Chương 11
The county officer looked at the ceiling.
Adrian’s eyes moved to Maya.
“No,” Maya said.
Lucia frowned. “Why?”
“Because I have my own life.”
This was technically true. A ruined life was still one’s own.
“Where?”
Maya searched for an answer.
Adrian saved her, though she did not appreciate it.
“Maya gets to decide where she lives,” he said.
“Can she decide our house?”
“She could.”
“No,” Maya repeated.
Lucia leaned against his chest.
“You both say no too much.”
Elena turned a page she had not read.
At the end of the visit, Adrian stood near the front door while the county officer completed paperwork.
He held a small paper bag.
“For you,” he said to Maya.
“I don’t take gifts.”
“It’s your shoe.”
She looked inside.
The damaged shoe had been cleaned. The broken strap remained broken.
“You had someone retrieve it?”
“It was evidence. Police released the warehouse property this morning.”
“Why clean it?”
“It had oil on it.”
Maya turned the shoe over in her hand.
“You could’ve thrown it away.”
“You might have wanted it.”
“I don’t.”
“All right.”
He took the bag back without argument.
The lack of argument irritated her.
“Why didn’t you fix the strap?”
He glanced at the shoe. “I thought you would accuse me of controlling footwear.”
Maya stared at him.
Elena made a sound in the next room that might have been a cough.
Adrian’s mouth shifted.
It was the first time Maya saw him smile.
The expression made him look younger and more tired.
He left with the shoe.
Vincent’s second phone contained encrypted messaging applications, photographs of shipping manifests, and deleted location searches for Lucia’s school, the Calder loading lot, St. Vincent’s Hospital, and Elena’s house.
It also contained a recording.
Vincent had recorded a meeting with Adrian’s wife two weeks before her death.
Detective Ortiz played part of it for Adrian and Elena in Elena’s study. Maya was not family, not counsel, and not law enforcement, but Adrian asked her to stay.
Sofia Vale’s voice emerged through the detective’s laptop, quiet and strained.
“I need time away from him.”
Vincent answered gently. “He won’t allow it.”
“He doesn’t have to allow it.”
“You know how he is when he thinks he’s losing something.”
“I know exactly how he is.”
A chair moved on the recording.
Sofia continued. “I’m taking Lucia to Elena’s for a few weeks. I need you to make sure Adrian doesn’t send people after us.”
“I can manage him,” Vincent said.
“You’ve been managing him since he was nineteen.”
“He trusts me.”
“That’s why I’m asking.”
The recording ended.
Elena sat rigidly beside the desk.
Adrian looked at nothing.
Ortiz said, “There are six more files. Some appear to be conversations with your wife. Others involve Grayhaven payments. We’re still reviewing them.”
“Did Sofia know Vincent was recording?” Camille asked.
“No indication.”
“Why keep it?” Maya asked.
Ortiz closed the laptop halfway. “Insurance. Leverage. Sentiment. We don’t know.”
Adrian’s voice was rougher than usual.
“Was there anything about the crash?”
“Not directly.”
Elena stood.
“You made her ask Vincent for permission to leave you.”
Adrian looked at his sister.
“I did not know.”
“That isn’t a defense.”
“I did not say it was.”
“You always say you were protecting them. From enemies. From the press. From us. She had to meet one of your employees in secret because she was afraid you’d stop her from visiting me.”
“I know what the recording said.”
“You know words. You don’t know what it was like to watch her disappear inside your house.”
Adrian rose.
Maya expected anger.
He looked sick.
“I loved her.”
Elena laughed once, and the sound was ugly with grief.
“That was the problem. You loved her like possession was devotion.”
Adrian walked toward the door.
Lucia stood in the hallway.
No one had heard her approach.
She wore Maya’s denim jacket over pink pajamas and held the stuffed rabbit by one ear.
“Papa?”
Adrian stopped.
Lucia looked from him to Elena. “Are you fighting?”
Elena wiped her face with the heel of her hand.
“No, honey.”
“You are.”
Adrian crouched.
“We’re talking about Mama.”
“Did Mama leave because of me?”
The adults went still.
Maya crossed the room and knelt beside her.
“No.”
Lucia looked at her father.
Adrian’s voice almost failed.
“Never because of you.”
“Because of you?”
He could have lied.
Maya saw the choice.
“Partly,” he said.
Lucia’s forehead wrinkled.
“Did you make her sad?”
“Yes.”
“Did you say sorry?”
“Not enough.”
She considered that with the solemnity children reserved for simple questions adults had ruined.
“You can say it when you see her.”
Adrian lowered his eyes.
Elena turned away.
Maya put an arm around Lucia’s shoulders.
“Your mama died,” she said gently. “Remember?”
Lucia nodded. “But Papa says she hears me.”
Adrian looked at Maya.
She did not correct him in front of the child.
Lucia touched his cheek.
“Say it anyway.”
He covered her hand with his.
“All right.”
Later, Maya found Adrian sitting alone on the back steps despite the cold. The county officer stood inside the glass door, close enough to monitor and far enough to pretend privacy.
Maya brought out two mugs of coffee.
“I don’t want that,” Adrian said.
“It isn’t a gift.”
She set it beside him.
He picked it up after a minute.
The garden smelled of wet soil and cedar. Somewhere beyond the reservoir road, a leaf blower whined with absurd determination.
“Sofia’s brake line was cut,” Adrian said.
Maya sat two steps above him.
“I thought it ruptured.”
“That was the official conclusion.”
“Why are you changing your mind?”
“Vincent recommended the mechanic who inspected it after the crash. The mechanic later received a Grayhaven payment.”
Maya held the mug between both palms.
“Tell Ortiz.”
“I did.”
“Good.”
“I should have seen it.”
“Probably.”
He looked back at her.
“You could lie occasionally.”
“I did. I told Lucy I have a life.”
May you like
“You do.”
“You’ve seen no evidence.”
