Part 8
A news alert appeared with a photograph of Seraphine surrounded by patrol boats.
LUXURY YACHT SEARCHED IN MISSING CREWMAN INVESTIGATION.
Adrian’s publicist issued a statement before dawn. Mr. Vale was cooperating fully with authorities regarding a former employee who had voluntarily left his position abroad. Any suggestion of wrongdoing was irresponsible and false. A private marital dispute had unfortunately been exploited to create a misleading public spectacle.
Mara read the statement twice.
Celeste took the phone from her hand and placed it facedown.
“You need sleep.”
“He called it a marital dispute.”
“Of course he did.”
“He’ll say I fabricated the documents because I wanted money.”
“Probably.”
“He’ll say I’m unstable.”
“He already has.”
“The lenders will freeze the credit line.”
“They might.”
“Payroll is Friday.”
Celeste leaned against the counter. “There are twenty-three thousand employees in companies you do not control tonight.”
“I helped build them.”
“Yes.”
“They shouldn’t lose jobs because I—”
“Because Adrian concealed a death?”
Mara looked at the toast.
Celeste’s voice softened. “You are doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Moving responsibility until it lands somewhere you can carry it.”
“I was chief financial officer.”
“You were not chief officer of every human decision.”
“I signed the refinancing documents.”
“With false maintenance certifications attached.”
“My authorization stamp was on one.”
“Without your knowledge.”
“That is what everyone says when their signature becomes inconvenient.”
Celeste pulled out the stool beside her. “Then help prove what happened. But do not confuse accepting your part with accepting all of it.”
Mara rubbed her eyes.
The refrigerator compressor clicked off. The sudden quiet made the house feel small.
“Do you remember the first dinner I brought Adrian to?” she asked.
Celeste nodded. “He sent back a bottle of wine because the label was crooked.”
“You hated him.”
“I disliked him. Hate requires commitment.”
“You said he watched people like he was pricing them.”
“He priced me low.”
“I thought you were jealous.”
“I was.”
Mara looked at her.
Celeste shrugged. “You were in love. Your career was taking off. He flew you to Paris for forty-eight hours because you once said you wanted to see the water lilies at the Orangerie. I was thirty and sleeping above a flower shop with a leaking roof.”
“You never told me that.”
“It was ugly. I waited for the relationship to fail so I could feel correct.”
“Did you?”
“For a while.”
The honesty hurt and comforted at once.
Celeste looked toward the dark window over the sink.
“Then you stopped laughing,” she said. “Not entirely. Just around him. You started checking his face before finishing stories. I stopped caring whether I had been right.”
Mara’s phone vibrated again.
This time the message was from Vivian.
Do not return to the house. He has instructed security to deny you access. I have told them otherwise, but I cannot guarantee they will obey me. I will arrange for your belongings to be delivered.
A second message followed.
I am sorry.
Mara stared at the two words.
Celeste read over her shoulder. “Do you believe her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“It is better than deciding too quickly.”
Mara slept for ninety minutes.
At seven, she woke to the sound of metal racks rolling across the store below. Florists were preparing for a hotel wedding. Someone laughed. Someone else cursed because a shipment of ranunculus had arrived warm.
Ordinary work continued beneath the room where Mara’s life had split open.
She lay still and listened.
At eight fifteen, Investigator Mercer called.
The hidden recorder had captured Adrian discussing a payment to Blue Arc Medical Transport, a company dissolved three months after Rafael disappeared. The company’s registered manager was a former paramedic named Nolan Price. Price had withdrawn cash from Vale Maritime accounts through a subcontracting arrangement.
Mercer asked Mara to come to the county offices at ten.
She dressed in black trousers and a blue blouse borrowed from Celeste. The sleeves were too short. Concealer reduced the redness around the scratch but did not hide it.
“Leave it,” Celeste said from the doorway.
“I have a meeting.”
“With investigators, not a cosmetics campaign.”
“I don’t want it photographed again.”
“That makes sense.”
Mara wiped away the concealer.
At the Harbor Investigations Unit, Mercer led her into a conference room where three attorneys already waited. One represented the county. One represented the Ortiz family. The third, Daniel Cho, had advised Mara during the preservation request and divorce filing.
Daniel stood when she entered.
“You should not answer questions without me,” he said.
Mara sat. “Good morning to you too.”
He glanced at her cheek. “Did you document that?”
“Several people did.”
“This is not amusing.”
“I wasn’t amused.”
Elena sat beside her attorney at the opposite end of the table. She wore the same gray sweatshirt from the marina and held a paper cup with both hands. She did not greet Mara.
Mercer connected a laptop to the wall display.
“We recovered portions of encrypted bridge audio,” she said. “We are still establishing authenticity and continuity. I’m going to play a section recorded eight months after Mr. Ortiz disappeared.”
Static filled the room.
Then Adrian’s voice.
You were paid to transfer him, not create a second problem.
A man answered, muffled.
Adrian again: No hospital. That was explicit.
The man said something about breathing.
Adrian: He was alive when he left my vessel.
A pause.
Then: Don’t call me again. Use Garrison.
The recording ended.
Elena’s cup collapsed slightly beneath her fingers.
“Who is Garrison?” her attorney asked.
Mara said, “Peter Garrison. Adrian’s outside counsel.”
Daniel looked at her sharply. “Do not speculate.”
“I’m not.”
Mercer said, “Mr. Garrison is also listed as attorney for Blue Arc Medical Transport during its dissolution.”
The county attorney slid a document across the table. “We need access to Vale Maritime’s payment authorization system.”
“I can provide historical architecture and user roles,” Mara said. “I no longer have active credentials.”
May you like
“When were they disabled?”
“Last night, shortly after the boarding.”
