Chương 7
“I could not.”
“I know that now.”
The call ended without either of them saying goodbye.
Two days later, the museum terminated Mara’s leave and offered her a choice between resignation with severance or an internal review. Dr. Hargrove advised her to take the severance. He spoke as though recommending a careful varnish treatment.
Mara chose the review.
It was not wise. The severance would have covered three months of rent. Her health insurance premium was due. She chose the review because Eleanor expected her to disappear politely.
That evening, Mara returned to physical therapy.
She had skipped two sessions before the wedding while following jewelry records and studying photographs. Her therapist, Denise, made no comment about the viral video. She only pointed toward the treadmill.
“You are limping again.”
“I have been busy.”
“Your hip is unimpressed.”
Mara walked for twelve minutes at a slow incline. Sweat gathered beneath her borrowed T-shirt. An older man exercised beside her while watching a cooking show with subtitles. Each time the chef added butter, he shook his head.
Afterward, Denise worked on the scar tissue along Mara’s shoulder.
“People think healing means returning to the condition before injury,” Denise said. “Bodies rarely agree.”
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“No. It is supposed to stop you from treating pain as personal failure.”
Mara stared at the ceiling tile above the table. One corner had a brown water stain shaped like Florida.
“I put evidence in champagne.”
“I saw.”
“Everyone saw.”
“It was not your most clinical decision.”
Mara laughed despite herself.
When she returned home, Martin Keene was waiting on the front steps.
He wore a navy overcoat and no tie. Without the tuxedo, he looked less like a witness and more like a man who had not slept since the wedding.
“You should not be here,” Mara said.
“I agree.”
“Did Officer Cho tell you not to contact me?”
“Yes.”
“And yet.”
He looked toward the street. “Eleanor believes Adrian is giving you company information.”
“Is he?”
“I am asking.”
“You were at the crash.”
Martin’s eyes closed briefly.
Mara unlocked the building door but did not open it.
“Ben spoke to you,” she said.
He flinched.
That was enough.
“What did he say?”
“I cannot do this here.”
“My apartment is upstairs.”
“I cannot do it there either.”
“Then why did you come?”
“To warn you.”
“About what?”
“Eleanor has retained criminal counsel. The company is reviewing every file Adrian accessed in the last three years. She will argue that you manufactured your memory after obsessing over public photographs.”
“I did not manufacture metal in my face.”
“She will say you cannot prove when it entered your injury.”
“The surgeon’s records can.”
“She will challenge custody of the specimen.”
“Are you helping her?”
“No.”
“You are telling me her strategy.”
“I know how she thinks.”
“You taught her.”
Martin’s mouth tightened.
A bus sighed to a stop at the corner. Three passengers got off. One glanced at Mara, recognized her, and kept walking.
“What did Ben say?” Mara asked again.
Martin stared at the building’s brass door handle.
“He asked whether you were breathing.”
The answer entered Mara slowly.
“What?”
“He could not move his head. He asked if the woman in the passenger seat was breathing.”
Mara leaned against the door.
“What did you tell him?”
“That you were alive.”
“And then?”
“He said to call an ambulance.”
“Had you?”
Martin said nothing.
“How long?”
“I do not know.”
“You are a lawyer. You know the time.”
“Nine minutes.”
The street seemed to empty around them.
“Nine minutes before anyone called?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Martin’s voice dropped. “Eleanor told me to move Adrian into my car. She wanted the bottles removed from the SUV. There was powder on his coat. She said if the police found him like that, he would go to prison or die in custody. She kept saying we needed one minute.”
“Nine times.”
“Yes.”
“Where was Malcolm?”
“At home. She called him after we moved Adrian.”
“Why did he come?”
“She told him there had been an accident and she needed help.”
“Did he know he would take the blame?”
“Not then.”
Mara looked at Martin’s hands. They were shaking.
“Who was driving?”
He lifted his eyes to hers.
“You know.”
“I want you to say it.”
“Eleanor.”
Mara pushed the building door open and stepped inside because her knees had begun to tremble.
Martin followed her into the vestibule but stopped before the stairs.
“Tell the police,” she said.
“I have.”
She turned.
“I gave an initial statement this morning.”
Relief came first, so sudden it hurt. Then suspicion.
“Why?”
“At the wedding, when the bracelet hit the glass, I remembered the sound it made on the road.”
“What sound?”
“It struck the pavement when the clasp broke. I picked it up. Eleanor told me to put it in my pocket.”
“You kept it?”
“Until we reached the clinic. She took it from me.”
“Why did you catch the glass?”
“I do not know. Reflex.”
“That is not why.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I thought if it shattered, everything would disappear again.”
Mara sat on the bottom stair.
Martin remained standing.
“Did the delay kill Ben?”
“The medical examiner will not say that. The injuries were severe.”
“That was not my question.”
“I do not know.”
“Did Eleanor check him?”
“She went to your side first. She pulled you through the window. The bracelet caught on broken glass and snapped. She had your blood on her hands.”
“Why did she save me?”
Martin looked almost angry.
“Because she is not simple enough to be the person you want her to be.”
“I want her to be the person who called for help.”
“She was not.”
Mara stared at the row of mailboxes. Someone had taped a flyer above them for a lost parakeet. The bird was yellow and named Arthur.
May you like
“Why did you obey her?” she asked.
“At first, because Adrian was barely breathing. Then because the first bad decision made the second one easier. After that, there were lawyers, money, Malcolm’s son, and statements already signed. I kept telling myself I would correct one piece without collapsing the rest.”
