Chương 9
Vincent exhaled what might have been a laugh.
“Detective Brooks told me not to contact you.”
“And yet.”
“I’m poor at instruction.”
“I noticed.”
Another pause.
Vincent said, “I wanted you to hear from me before the news.”
Rachel’s grip tightened.
“What news?”
“Marcus was charged this morning.”
“With poisoning?”
“Attempted murder. Other charges may follow.”
Rachel looked toward the living room.
Emily was building something with plastic blocks.
“Does Adrian remember anything?”
“Some.”
“Does he remember Marcus?”
“Yes.”
Rachel waited.
Vincent did not continue.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“He remembers asking Marcus to meet him.”
Rachel sat.
“Why?”
“Adrian had evidence Marcus was stealing from our company.”
There it was.
A motive large enough for the newspapers.
Money.
People understood money.
It was easier than trust.
“How much?”
“Possibly millions.”
Rachel stared at the wall.
“And Vincent?”
“Yes.”
“Emily doesn’t need to know the number.”
“I agree.”
“She’s already starting to think she solved everything.”
“I don’t think she believes that.”
“She told Danielle she noticed what adults missed.”
“She did.”
“That’s not the same as being responsible for what happens next.”
Vincent was quiet.
Rachel softened.
“I’m not accusing you.”
“I know.”
“I just want her to be eight.”
“Yes.”
His answer came immediately.
Something about that mattered.
Vincent continued.
“I also need to apologize.”
“For?”
“The paid leave.”
Rachel laughed once.
“That is a strange thing to apologize for.”
“I was informed it was inappropriate.”
“By who?”
“Several people.”
“Brooks?”
“Brooks. My lawyer. Apparently my communications director. She used the phrase optics, which made me want to fire her.”
“Don’t fire someone for telling you the truth.”
“I don’t.”
“That sounded like a lie.”
“It was incomplete.”
Rachel smiled despite herself.
Vincent said, “Bellamy House will follow its normal employee policy. Separately, your lawyer—”
“My what?”
“You should have one.”
“I cannot afford one.”
“I anticipated that sentence.”
“No.”
“I haven’t offered anything yet.”
“You were about to.”
“I was about to tell you that the city has a witness-assistance referral network, and Brooks gave me the number after I irritated her.”
Rachel was silent.
Vincent said, “I am attempting to improve.”
“That sounds painful.”
“Extremely.”
She laughed.
He did not.
Then she heard a quiet sound through the phone.
Hospital equipment.
Vincent was calling from Adrian’s room.
“Can Emily speak to him?” he asked.
“Adrian?”
“No. Me.”
Rachel looked toward her daughter.
“Why?”
“Because I thanked her for making me listen. I should have thanked her for being brave enough to speak when every adult in the room had a reason not to hear her.”
Rachel’s first instinct was no.
Not because the words were wrong.
Because they were too large.
Emily did not need to become a symbol for courage at eight.
“She was scared,” Rachel said.
“I know.”
“She almost didn’t do it.”
“I know.”
“She isn’t fearless.”
“I know.”
Rachel rubbed her forehead.
“You’re making it difficult to argue with you.”
“I’m told that is one of my few talents.”
Rachel covered the phone.
“Emily.”
Her daughter looked up.
“Mr. Hale wants to say hello.”
Emily came over.
“Is his brother alive?”
“Yes.”
Emily took the phone.
“Hi.”
Vincent’s voice was too low for Rachel to hear clearly.
Emily listened.
“No, I don’t think I was brave.”
Another pause.
“I was shaking.”
She listened.
Then her eyebrows drew together.
“But brave means not being scared.”
Rachel crouched beside her.
Vincent apparently disagreed.
Emily considered his answer.
“Okay.”
A pause.
“Can you get my camera back?”
Rachel closed her eyes.
Vincent answered.
Emily brightened.
“Really?”
Rachel took the phone.
“What did you tell her?”
“That I would ask the detective.”
“You did not promise?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Rachel.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For raising a child who notices people adults decide not to see.”
Rachel’s throat tightened.
She looked at Emily.
Emily was trying to separate two plastic blocks with her teeth.
Rachel pulled them away from her mouth.
“Let’s not canonize her yet.”
Vincent laughed.
It was the first time Rachel heard him do it.
Adrian Hale spent six more days in intensive care and another eleven in a regular room.
He remembered almost nothing of the collapse.
He did remember the meeting before dinner.
That memory gave detectives a clearer picture of what Marcus had been trying to prevent.
Adrian had noticed the financial irregularities months earlier.
At first he assumed incompetence.
Then duplication.
Then fraud.
He had traced three shell vendors to an accountant who had once worked with Marcus.
He had planned to confront Vincent privately before involving law enforcement because he knew his brother’s first response would be immediate and destructive.
Adrian had not trusted Vincent to move slowly.
He had been right.
He had also underestimated Marcus.
That fact ate at him more visibly than the poisoning.
Vincent visited every morning.
The first time Adrian could speak for longer than ten minutes, he looked at the ivory dinner jacket hanging in a garment bag.
“You still own that thing?”
Vincent sat back.
“You almost died.”
“I noticed.”
“And that is your first meaningful statement?”
“I made other statements.”
“You complained about gelatin.”
“It was lime.”
“You hate lime.”
“Exactly.”
Vincent looked at him for a long moment.
Adrian’s face had thinned. Purple bruises marked his arms from IVs. He looked like himself and not like himself.
Finally Adrian said, “Stop staring.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. It’s creepy.”
Vincent looked toward the window.
Adrian shifted against the pillows.
“Marcus?”
“In custody.”
“Charges?”
“Yes.”
“Emily?”
“Safe.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“The kid with the camera.”
“Yes.”
“You met her?”
“She hit my table.”
Adrian smiled weakly.
“I like her.”
“You would.”
“Did she actually say he poisoned me?”
“Yes.”
“Before anyone knew?”
“Yes.”
Adrian opened his eyes.
“Jesus.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
Adrian saw it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Vin.”
“I sent Marcus.”
Adrian went still.
“To the meeting.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
“You told me not to.”
“Yes.”
“I was late.”
“Yes.”
“I sent him anyway.”
May you like
“I remember.”
Vincent looked at him.
