Chương 11
She looked at me.
“You think he’s lying about that too?”
“I think we stop assuming every message tells us the whole truth.”
My father nodded once.
“Call Eleanor.”
“I’m still here,” Eleanor said from the speaker in my hand.
I had forgotten again.
Vanessa actually laughed this time.
It sounded terrible.
“Of course you are.”
Eleanor ignored that.
“Daniel, do not chase Blake through an airport.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
“Can we stop him from leaving?”
“Not because he sent a dramatic text and may have misused company credentials.”
Vanessa turned toward the phone.
“He stole from us.”
“We do not yet know exactly what he did.”
“He used my account.”
“We have evidence that your credentials were used while you were elsewhere.”
“That’s him.”
“It may be.”
Vanessa slapped the chair back.
“Why does everybody keep saying may?”
“Because certainty is expensive when you’re wrong.”
My father gave a tired grunt.
“That should be printed on every lawyer’s business card.”
Eleanor continued.
“Marcus is preserving the access records.”
“What about Philip?” I asked.
“He is being contacted through counsel.”
“You already have counsel for this?”
“I am counsel.”
“I mean his.”
“We found his attorney from prior litigation.”
That was Eleanor.
Nobody else in the family could make litigation sound as ordinary as checking a restaurant reservation.
My phone vibrated against my hand.
A new message arrived from Marcus.
He had attached a photograph from building access records.
Blake’s badge had been used at Whitmore headquarters at 1:54 a.m. on March fourteenth.
Three minutes before Martin’s.
I showed everyone.
Vanessa sat down.
My mother covered her mouth.
Martin, still in the hallway, said, “I saw him there.”
Vanessa looked toward him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That my husband was going into my father’s office at two in the morning.”
“I thought he was there because you sent him.”
“Why would you think that?”
“He knew your login.”
The room went quiet.
Vanessa stared at him.
“What?”
Martin frowned.
“He said you’d asked him to approve a North Bay payment.”
“I never did.”
“I know that now.”
“Did he log in himself?”
“I didn’t watch him.”
“But he knew the password.”
“Yes.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
I remembered giving her access years earlier.
I had blamed myself for leaving the door open.
Now there was another possibility.
“Did Blake ever use your phone?” I asked.
She looked at me as if the question was absurd.
“Of course.”
“Could he see saved passwords?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you store them?”
“Sometimes.”
“Where?”
“In my notes app.”
My father muttered, “Jesus Christ.”
Vanessa snapped at him.
“You wrote passwords on index cards.”
“That was different.”
“It was exactly the same, only with handwriting.”
For one second, the old family rhythm came back.
Petty.
Familiar.
Almost normal.
Then Vanessa looked at her phone and the illusion disappeared.
She called Blake again.
This time he answered.
Nobody spoke.
Vanessa put him on speaker.
Airport noise filled the room.
An announcement echoed faintly behind him.
“Vanessa.”
His voice sounded exhausted.
“Where are you going?”
A pause.
“Chicago.”
“Why?”
“Because Philip is there.”
Martin stepped closer.
I raised a hand to stop him from speaking.
Vanessa gripped the phone tighter.
“You told me not to come.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to fix something.”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“No more fixing things.”
Silence.
Then Blake said, “I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you use my company login?”
He did not answer.
Vanessa’s face changed.
“Blake.”
“Yes.”
My mother sat down hard in the nearest chair.
My father looked at the floor.
Vanessa swallowed.
“How many times?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try.”
“Four.”
Martin closed his eyes.
Vanessa spoke very quietly.
“For what?”
“North Bay invoices.”
“Did you know they were inflated?”
“At first, no.”
“And later?”
Another silence.
“At some point, yes.”
Vanessa pressed her knuckles against her mouth.
I stepped closer in case her knees gave out.
She noticed and waved me away.
“Did you take money?”
“No.”
“Did Philip?”
“Yes.”
“Did you owe him money?”
Blake breathed out.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“About one hundred eighty.”
“Thousand?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa looked at the ceiling.
No tears.
Not yet.
“What for?”
“Investments.”
“What investments?”
“Private deals.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I lost money.”
“How much?”
“More than that.”
“Blake.”
“Almost six hundred.”
Nobody in the room moved.
Vanessa’s face drained.
“Our money?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Two years.”
She laughed once.
It came out high and broken.
“You told me the accounts were fine.”
“I know.”
“You showed me statements.”
“I know.”
“Were they fake?”
He did not answer.
Vanessa sat down slowly.
“Were they fake?”
“Yes.”
My mother whispered her name.
Vanessa did not look at her.
I took the phone.
“Blake.”
He exhaled.
“Daniel.”
“Get off the plane.”
“I’m not on it yet.”
“Good.”
“Philip has records.”
“So does Eleanor.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“He was going to expose everything unless I helped approve the invoices.”
“Expose what?”
“The losses.”
“That was blackmail?”
“No.”
Blake sounded frustrated.
“That’s not exactly what happened.”
“Then what happened exactly?”
“I asked him for help first.”
That changed the room again.
“How?”
“I needed cash.”
“To cover the investment losses?”
“Yes.”
“And he offered to move money through Whitmore?”
“No.”
“He offered me a loan.”
“Personal?”
“Yes.”
“With what collateral?”
“My share of the Wellesley house.”
Vanessa’s head snapped up.
“You did what?”
Blake heard her.
“I never completed it.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“Vanessa.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“Yes.”
She stood so quickly the chair tipped backward.
I caught it before it hit the floor.
“You put our house up for a loan without telling me?”
“It wasn’t finalized.”
“You signed.”
“Yes.”
“What did Philip do with that?”
“He used it to pressure me after I couldn’t repay him.”
“Pressure you into approving fake invoices.”
“Yes.”
Martin spoke despite my raised hand.
“And the midnight login?”
Blake went silent.
“Martin’s here?”
“Yes.”
“Of course he is.”
May you like
Martin stepped closer.
“You told me Vanessa authorized that payment.”
