Chương 8
Emily stared through the narrow conference room window.
“Property.”
“The necklace, for one.”
“What else?”
“Her lawyer would not say.”
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
“I want to be there.”
“No.”
“Arthur.”
“No.”
“She emailed me.”
“And you forwarded it to counsel, which was correct.”
“You’re saying that because it benefits you.”
“It benefits you.”
“I want to hear her.”
Arthur was silent.
Then he said, “Why?”
Emily almost gave him the obvious answer.
Because Chloe slept with my husband.
Because she wore my grandmother’s necklace.
Because she stood beside Richard in court looking smug.
Instead she said, “I want to know what version of him she got.”
Arthur exhaled.
“That is not a legal reason.”
“I didn’t ask for one.”
“It is also likely to hurt.”
“I know.”
“Her attorney may refuse if you are present.”
“Ask.”
He did.
Chloe agreed.
They met at Arthur’s office at three.
Chloe arrived in gray trousers, flat shoes, and a plain black sweater. Without courtroom hair and makeup, she looked younger and more exhausted.
She carried no handbag.
Her attorney, a woman named Denise Calder, carried one slim folder.
Emily sat across from them.
Arthur sat beside her.
No one offered coffee.
Denise began.
“My client is here voluntarily. She has not been promised anything by any government authority. She is not admitting knowledge of any wrongdoing.”
Arthur nodded.
“Understood.”
Chloe looked at Emily.
“I’m sorry about the necklace.”
Emily said nothing.
Chloe swallowed.
“Richard said his mother gave it to him before she died.”
“His mother is alive,” Emily said.
Chloe blinked.
Denise touched her arm.
Chloe stared at the table.
“He told me she died when he was twenty-six.”
“No.”
Emily felt an unexpected, vicious urge to laugh.
Richard’s mother, Patricia Vance, lived in Sarasota and sent aggressively cheerful Christmas newsletters.
Chloe looked embarrassed.
Emily almost enjoyed it.
Then she saw the way Chloe’s hands had gone still.
The pleasure disappeared.
“What happened the night he gave it to you?” Arthur asked.
Chloe looked at him.
“December fourteenth. We were at his apartment.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
Richard had rented the apartment before they separated, supposedly because renovations at their home made commuting difficult.
She had believed that for three months.
Chloe continued.
“He had been drinking. Not a lot. Two glasses of whiskey, maybe. He brought out this wooden box and gave me the necklace.”
“What did he say?” Arthur asked.
“That it had belonged to his mother.”
Her mouth twisted.
“I guess we established that part.”
Emily looked away.
Chloe continued.
“There were papers in the box.”
Arthur leaned slightly forward.
“What kind?”
“I don’t know. Corporate documents, I think. One had Emily’s name. I made a joke that he was keeping business paperwork with jewelry.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘That box paid for the jewelry.’”
Emily looked at Arthur.
He did not react.
Chloe’s voice became quieter.
“I asked what that meant. Richard said something like, ‘Never let a signature go to waste.’”
Denise interrupted.
“My client cannot guarantee exact wording.”
“I know,” Chloe said. “I’m telling them what I remember.”
Arthur asked, “Did you see the documents again?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two months later. He was moving things to a storage unit.”
Emily’s pulse quickened.
“Where?”
Denise glanced at Chloe, then at Arthur.
“My client has provided the location information.”
Arthur opened his hand.
Denise slid a page across.
Arthur read.
His expression did not change.
Emily hated that.
“What?”
He passed it to her.
A private storage facility twenty minutes outside the city.
Unit 317.
Rented under a limited liability company Emily recognized.
Larkspur Consulting.
“What is this?” she asked.
Chloe looked at her.
“Richard said he used it for old records.”
Emily stared at the company name.
Larkspur Consulting had received nearly six hundred thousand dollars in “strategic advisory fees” from Vance Meridian over three years.
Richard claimed it was an outside consulting firm.
Arthur’s forensic accountants had been trying to identify the beneficial owner.
Emily looked at Chloe.
“Who owns Larkspur?”
“I thought Richard did.”
Arthur’s voice sharpened.
“Why?”
“He said it was his.”
“Do you have that in writing?”
Chloe thought.
“Maybe.”
Denise turned toward her.
“Chloe.”
“I’m not saying I definitely do.”
“What kind of message?” Arthur asked.
“He texted me once about paying the storage bill. He said something like, ‘Larkspur card is in the desk.’”
Arthur wrote something.
Emily’s mouth went dry.
“Did you use the card?”
“No.”
“Did you ever go to the unit?”
“Twice.”
“With Richard?”
“Yes.”
“What was inside?”
“Boxes. A safe. Some art. Files.”
Emily leaned forward.
“A safe?”
“Small. Black.”
“What was in it?”
“I don’t know.”
Richard kept a black document safe in their home office.
It disappeared the week Emily left the hospital.
She reported it during discovery.
Richard testified he had never seen it.
Arthur said, “Can you identify the safe?”
“Yes.”
Emily’s fingernails pressed into her palm.
Arthur noticed.
He placed his pen down.
“Emily.”
“I’m fine.”
Chloe flinched at the phrase.
Emily saw it.
Again.
“What?” Emily asked.
Chloe looked at Denise.
Denise gave a slight nod.
Chloe said, “He says that.”
“Who?”
“Richard. About you.”
Emily went cold.
“What does he say?”
Chloe seemed to regret beginning.
Emily waited.
“He says you always say you’re fine when you’re about to do something irrational.”
A laugh escaped Emily.
It sounded ugly.
“Of course he does.”
“I believed him.”
“I know.”
Chloe’s eyes filled slightly, but she blinked the moisture away.
“He told me you attacked him once.”
Emily stared at her.
“He said you threw a lamp at him and broke the bathroom mirror.”
The room went very quiet.
Emily looked at Arthur.
He had seen the photograph of the bathroom.
The broken mirror.
Blood on the tile.
Richard told police, when a neighbor called after hearing noise, that the damage occurred during an argument and Emily had already gone to bed.
No one was arrested.
Emily had refused to speak to the officers privately.
May you like
“What else?” she asked.
Chloe rubbed her thumb along one fingernail.
