction Daniel went.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Her eyes met mine.
“Because by then I understood that none of this was about money anymore.”
Richard’s expression changed.
“What was it about?”
“Control.”
I almost laughed at the obviousness of it.
Vanessa shook her head.
“No, I mean more than that.”
“What more?” Ortiz asked.
“He was terrified Daniel would expose everything.”
“The affair?”
“Not just that.”
“The forged documents?”
“Yes.”
“The stolen money?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa looked at Richard.
“And something inside Whitaker Atlantic.”
The room went still.
Richard’s face became unreadable.
“What inside my company?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“That is not good enough.”
“It is all I have.”
He took one step toward her.
“Try harder.”
Ortiz turned slightly.
“Mr. Whitaker.”
He stopped.
That small check of authority seemed to irritate him, but he accepted it.
Vanessa rubbed at the tear in her coat.
“Preston told me months ago that someone at Whitaker was helping him.”
“With what?”
“The policy.”
Richard’s voice went flat.
“Name.”
“I never heard one.”
“Man or woman?”
“Man.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard Preston call him.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
“What did he call him?”
“Greg.”
Richard’s face changed.
Just slightly.
I saw it.
“So there is a Greg.”
He did not answer me.
Ortiz noticed too.
“Who?”
Richard looked toward the door.
“Gregory Hale.”
“Position?”
“Senior vice president for private client underwriting.”
The title meant nothing to me.
The tension in Richard’s jaw did.
“Could he alter a policy?”
“Not directly.”
“Could he influence someone who could?”
“Yes.”
“Would he have access to Madison’s file?”
“Possibly.”
“Is he at work today?”
“I don’t know.”
Ortiz’s stare sharpened.
“Find out without contacting him.”
Richard nodded and sent a message.
Vanessa watched him.
“Preston hated him.”
Richard looked up.
“Then why work with him?”
“Because Preston hated almost everybody he needed.”
That sounded right enough to make my stomach turn.
“What did Greg want?” Ortiz asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Money?”
“Probably.”
“From Preston?”
“Maybe.”
Vanessa hesitated.
“He mentioned a fee once.”
Richard’s phone buzzed.
He read the response.
“Greg Hale left the office at eleven thirty this morning.”
“Normal?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He told his assistant he had a dental emergency.”
Ortiz almost smiled.
“Did he?”
“I’m having security verify without alerting him.”
“Good.”
Evelyn had become very pale.
She looked at Richard.
“Gregory Hale.”
“You know him?”
Her fingers tightened around the arms of the chair.
“Preston’s father knew him.”
Richard turned fully toward her.
“How?”
“They served on a charity board together years ago.”
“What charity?”
“The Vale Foundation.”
Of course.
Everything seemed to lead through money disguised as generosity.
Richard asked, “How long ago?”
“Fifteen years, perhaps.”
“Did Hale know Preston?”
“Yes.”
“Closely?”
“I wouldn’t say closely.”
I looked at her.
“That means yes.”
Evelyn bristled.
“It means what I said.”
“Evelyn.”
She sighed.
“Preston interned under him one summer.”
Richard’s expression darkened further.
“What year?”
“College.”
“Did you know Hale worked for Whitaker Atlantic?”
“Eventually.”
“Did Preston ever ask you about him?”
“Not recently.”
I saw the hesitation.
“So yes.”
She looked at me.
“Last Christmas.”
“What did he ask?”
“Whether Gregory still attended our foundation dinner.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Did Hale?”
“Yes.”
I remembered the dinner.
Too many white flowers.
Too much champagne.
May you like
Preston disappearing for nearly an hour and returning with an explanation about a client call.
At the time, I had been six months pregnant and furious because he left me alone beside a donor who spent forty minutes describing his boat.
