Chương 13
I almost smiled.
“You and my lawyer would get along.”
“Probably not.”
He sounded tired.
“People say a lot after domestic incidents.”
“Family violence.”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I don’t decide cases based on who sounds more convincing on a phone call.”
That answer reassured me more than sympathy would have.
At two, the specialist’s office called about my facial fractures.
They wanted to see me Monday morning.
The appointment became the first ordinary future event on my calendar that had nothing to do with money or police.
Naomi insisted we eat again before returning to the house.
We drove through a sandwich shop.
I ordered soup because chewing had become a bad idea.
Naomi ordered something enormous with bacon and complained that the bread was too aggressive.
For ten minutes we discussed food.
Not Ryan.
Not Evelyn.
Not fraud.
Just bread.
I had not known how badly I needed something stupid.
At three thirty, we pulled into my driveway.
Ryan’s truck was there.
I texted before getting out.
I’m here for clothes and personal items.
Please give me space.
The front door opened before I reached it.
Ryan stood there in yesterday’s jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt.
He had not shaved.
“I saw the message.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll stay out of the bedroom.”
“Thank you.”
Naomi walked behind me carrying two empty tote bags.
Ryan looked at her.
“Do you have to be here?”
“Yes,” she said.
I glanced at her.
“What?”
She shrugged.
“He asked.”
We went inside.
The living room had been cleaned.
The blood was gone.
Evelyn’s catalogs were stacked neatly on the coffee table.
The gala invitation was missing.
The baton was gone because the police had taken it.
The absence left a strange empty rectangle on the console where it usually rested.
Ryan followed us as far as the hallway.
“Mom says she’s staying with a friend.”
I stopped.
“I didn’t ask.”
“I’m just telling you.”
“Okay.”
“She has conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“She’s not supposed to contact you.”
I turned.
“She emailed me this morning.”
His face changed.
“What?”
I said nothing.
“When?”
“Seven forty-three.”
“What did she say?”
“I gave it to my attorney.”
“Lisa, what did she say?”
“That I should withdraw my complaint and claim the incident was mutual.”
Ryan shut his eyes.
“Goddammit.”
“She also said you would tell police what really happened.”
His eyes opened.
“I never told her that.”
“Did you tell police you didn’t see who started it?”
His face went still.
There it was.
The question he had been avoiding since the porch.
“I was trying not to make it worse.”
“For whom?”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“You watched.”
“I saw pieces.”
“You were six feet away.”
“She stood up.”
“So?”
“You stood up too.”
“I stood up after she took the baton.”
“I know.”
His voice dropped.
“I know that now.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It happened fast.”
“Not that fast.”
“I panicked.”
“You told Megan you didn’t see.”
“I didn’t want to testify against my mother.”
The sentence settled between us.
At least it was finally honest.
I looked at Naomi.
She was staring at the wall, deliberately giving us the illusion of privacy.
“Then say that,” I told him.
Ryan’s eyes filled with something I could not name.
“Say what?”
“Say you saw it and didn’t want to testify against her.”
“That makes me sound terrible.”
“It makes you sound accurate.”
He looked down.
I walked into the bedroom.
I packed more clothes, my running shoes, two jackets, chargers, and a folder of personal records.
Then I went into my office.
The spare cabinet key was not in the kitchen drawer where it belonged.
I checked twice.
Then again because denial apparently had manual steps.
“Ryan.”
He appeared in the doorway.
“Where’s the spare cabinet key?”
He frowned.
“What key?”
“The one from the kitchen drawer.”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you move it?”
“No.”
“Did your mother?”
“I don’t know.”
I opened the cabinet with the key on my ring.
Everything looked the same.
But now I photographed the contents before touching anything.
Ryan watched.
“This is insane.”
“Probably.”
“You think Mom came in here and stole some codes.”
“I think the codes are missing.”
“And the key too?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed his jaw.
“I might have used it.”
“When?”
“I don’t remember.”
“For the insurance documents?”
“Maybe.”
“Where did you put it afterward?”
“I thought back in the drawer.”
I looked at him.
“Did you give it to Evelyn?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
Then he added, “Not intentionally.”
Every part of me went still.
“What does that mean?”
Ryan looked toward the hallway.
“Last fall, she asked me to copy some documents from the cabinet.”
“What documents?”
“Financial stuff.”
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
Naomi stopped pretending not to listen.
Ryan swallowed.
“Lisa, I need you to understand something.”
“No speeches.”
“I wasn’t trying to steal from you.”
“Then what were you trying to do?”
His shoulders sagged.
“Qualify for the home equity line.”
The room became very quiet.
I had expected the truth.
I had not expected him to hand it to me so plainly.
“You used my information.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“After approval.”
“That is not permission.”
“I know.”
“Why did Evelyn need my documents?”
“She was helping me with the application.”
My hands went cold.
“Helping you do what?”
Ryan looked at the floor.
When he finally answered, his voice was barely audible.
“Pay her back.”
“For what?”
Ryan stared at the carpet.
“The retirement dinner.”
I waited.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“It got bigger than we expected.”
“We?”
“Mom was organizing it.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
His mouth tightened.
“I helped.”
“With eighteen thousand five hundred dollars?”
His eyes snapped up.
That answered more than the words would have.
“You found the statement.”
“Yes.”
He sat on the edge of my desk chair without asking.
“I was supposed to reimburse her.”
May you like
“Why?”
“Because part of it was mine.”
