Chương 6
“Your numbers look better.”
I nodded.
I wanted to believe that meant I was better too.
But there were still questions waiting for me.
Questions with my father’s name attached to them.
After I was discharged, Samantha picked me up.
She arrived ten minutes early.
Lucas would have liked her for that.
He always said people who arrived early were either responsible or hiding something.
Samantha told me once that Lucas was the only person she knew who could insult punctuality and compliment it in the same sentence.
The drive back was quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just quiet.
Syracuse passed outside the window.
People walking into coffee shops.
Cars stopping at red lights.
Someone carrying groceries across a parking lot.
Normal things.
It felt strange watching normal life continue.
“You don’t have to go home today,” Samantha said.
I looked at her.
“What?”
“You can stay somewhere else.”
I looked ahead.
“My home is still my home.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
“But?”
“But right now, your father knows how to get inside.”
The sentence sat between us.
That was the problem.
The house was mine.
But safety had become complicated.
When we arrived, the front yard looked exactly the same.
That almost made it worse.
The flowers Lucas planted were still there.
The mailbox still leaned slightly to the left because he never fixed it.
The porch where I fell still had the same wooden boards.
Except now I knew what had happened there.
Samantha parked.
“We don’t have to go inside.”
I looked at the front door.
“Yes, we do.”
She studied my face.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
I almost laughed.
“I’m just tired of being afraid of places that belong to me.”
She did not argue.
Inside, the house felt different.
Not because anything had changed.
Because I had.
The kitchen was exactly how we left it.
The mug Lucas used every morning was still beside the coffee machine.
His jacket was still hanging near the door.
A grocery list was still attached to the refrigerator with a small magnet from a trip we took to Vermont.
Milk.
Eggs.
Coffee.
Things that belonged to a future we thought we had.
I stood there longer than I expected.
Samantha waited.
She did not rush me.
That was one of the reasons Lucas trusted her.
She knew silence was sometimes the only respectful thing to offer.
Finally, I walked toward Lucas’s office.
The door was open.
The room was messy in a way that was completely him.
Papers stacked in places that looked random but somehow made sense to him.
A screwdriver beside a notebook.
A half-empty bottle of water on the desk.
I touched the chair.
“He sat here the night before.”
Samantha looked at me.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“He was working.”
“On what?”
I walked around the desk.
“I don’t know.”
Then I stopped.
There was something different.
Not obvious.
Not dramatic.
Just wrong.
The bottom drawer was slightly open.
I crouched carefully.
Samantha immediately moved toward me.
“Don’t.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“If there is evidence, we don’t want to disturb it.”
I pulled my hand back.
She called someone.
A few minutes later, Detective Alvarez arrived.
He was younger than I expected.
Maybe early forties.
Tired eyes.
The kind of face that looked like it had listened to too many people explain why they were innocent.
He greeted me politely.
“Mrs. Gallagher.”
“Victoria is fine.”
He nodded.
“Victoria.”
He looked around the office.
“Your attorney told me about the documents.”
“Yes.”
“And the drawer?”
“I noticed it was open.”
“Was it open before yesterday?”
I thought.
“No.”
“Can you be certain?”
I looked at the drawer.
“No.”
He nodded.
“I appreciate that answer.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because people usually tell me what they wish they knew.”
He glanced around.
“They don’t always tell me what they actually know.”
That sounded like something Lucas would say.
Detective Alvarez examined the desk.
“What are we looking for?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s honest.”
Samantha stepped forward.
“We believe someone removed financial documents.”
The detective looked at her.
“Believe or know?”
She paused.
“Believe.”
He nodded.
“That difference matters.”
I liked him immediately.
Not because he promised anything.
Because he did not.
Too many people had spent my life telling me what they wanted me to hear.
Charles promised control.
Courtney promised calm.
Even well-meaning relatives promised things would get better.
Detective Alvarez only offered facts.
He opened the drawer carefully.
Inside were old receipts, pens, and a small black notebook.
He picked it up.
“Is this your husband’s?”
I stepped closer.
“Yes.”
He opened the cover.
The first page had Lucas’s handwriting.
Truck maintenance.
Employee notes.
Numbers.
Nothing unusual.
Then he turned a few pages.
His expression changed slightly.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
There was a list.
Not of money.
Names.
Charles Baldwin.
Courtney Baldwin.
A former company accountant.
And two employees from Lucas’s office.
Next to each name were dates.
I looked at Samantha.
“What is this?”
She took the notebook.
“I don’t know.”
Detective Alvarez pointed to one entry.
“Do you recognize this date?”
I looked.
March 14.
My birthday.
I remembered that day.
Lucas had taken me to dinner.
He had left work early.
He brought me flowers that he claimed were from a gas station because he forgot to order them.
I smiled despite myself.
Then I noticed the note beside the date.
Meeting.
C.B.
My smile disappeared.
“Charles met with him?”
Samantha looked at the page.
“Who?”
“The accountant.”
The detective wrote something down.
“Did your husband ever mention concerns about this accountant?”
“No.”
I looked at the name.
I knew him.
Everyone at Baldwin-Gallagher knew him.
Mark Ellison.
He had worked with Lucas for four years.
He handled company finances.
He had attended our wedding.
He gave Lucas a fishing rod as a gift because Lucas once mentioned wanting to learn.
Small details.
Normal details.
The kind that made betrayal harder to imagine.
May you like
Samantha closed the notebook.
“We need copies of everything.”
