Chương 11
Chloe looked down.
“What about Sylvia?”
“That depends on what she believes she is protecting.”
“Marcus.”
“Probably.”
“Always Marcus.”
There was history in those two words.
“How bad was she with you?”
Chloe laughed softly.
“You mean before she helped assault me?”
“Yes.”
“She wasn’t always awful.”
That surprised me.
“She could be funny.”
“What?”
“She used to call Marcus ‘The Senator’ because he answered yes-or-no questions with five-minute explanations.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
“That is accurate.”
“She once drove across town at midnight because I had food poisoning and Marcus was traveling.”
“Did you call her?”
“No.”
“He did.”
Chloe picked at a loose thread on the blanket.
“She stayed until morning.”
I let that sit.
“She liked me at first,” Chloe said.
“What changed?”
“I stopped agreeing with him.”
“That was enough?”
“Not immediately.”
She looked tired.
“It was little things.”
“She started correcting me in front of people.”
“She’d tell stories where Marcus was always the reasonable one and I was always emotional.”
“Then she started asking whether I was supportive enough of his career.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
She looked angry again.
“I moved twice for him.”
“I know.”
“I delayed applying for management because his promotion meant longer hours and somebody had to keep the house functioning.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“No.”
There it was again.
A fact from my daughter’s life that had never reached me because I had accepted whatever version appeared polished enough for family dinners.
“Did you want the management job?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“They filled it.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged and immediately winced.
“You can stop apologizing for every missing piece.”
“I’m afraid there are more.”
“There are.”
The honesty stung.
Before I could ask, the curtain opened.
Detective Park entered with a second woman.
She wore a dark suit, no visible badge, and carried a leather folder.
She was around fifty, with close-cropped silver hair and the kind of stillness that made rooms organize themselves around her.
Park said, “Eleanor, Chloe, this is Special Agent Dana Webb.”
The woman looked at me.
“Former Assistant United States Attorney Bennett.”
I had not heard the title applied to me in years.
“Retired.”
“So I was told.”
She turned to Chloe.
“Ms. Bennett, I am with the FBI.”
Chloe went pale.
Agent Webb noticed.
“This does not mean you are under arrest.”
“That is an alarming way to introduce yourself.”
Webb’s mouth almost curved.
“Fair.”
She pulled a chair closer but did not sit until Chloe nodded.
“Your husband contacted our duty line this morning.”
I looked at Park.
She already knew.
“What did he report?” Chloe asked.
“That proprietary corporate data was stolen through unauthorized access.”
“By me.”
“He named you.”
Chloe’s hand tightened around the blanket.
Webb continued.
“He also alleged an extortion attempt.”
“I never asked him for money.”
“That is one reason I’m here.”
“Only one?”
“No.”
Webb opened the folder.
“Marcus Devereaux also claimed the data you obtained was fabricated.”
Chloe stared at her.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe.”
“It came from his account.”
“That is another reason I’m here.”
Webb looked at me briefly before returning her attention to Chloe.
“Approximately forty minutes after his initial report, his company’s general counsel contacted us separately.”
My pulse quickened.
“What did counsel say?”
Webb answered Chloe.
“That Marcus Devereaux does not have authority to speak for the company regarding the alleged theft.”
Chloe blinked.
“Why not?”
“Because this morning, before the fire, the company placed him on administrative leave.”
Silence.
Chloe whispered, “Before the fire?”
“Yes.”
“Who authorized that?”
“General counsel and the board’s audit committee.”
“What about Mercer?”
Webb paused.
“David Mercer has also been placed on leave.”
I stopped folding the sugar packet.
Chloe stared.
“Why?”
“Internal concerns related to vendor payments.”
“Because of what I found?”
“Not exactly.”
Webb closed the folder.
“The company says it received an anonymous whistleblower package three weeks ago.”
Chloe’s face changed.
“That wasn’t me.”
“I believe you.”
“How?”
“Because the package included records dated after the last files you say you accessed.”
I felt the room tilt in a new direction.
Someone else had been watching the same money.
Someone else had moved first.
Chloe asked the question before I could.
“Who sent it?”
“We don’t know.”
“What was in it?”
“I can’t discuss everything.”
“Redwood?”
Webb looked at Park.
Then back at Chloe.
“Yes.”
The answer barely left her mouth before another thought struck me.
“If the company already knew about Redwood three weeks ago, why was Mercer still CEO yesterday?”
“Internal investigations take time.”
“Or someone delayed it.”
Webb held my gaze.
“Both possibilities exist.”
Chloe whispered, “Marcus knew.”
“We don’t know that.”
“He had to.”
Webb shook her head.
“No.”
Then she opened the folder again.
“There is another detail you need to hear before you decide what your husband knew.”
Chloe braced herself.
Webb placed a photocopy on the tray table.
It was a vendor approval sheet.
Redwood Strategic Services appeared at the top.
Below it were two signatures.
One belonged to Marcus.
The other belonged to Mercer.
But beside Marcus’s signature was a date from almost eighteen months earlier.
Chloe stared at it.
“That’s before Vanessa.”
Webb nodded.
“According to what you told Detective Park, yes.”
Chloe looked up.
“Then this didn’t start because of the affair.”
“No.”
The entire shape of the morning shifted.
Vanessa was still connected.
Marcus was still violent.
Sylvia had still helped him.
But the easy version, mistress plus fake vendor plus greedy husband, had just become less easy.
Webb tapped the document.
“And there is one more reason we are being careful.”
“What?”
“The signature on this approval may not be Marcus’s.”
Chloe stared at her.
“Forged?”
“We are not saying that yet.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Webb looked from Chloe to me.
May you like
“We are saying someone may have been using his authorization before Vanessa Cole entered his life.”
And for the first time since dawn, the possibility appeared that Marcus could be guilty of hurting my daughter while still being only one piece of something larger.
