Chương 10
“My uncle is in my study.”
Everett closed his eyes.
“He has admitted he controls Larkspur and that he authorized money to Julian Vale after telling Julian to make me unavailable for today’s board vote. He says he was told I would only become sick.”
Ruiz was silent for one beat.
Then her voice sharpened.
“Do not ask him any more questions.”
Nathan looked at Everett.
“I won’t.”
“Is he free to leave?”
Nathan almost said no.
Marcus met his eyes.
Nathan understood.
“Yes.”
“Do not prevent him from leaving. An officer will contact you.”
Nathan lowered the phone.
Everett looked at him as though something much older than the evening had ended.
“You could have given me one day.”
Nathan thought of Claire.
Monday.
Tuesday.
Thursday.
One more day.
“No.”
Everett nodded slowly.
Then he walked toward the door.
At the threshold he turned.
“I did love you.”
Nathan looked at him.
“I know.”
That was what made the room unbearable.
Everett left.
Nathan stayed in the study after the elevator carried him away.
Marcus stood near the bookshelves.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
Nathan rubbed his face.
“Did I just destroy my family?”
Marcus considered.
“Not sure you were the one holding the hammer.”
Nathan looked at him.
“That sounded rehearsed.”
“I’ve had a long night.”
Marcus left him alone.
The next forty-eight hours blurred without becoming simple.
Everett retained criminal counsel.
Julian began cooperating through his attorney.
Police searched records and properties Nathan was not told about until afterward. The forensic team kept finding financial structures that were not illegal merely because they were confusing, alongside others that raised more serious questions.
Larkspur had been Everett’s mechanism for years.
Not a suitcase of stolen cash.
Not some theatrical offshore empire.
A company used to move expenses, disguise losses, pay favored consultants, and keep liabilities away from places where lenders or board members might ask inconvenient questions.
Sometimes money returned to Cole Meridian.
Sometimes it did not.
That distinction mattered to accountants, attorneys, investigators, directors, creditors, and people Nathan had never met.
It mattered less to him than the quarter-million-dollar payment to Julian.
Julian’s account, relayed through counsel, was uglier because it was less dramatic than Nathan expected.
Julian had spent years living beyond what he could afford.
Not yachts.
Not secret casinos.
A house purchased at the wrong time. Two expensive divorces. Private-school tuition he refused to admit he could no longer manage. Investments he had assured everyone were temporary losses until they became permanent ones.
He had borrowed from people he should not have borrowed from.
Then he had begun taking money from consulting arrangements Everett controlled.
Everett protected him.
Protection became leverage.
By the time Nathan proposed the forensic review, Julian understood that outside accountants could expose both of them.
Everett told him Nathan needed to miss the vote.
Julian obtained a substance through a contact investigators were still examining. He claimed he believed the amount he used would cause vomiting and severe illness but not permanent injury.
Nathan read that sentence three times.
He did not find it comforting.
Neither did Detective Ruiz.
“People are very attached to distinctions that make them feel less monstrous,” she told him during their next interview.
Nathan looked at her.
“Is that an official police observation?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She closed her notebook.
“There’s something I need to ask.”
Nathan waited.
“Did Mr. Vale know your niece would be at dinner?”
Nathan felt the muscles in his neck tighten.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He asked Mara two days earlier whether Lily normally ate with me when business guests were here.”
Ruiz’s expression did not change.
“You already told us that.”
“So why ask?”
“I’m asking whether you know of any reason he’d be concerned about her presence.”
Nathan thought.
“No.”
“Did he interact with her during dinner?”
“Barely.”
“Did he know she could see your plate from where she sat?”
“I assume.”
“Don’t assume.”
Nathan forced himself to reconstruct the evening.
Lily had sat beside him.
Julian across.
The flowers in the middle.
Mara behind Lily when serving.
Nathan’s plate partly blocked from Julian’s view when Nathan sat straight, but easy to reach when he turned toward Lily.
Julian had asked about seating on Tuesday.
The detail had seemed sinister before.
Now Nathan understood it differently.
“He was checking whether she’d be there.”
“Maybe.”
“To know whether she could see him.”
“Maybe.”
Nathan’s stomach turned.
Ruiz watched him.
“You don’t have to solve the whole case yourself.”
“That seems to be a popular opinion.”
“You’re bad at following it.”
“I’m improving.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
That almost made her smile.
Before she left, Ruiz asked whether Lily was doing all right.
Nathan said yes.
Then he thought about it.
“No.”
Ruiz waited.
“She won’t eat red sauce.”
“That’s understandable.”
“She checks my plate before I eat.”
Ruiz said nothing.
“She asked Marcus whether bad people can get into elevators.”
Nathan looked toward the hallway.
“I thought she was fine because she stopped talking about Julian.”
Ruiz put her notebook away.
“She’s five. Silence doesn’t mean what adults like to think it means.”
Nathan nodded.
That evening, he found Lily standing beside the dining-room table.
The replacement place setting had been restored.
Nathan had almost told staff to replace the entire table.
Mara had called that ridiculous.
She was right.
Lily touched the edge of Nathan’s clean plate.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped.
“Nothing.”
Nathan walked closer.
She looked at the chair where Julian had sat.
It was empty.
“Do you want to eat somewhere else?”
Lily nodded immediately.
“Okay.”
“In the kitchen.”
“Okay.”
They carried their plates themselves.
Nathan’s contained grilled chicken, rice, and vegetables.
Lily’s contained approximately the same meal except she had negotiated all green vegetables out of it.
Mara watched them from the counter.
“You know we have staff.”
Nathan set his plate down.
“I’ve heard rumors.”
Lily inspected his chicken.
Nathan noticed.
He said nothing.
She leaned closer.
May you like
“Why are you looking at it?” he asked.
“Just looking.”
