Chương 9
"That does not make every response wise."
"I didn't say I wanted revenge."
"You don't have to."
The room went still.
Dana examined the lid of her thermos with sudden fascination.
Priya slid the revocation document into a folder.
I folded my arms.
"Then tell me what the wise response is."
"Cancel."
Marcus's answer came immediately.
"Tell Grant the wedding is off and refer every financial question to counsel."
"And give him time to destroy records?"
"Those aren't your records."
"His company may be investigating him."
"Exactly."
Marcus leaned forward.
"You are not responsible for proving their case."
"But if he stole money—"
"If he stole money, the company and law enforcement deal with it."
"He came after my house."
"And your job is to protect your house."
His voice sharpened.
"Not become the detective, prosecutor, and executioner because you're angry."
"I am angry."
"I know."
"You'd be angry too."
"I am angry."
He stopped.
That surprised me more than anything he had said.
Marcus looked away toward the conference-room window.
"I stood beside your sister's hospital bed with you."
My breath caught.
Priya quietly gathered her papers and moved to the far end of the table.
Marcus continued without looking at me.
"I watched you figure out how to raise those girls while you were still grieving her."
His jaw tightened.
"So yes, hearing that somebody looked at what she left them and saw money makes me very angry."
I did not move.
"But anger does not get to practice law for me."
He finally looked back.
"And it doesn't get to make decisions for you."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Dana's phone buzzed.
She checked it and said, "I have to take this."
She stepped into the hall.
I rubbed my thumb over the edge of Priya's folder.
"What if I cancel and he comes to the house?"
"Change the alarm code."
"What if he has belongings there?"
"We arrange retrieval."
"What if he tells the children?"
"You tell them first."
"What if he tells everyone I'm unstable?"
Marcus shrugged.
"Some people will believe him."
The answer irritated me.
"That's comforting."
"You asked what happens."
Priya returned to her chair.
"Public opinion is not property law."
"It matters when ninety-eight people are coming to your wedding."
"Yes."
She gave me a tired little smile.
"But ninety-eight people will survive confusion."
Before I could answer, Dana returned.
Her expression had changed again.
"Grant's employer has retained outside counsel."
Marcus sat straighter.
"Confirmed?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"The vendor complaint triggered a review several weeks ago."
I felt my pulse in my throat.
"Several weeks?"
"That's what I'm told."
"So Grant knew."
"Almost certainly."
Dana sat down.
"There is also an internal demand letter."
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
"To Grant?"
"Yes."
"How did you learn that?"
"Counsel for the vendor was told about it during settlement discussions because the company is claiming certain approvals may have been unauthorized."
"What does the letter demand?"
"Repayment of disputed funds or an accounting for them."
"Amount?"
Dana hesitated.
"Approximately one hundred seventy-eight thousand dollars."
The number struck me with a strange sense of recognition.
Not because I had heard it.
Because fear had already invented something close to it during the night.
I sat back slowly.
"So my imagination was accidentally near the truth."
"Accidentally," Marcus emphasized.
Dana nodded.
"And that's important."
"When is the deadline?"
"End of the month."
"Criminal referral?"
"Threatened if the internal review supports fraud."
"Not already filed?"
"Not according to anything I can verify."
That distinction mattered.
The version in my head had already placed deputies at the chapel.
Reality, as usual, was slower and less theatrical.
Grant was not a wanted fugitive.
He was a terminated employee facing a financial demand and possible criminal exposure.
That should have made me feel safer.
It did not.
My phone rang.
Grant.
We all looked at it.
Marcus said, "You don't have to answer."
I picked it up anyway.
"Hi."
"Hey."
His voice was breathless.
"Did you call the bank?"
"I'm still in meetings."
"What meetings?"
I looked at Marcus.
"Work."
"I thought you weren't going in."
"I'm not at the studio."
"Where are you?"
The question came too fast.
My body tightened.
"Running errands."
"What errands?"
"Wedding errands."
He laughed.
The sound was thin.
"Right."
I heard a car door close.
Then another voice in the distance.
Grant moved somewhere quieter.
"Can you transfer even ten?"
"Ten thousand?"
"Yes."
"I haven't checked."
"Mara, I really need you to do this."
"I know."
"No, I don't think you do."
His voice dropped.
"This can become a very serious problem for me."
"What kind of problem?"
"A financial one."
"Then tell me."
"When?"
"Tonight."
"Why not now?"
"Because I'm standing in a parking lot."
"Where?"
Silence.
Grant's breathing changed.
"Why are you interrogating me?"
"I'm asking where you are."
"And yesterday you trusted me."
The sentence was not loud.
That made it worse.
I stared at the wall.
"What does that mean?"
"It means we've been together two and a half years."
"I know."
"We're supposed to be married tomorrow."
"Saturday."
Another pause.
"Jesus, Mara."
"What?"
"I know when my wedding is."
"You got it wrong twice."
"I haven't slept."
"Neither have I."
"Why haven't you slept?"
Every person around the table became motionless.
I could hear Grant thinking through the phone.
Not words.
Just the space before them.
Finally, he said, "Is something going on?"
My mouth went dry.
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
The lie came more smoothly than I liked.
Grant exhaled.
"Okay."
"Why would something be going on?"
"I don't know."
He laughed once.
"You sound different."
"Wedding nerves."
"That's what I said last night."
"You were probably right."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, "I'll see you at rehearsal."
"Yes."
"Three o'clock."
"Yes."
"I love you."
"I know."
The words escaped before I could correct them.
Grant went silent.
Marcus closed his eyes.
May you like
I pressed my hand to my forehead.
Grant said, very softly, "You know?"
