Chương 10
“I knew Daniel had made something work.”
Brenda whispered, “Jesus.”
Greg covered his mouth with one hand.
I felt strangely calm now.
The anger had gone past heat and become something colder.
“You knew.”
“I didn’t ask how.”
“That is knowing.”
“I was desperate.”
“No.”
I looked at the lake.
“You were willing.”
He made a frustrated sound.
“You don’t understand what I was dealing with.”
“Then explain it.”
“The investment was supposed to close in June.”
“What investment?”
“The Gainesville property.”
“And?”
“The seller pulled out.”
“Then why September?”
A pause.
I thought of the voicemail.
Daniel said we had until September.
“What happens in September, Shawn?”
Nothing.
“Answer me.”
“The balloon payment.”
Miller’s eyes sharpened.
“What balloon payment?”
Shawn seemed to realize he had said too much.
Then he laughed once, bitterly.
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters to me.”
“The loan comes due.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“September fifteenth.”
I looked at Miller.
He was already writing.
“So somebody expects three hundred eighty thousand dollars in two weeks.”
“More.”
“How much more?”
“Fees.”
“What fees?”
“Origination, extension, interest.”
“How much?”
Shawn said nothing.
“Shawn.”
“Four hundred twelve.”
Greg whispered, “Oh my God.”
I asked, “Four hundred twelve thousand?”
“Yes.”
I sat down again.
The number had become stupid.
Numbers that large lose their shape when they belong to someone who still buys store-brand coffee.
“What were you planning to do when it came due?”
“Pay it.”
“With what?”
“The retail deal.”
“You just said that fell apart.”
“It came back.”
“When?”
“Last month.”
“And?”
“Daniel said we had another buyer lined up.”
“For what?”
“For our position.”
I heard the word our.
“Who is our?”
Another silence.
“Daniel and me.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know all of them.”
“You invested with people you don’t know?”
“It was structured through LLCs.”
That sounded like something he had repeated often enough to stop hearing how absurd it was.
“How much did you personally put in?”
“Forty-five.”
“Thousand?”
“Yes.”
“Where did that come from?”
“Some mine.”
“Some Eric’s.”
“Yes.”
“Some Hannah’s?”
“No.”
His answer was fast.
Too fast.
I looked at Miller.
He caught it too.
“Did you use Hannah’s money?”
“Not directly.”
I closed my eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“Our joint account.”
“How much?”
Silence.
“Hannah said you emptied it this morning.”
“That was mine.”
“Marriage has apparently made a lot of things yours.”
He breathed hard into the phone.
“Walter, I need you to help me.”
There it was.
The real reason for the call.
Miller’s expression changed, just slightly.
“What help?”
“I’ll come out.”
“That is not something you trade.”
“I know.”
“Then come out.”
“I need you to agree to something first.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It could save the cabin.”
That stopped me.
He heard the silence and rushed into it.
“Daniel has documents.”
“What documents?”
“Original loan files.”
“So?”
“If they get those, they can prove the lender knew the title was bad.”
Miller raised his eyebrows.
I said, “Who is they?”
“Your lawyer.”
“How would Daniel’s documents help?”
“Because Blue Ridge knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I didn’t own the cabin yet.”
Every muscle in my back tightened.
“You told them that?”
“I told Daniel.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“Yes.”
“You told the lender?”
“Not directly.”
“Then how do you know they knew?”
“Because Daniel sent them the trust papers.”
Miller leaned closer.
“What trust papers?”
Shawn heard him.
“Who’s there?”
“Deputy Miller.”
“I said I wanted to talk to Walter.”
“You are talking to Walter.”
Miller’s tone was flat.
“Answer the question.”
Shawn hesitated.
“Copies of the trust certificate.”
“Anything else?”
“Walter’s driver’s license.”
My head came up.
“What?”
“Old copy.”
“How did you get my license?”
“You scanned it.”
“When?”
“For the knee surgery paperwork.”
I remembered.
Hannah had needed a copy for one of the hospital forms because I had left my wallet at home.
I had emailed it to her.
“You got it from Hannah’s email?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
“She printed it.”
That made no sense at first.
Then it did.
My house.
My printer.
A stack of forms on the desk.
Shawn could have taken the page.
“What else did you take from my office?”
“I didn’t take anything.”
“You took Susan’s pen.”
“I borrowed it.”
Greg made a sound of disbelief.
I almost admired the stupidity of the word.
“You borrowed a dead woman’s pen for a forged deed?”
“I didn’t use it for that.”
“Then why did Daniel photograph it beside the document?”
“He didn’t.”
“You did?”
Silence.
Brenda looked at me.
I said, “Brenda has the picture.”
Shawn swore softly.
“Okay.”
“What was the picture for?”
“I sent it to my dad.”
Greg looked stricken.
“To convince him the transfer was done?”
“Yes.”
“And the pen?”
“I thought it would make it look real.”
That answer hurt more than it should have.
Not because the pen mattered financially.
Because Shawn had understood exactly what would make the lie feel personal enough to be believed.
He had staged my grief.
I looked at Susan’s raincoat again.
The yellow zipper pull was cracked near the bottom.
She had meant to replace it.
She never did.
“Come outside,” I said.
Shawn inhaled sharply.
“Walter—”
“Come outside.”
“You said you’d listen.”
“I listened.”
“You don’t understand Daniel.”
“Then tell the police.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“He’ll destroy everything.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said he has documents.”
“He does.”
“Where?”
“In a storage unit.”
Miller’s pen stopped.
“Which facility?” he asked.
Shawn went silent.
Miller repeated the question.
“No.”
“Shawn,” I said.
“If I tell you, I lose the only leverage I have.”
“Against Daniel?”
“Against everybody.”
I looked at Greg.
He had gone pale.
“What does that mean?”
Shawn’s voice dropped.
“North Hollow isn’t just Daniel.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how is that leverage?”
“Because the loan files show they knew the collateral was dirty.”
May you like
The word dirty made my stomach turn.
My cabin.
