Chương 14
I looked toward the traffic.
“Did you tell Megan what Fiona found?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m finally trying not to be an idiot.”
I almost laughed.
“That is ambitious.”
“Dad.”
“Sorry.”
He sounded exhausted.
“I don’t know who to believe.”
“Good.”
“What?”
“Belief is not your job yet.”
“Then what is?”
“Collect documents.”
He went quiet.
I continued walking.
“Do you have access to the home equity account?”
“Yes.”
“Get statements.”
“I already did.”
That surprised me again.
“All of them?”
“Eighteen months.”
“Good.”
“There are three draws I don’t recognize.”
I stopped.
“How much?”
“Forty.”
“Chelsea told us about that.”
“No.”
His voice tightened.
“The forty is one.”
I felt a small pressure behind my ribs.
“What are the others?”
“Twelve thousand and eighteen thousand.”
I looked across the street without seeing it.
“When?”
“Twelve in January.”
“And eighteen?”
“May.”
“Where did they go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ask the bank for transaction details.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“The twelve went by wire.”
“To whom?”
“An account ending in 4417.”
“That tells us nothing.”
“I know.”
“The eighteen?”
“Cashier’s check.”
My stomach tightened.
“To Evan?”
“No.”
“Who?”
There was a pause.
“Megan.”
I said nothing.
Logan breathed into the phone.
“Dad?”
“I’m here.”
“I called Chelsea.”
“What did she say?”
“She swears she didn’t authorize either one.”
That was worse.
“Is she sure?”
“She’s crying so hard I can barely understand her.”
“Where are you?”
“In your hallway.”
“Go home.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know what I’m walking into.”
That was the voice of the boy who used to ask how long thunderstorms lasted.
I leaned against the brick wall outside the watch shop.
“You are walking into your own house.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.”
A couple passed me carrying iced coffees.
The woman smiled apologetically because her bag brushed my arm.
I nodded.
“Logan, listen carefully.”
“I am.”
“Do not accuse Chelsea of stealing the money.”
“I didn’t.”
“Do not accuse Megan.”
“I haven’t.”
“Do not call Evan.”
“Okay.”
“And do not move money between accounts.”
He was silent.
“Logan.”
“I transferred what was left in checking.”
My jaw tightened.
“Where?”
“To my personal savings.”
“Why?”
“Because I panicked.”
There it was.
Human beings rarely waited for good advice before doing something foolish.
“How much?”
“Seventeen thousand.”
“Put it back.”
“Why?”
“Because moving shared household money in the middle of a financial dispute can make everything worse.”
“It’s my money too.”
“Exactly.”
He cursed under his breath.
“I was trying to protect it.”
“From Chelsea?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then stop acting on what you don’t know.”
He exhaled sharply.
“You make that sound easy.”
“It is not.”
I looked at my father’s watch.
“Do it anyway.”
He said nothing.
Then, quietly, “I’m scared.”
That changed something.
Logan had not admitted fear to me in years.
He called it stress.
Pressure.
A bad quarter.
A tough month.
Never fear.
“I know.”
“What if she’s been taking money?”
“Then you deal with that.”
“What if Megan has been helping her?”
“Then you deal with that.”
“What if I lose the house?”
I closed my eyes.
“Then you deal with that too.”
He laughed bitterly.
“That’s your answer?”
“It is the only one that does not require me to lie.”
He was silent for several seconds.
“Are you really not going to save us?”
The question was so naked that I almost answered too quickly.
I could save them.
At least financially.
That was the terrible part.
One transfer from my brokerage account could erase months of panic.
One signature could restore my guarantee.
One check could cover the equity line.
I could turn myself back into the invisible foundation beneath their life.
“No,” I said.
Logan inhaled.
“I’m not going to save you from information you need to face.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is today.”
He hung up.
I stood there listening to traffic.
My hand shook slightly.
I put the phone in my pocket.
Then I drove back to the apartment.
Logan was sitting on the floor outside my door.
His tie was gone.
His sleeves were rolled unevenly.
He looked up at me.
“I put the money back.”
“Good.”
He stood.
I unlocked the door.
Inside, he saw the cardboard box.
His eyes moved to the watch on my wrist.
“You fixed it.”
“New strap.”
He touched the edge of the box but did not pick anything up.
“I should’ve known about the storage unit.”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“I thought I was taking care of you.”
That sentence surprised me.
“How?”
“I gave you a room.”
I waited.
He winced.
“I hear it.”
“Good.”
“I mean, when Mom died, I thought bringing you in was the right thing.”
“It was.”
“At first.”
“At first.”
He sat down.
“I think I started treating you like one more responsibility.”
The admission seemed to cost him.
I stayed standing.
“Chelsea would complain that you were always around.”
“I was living there.”
“I know.”
“I did try to be invisible.”
“That made it easier.”
There was Chelsea’s argument again.
Too easy.
I sat across from him.
“I am beginning to dislike how much truth there is in that sentence.”
He looked at the watch.
“Did Mom know about the money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Not what it is now.”
His eyes lifted.
“So Sophie was right.”
“What did Sophie tell you?”
“That you’re basically rich.”
“I am going to have a discussion with that child.”
For the first time, Logan smiled.
It lasted only a moment.
“How much do you have?”
“No.”
“Dad.”
“No.”
“You’re really not going to tell me?”
“Not today.”
“Why?”
“Because the number will become the center of every decision you make.”
He looked offended.
Then he stopped.
“Fair.”
“That was unexpectedly mature.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
I leaned back.
He rubbed his hands together.
“Fiona called me.”
I straightened.
“When?”
“On the way over.”
May you like
“What did she want?”
“She asked whether I signed Chelsea’s name on anything else.”
