Chương 7
“That’s subtle.”
A second message arrived.
Your father would be ashamed of you.
Lucas locked the phone.
“Don’t delete those,” I said.
“I know.”
“Send them to Reyes.”
“I know.”
He opened the phone again.
A third message appeared.
Ask Claire why Mark changed his beneficiary three days before he died.
Nobody spoke.
Beth slowly lowered her drink.
“What beneficiary?”
I asked.
Lucas stared at the screen.
“I don’t know.”
My heart began pounding.
“Life insurance?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did your dad have a policy?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead.
“Through work.”
“Who was the beneficiary?”
“You.”
“Then what is she talking about?”
Lucas looked miserable.
“Dad changed something.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just read the message.”
“I mean I don’t know what he changed.”
Beth pulled out a chair.
“Sit down, both of you.”
“I am sitting.”
“You’re vibrating.”
I ignored her.
“Did Mark talk to you about insurance before he died?”
“No.”
“About Evelyn?”
“Sometimes.”
“What did he say?”
Lucas shoved his unfinished burger away.
“That she was angry about money.”
“What money?”
“Grandpa’s trust.”
This was new.
Mark’s father had died years before I met him.
I knew there had been money, but Mark treated family finances the way some people treated bathroom habits.
Private, vaguely embarrassing, and not suitable for dinner.
“What trust?”
“Dad was supposed to get part of it when he turned forty-five.”
Mark had died at forty-three.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Evelyn control it?”
“I think so.”
“Think?”
“Dad didn’t tell me everything.”
His voice sharpened.
“Apparently he didn’t tell anybody everything.”
That stopped me.
He was angry at Mark too.
The realization softened something I had been holding against him.
Beth sat down.
“So Evelyn says Mark changed a beneficiary right before he died.”
“Yes.”
“And she wants Lucas to ask you why.”
“Yes.”
“Which means either she knows something you don’t, or she wants you to think she does.”
“Yes.”
Beth folded a french fry wrapper into a square.
“Don’t answer her.”
Lucas looked at me.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
Another buzz.
This time the message was longer.
Claire knows exactly what Mark was doing that week.
She knows why he met with Grant.
Ask her why she never told you.
Lucas did not immediately show me.
I saw his face first.
“What?”
He handed over the phone.
The name Grant hit me.
The same name from Evelyn’s insurance messages.
Grant.
I read the message again.
Then a memory surfaced with no warning.
Mark standing in our kitchen three nights before he died.
His tie loosened.
His left hand wrapped around a glass of water.
Me asking why he had come home late.
Him saying he had met with someone about cleaning up paperwork.
I had teased him that “cleaning up paperwork” sounded like something a criminal said before a tax audit.
He had smiled.
Not laughed.
At the time I thought he was tired.
“What?”
Lucas asked.
I realized they were both watching me.
“Mark met someone.”
“When?”
“Three days before the accident.”
“Grant?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just looked like you remembered.”
“I remembered him coming home late.”
“What did he say?”
“Paperwork.”
Lucas stood.
“Claire.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Did he mention Grandma?”
“No.”
“Insurance?”
“No.”
“A trust?”
“No.”
He turned away.
I heard the accusation anyway.
“You think I’m lying?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I’m trying to understand why Dad apparently told nobody anything.”
“So am I.”
Beth spoke quietly.
“Maybe that’s the point.”
We both looked at her.
She unfolded the wrapper, then folded it again.
“If Evelyn wants you suspicious of each other, she’s doing well.”
Lucas sat back down.
Nobody apologized.
We did not need to.
I picked up his phone.
“Send every message to Reyes.”
He did.
Ten minutes later, Reyes called.
I answered on speaker.
“Do not respond to Evelyn.”
“We haven’t.”
“Good.”
“What is the beneficiary thing?”
“I was about to ask you.”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Mark have private life insurance in addition to his employer policy?”
“Not that I knew.”
“Did he meet with anyone named Grant shortly before his death?”
“Possibly.”
“Possibly?”
I told her about the late evening and the paperwork comment.
There was a pause.
“Grant Holloway is an independent insurance broker.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“The same broker from Lily’s policy?”
“Yes.”
Lucas stood again.
“Did he insure Dad?”
Reyes did not answer immediately.
“We’re checking.”
“Is that why Grandma mentioned his beneficiary?”
“Maybe.”
“Detective.”
“I don’t know yet, Lucas.”
He paced toward the sink.
I asked the question I had been afraid to ask.
“Was there something suspicious about Mark’s accident?”
Reyes’s voice changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
“I pulled the report this afternoon.”
“And?”
“It was ruled accidental.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
Lucas stopped moving.
Reyes continued.
“There were no immediate indicators of criminal involvement.”
“Immediate?”
“Claire.”
“What aren’t you saying?”
Another pause.
“The report mentions a mechanical concern.”
Lucas turned around.
“What concern?”
“The investigating officer noted that a brake warning light had been reported by a service technician two days before the crash.”
My mouth went dry.
“Mark never told me that.”
“He may not have known the significance.”
“Was it repaired?”
“We don’t have that answer yet.”
Lucas stared at me across the kitchen.
Beth’s wrapper lay forgotten in her hands.
“What does that have to do with Evelyn?”
I asked.
“Maybe nothing.”
“That’s becoming your favorite phrase.”
“It keeps me from lying to you.”
I closed my eyes.
That was fair.
I hated that it was fair.
Reyes said she would call again once she had something confirmed.
We ended the call.
The kitchen went quiet.
Then Lucas whispered, “Grandma had Dad’s car that weekend.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“She borrowed it.”
“When?”
“Before he died.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was mad.”
May you like
“About what?”
“She took it Saturday, and Dad made me ride the bus to practice.”
