Chương 9
My stomach tightened.
"What did you say?"
"I said no."
Two words.
Pathetically late.
Still, they mattered.
"What happened?"
"He shoved me."
I closed my eyes.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
The answer came too fast.
"Richard."
"My shoulder hit the wall."
"Did you tell the police?"
"They were still outside."
"Why were they outside?"
"They came back because of something they found in the records."
My heartbeat accelerated.
"What?"
"I don't know."
I nearly snapped at him again.
Then I heard voices behind him.
A knock.
Someone calling his name.
Richard lowered his voice.
"They're here now."
"Who?"
"The detectives."
I sat up.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
The phrase no longer irritated me.
This time it sounded terrified.
A man's voice became clearer in the background.
"Mr. Whitaker, we need you to step away from the phone."
Richard whispered, "Hannah."
"What?"
"I gave them the key."
"What key?"
"The safe deposit box."
Everything inside me went still.
"What safe deposit box?"
The line went dead.
I stared at the receiver until the hospital tone began pulsing against my ear.
Then I set it down carefully.
My hands were shaking again.
I reached for the nurse call button, stopped, and picked up my mother's phone instead.
There was one unread text from Naomi.
Do not speak to Mason or Beatrice tonight.
Call me if Richard contacts you.
I typed back with stiff fingers.
He did.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then Naomi called.
I answered before the first ring finished.
"What did he say?"
I told her.
She did not interrupt until I reached the safe deposit box.
Then she said, "Which bank?"
"He didn't tell me."
"Did he say whose name it's under?"
"No."
"Did he say what's inside?"
"No."
Naomi muttered something under her breath.
"What?"
"I said I hate surprises."
"So do I."
"No, you hate your family lying to you."
"Fair."
I heard paper moving on her end.
"Listen carefully."
I waited.
"Do not start guessing what is inside that box."
"Too late."
"Then stop feeding the guesses."
"Easy for you to say."
"It is."
Her voice softened.
"That's why I'm useful right now."
I pressed my fingertips against my forehead.
"What could require a safe deposit box?"
"Documents."
"Cash?"
"Possibly."
"Jewelry?"
"Possibly."
"Evidence?"
"Anything is possible, which is why guessing is useless."
I hated that she was right.
Naomi continued.
"Ortiz needs to know Richard called you."
"And Hannah."
"What?"
"If police are asking about a safe deposit box while financial investigators are already involved, tomorrow may be complicated."
I looked down at the white cast covering my leg.
"Tomorrow was already complicated."
Naomi went quiet for a second.
Then she said, "Yes."
A knock sounded at my door.
Detective Ortiz stepped inside.
She was no longer carrying coffee.
Her face had changed.
Not alarmed.
Focused.
Behind her stood a man in a dark suit holding a sealed evidence bag.
Inside it was my missing phone.
Ortiz closed the door behind the man and nodded toward the phone in the evidence bag.
“We recovered this from the locked desk.”
My eyes stayed on it.
The case was scratched near one corner where I had dropped it outside a pharmacy almost a year earlier.
Seeing that stupid little scratch made my chest tighten.
For months Mason had insisted he had no idea where the phone was.
He had even helped me search for it once.
He had opened kitchen drawers, checked beneath couch cushions, and asked whether I might have left it at work.
“What did you find on it?”
The man in the suit stepped forward.
“I’m Special Agent Daniel Price with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation’s financial crimes unit.”
That answer made me look at Ortiz.
“You called the GBI?”
Ortiz shook her head.
“The financial records triggered a referral, and Agent Price was already working with local investigators on related activity.”
“Related to Mason?”
Price and Ortiz exchanged a glance.
Price pulled the visitor chair closer but did not sit.
“Related to North Ridge Consulting.”
I put Naomi on speaker without asking.
Her voice came sharply through the phone.
“I’m still here.”
Price looked at the device in my hand.
“Attorney?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Naomi said, “Agent Price, I’m Naomi Greene, counsel for Hannah Whitaker.”
“Understood.”
Price finally sat.
“We obtained records indicating North Ridge Consulting received funds from multiple personal credit accounts over approximately eighteen months.”
My stomach clenched.
“Mine?”
“At least two accounts appear connected to your identity.”
“At least?”
“We’re still reviewing.”
Naomi cut in.
“Do you have evidence my client personally opened those accounts?”
“No.”
“Evidence she authorized transfers to North Ridge?”
“Not at this time.”
“What about the device?”
Price looked at the evidence bag.
“That’s one reason I’m here.”
He placed it on the rolling table without opening it.
“The phone was powered off when we found it.”
“Mason knew my passcode.”
“Did he always?”
“No.”
“When did he learn it?”
“I don’t know.”
I rubbed my thumb along the edge of the blanket.
“After the miscarriage, probably.”
Ortiz watched me.
“Why then?”
“Because I stopped caring about privacy.”
The sentence sounded terrible once spoken aloud.
I tried to explain.
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
“My doctor prescribed something for a few weeks.”
“I was forgetting appointments.”
“Mason said he needed access in case I became confused.”
Naomi’s voice came through the speaker.
“You don’t need to justify why your spouse knew your passcode.”
“I know.”
I did not know.
Not really.
Price continued.
“Was biometric access enabled?”
“Fingerprint and face recognition.”
“Could Mason unlock it with either?”
“No.”
“Beatrice?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“We’ll use legal process and forensic methods where appropriate.”
“Can you tell whether messages were sent from it?”
“Possibly.”
“Will that prove Mason sent them?”
“Not necessarily.”
His refusal to overpromise sounded almost identical to Ortiz.
I was beginning to understand that competent investigators were much less satisfying than television.
“Then what good is it?”
May you like
Price leaned forward.
“A device can show usage patterns, account logins, location history if available, application activity, stored credentials, drafts, deleted material, authentication records, and other data.”
