Chương 5
“This afternoon.”
“What about?”
“Tomorrow’s meeting.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know.”
“Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen.”
“Was he worried?”
“We are all worried.”
“About the review?”
“About what you’re doing to the company.”
Nathan stood.
“What am I doing?”
“You’re turning financial questions into moral accusations.”
“Those questions involve forty-three million dollars nobody has adequately explained.”
“There you go.”
“There I go what?”
“Talking like Claire.”
Nathan’s hand tightened around the phone.
Everett knew the effect of that sentence.
He had used it deliberately.
Claire had spent the last year of her life arguing with Nathan about Cole Meridian’s books. She had been vice president of internal finance, a title their father gave her because he thought it sounded important while keeping her far from actual authority.
Claire had noticed patterns.
Consulting fees.
Vendor payments.
Transfers between subsidiaries that arrived days before reporting deadlines.
Nathan had listened just enough to tell himself he had listened.
He had told her there were explanations.
He had told her not every irregularity was fraud.
He had told her Everett had kept the company alive through two recessions and their father’s illness.
Three months later Claire died when a delivery truck crossed the center line on a wet road outside Greenwich.
The accident had been investigated.
The driver had been sober.
There had been no conspiracy.
Nathan had never allowed himself to turn Claire’s death into one.
But he had inherited her daughter.
He had also inherited sixteen folders of financial questions he had not opened for six weeks.
“I’m holding the meeting,” Nathan said.
Everett’s voice hardened.
“Don’t.”
“I’ll see you at nine-thirty.”
“You’re going to regret making major decisions tonight.”
Nathan ended the call.
He stood in the study for several minutes.
Then he opened his email and searched Claire’s name.
There were 8,412 results.
He stared at the number.
Most were ordinary.
Birthday planning. School pictures. A disagreement about whether their father needed a nurse. Receipts she forwarded because she knew Nathan lost them. One message containing nothing but a photograph of a hideous lamp with the subject line YOU DESERVE THIS.
Nathan typed another term.
Julian Vale.
The search narrowed.
He began reading.
At 3:11, Mara entered carrying coffee.
Nathan looked up.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I thought you were.”
She set the mug down.
Then she looked at his screen.
Claire’s name was visible in the search bar.
Mara’s expression softened.
Nathan rubbed his eyes.
“I owe you an apology.”
“You owe me several.”
He looked at her.
She took the chair across from the desk.
“Start with whichever one lets you sleep.”
“I shouldn’t have dismissed what you told me about Julian.”
“No.”
“I shouldn’t have made it about where you came from.”
“No.”
“I shouldn’t have said you didn’t understand people like him.”
“No.”
Nathan waited.
Mara folded her hands.
“That’s not an apology.”
“I’m getting there.”
“You negotiate apologies like acquisitions.”
“I said I was getting there.”
She almost smiled.
Nathan looked back at the screen.
“I was wrong. I made it harder for you to tell me something important because I wanted to believe my judgment was better than yours.”
Mara was silent.
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded.
“Thank you.”
Nathan took the coffee.
It was too hot.
He drank it anyway.
Mara looked toward the hallway.
“She’s sleeping.”
“Good.”
“She’ll wake up early.”
“She always does.”
“She’ll ask if you’re dead.”
Nathan looked at her.
“She asked me twice already.”
He set the mug down.
Mara’s eyes moved to the screen again.
“What are you looking for?”
“I’m not sure.”
“That’s dangerous for you.”
“How?”
“You prefer searching when you’ve already decided what you’re going to find.”
Nathan leaned back.
“You’ve become very comfortable criticizing me tonight.”
“I nearly watched you eat whatever was in that bottle. I’ve reassessed my priorities.”
He nodded.
Fair.
Mara stood.
At the door she stopped.
“There’s something else.”
Nathan waited.
“Julian came here Tuesday.”
“What?”
“Around four.”
“Why?”
“He said he was dropping off board materials.”
“I was in Boston.”
“I know.”
“Did he come upstairs?”
“Yes.”
Nathan stood.
“Why wasn’t I told?”
Mara looked at him.
The question answered itself.
Nathan sat again.
“How long was he here?”
“Maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Where did he go?”
“The study, then the dining room.”
“Why the dining room?”
“He said he’d left his glasses here Sunday.”
“Did he?”
“I didn’t see him find any.”
Nathan looked toward the desk.
“Was he alone?”
“For a few minutes. I was dealing with a grocery delivery.”
“Security cameras?”
“In the hall. Not inside the apartment.”
Nathan nodded slowly.
“Did he touch anything?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he ask you?”
Mara’s face tightened.
“Whether tomorrow’s dinner was still happening.”
“Tonight’s dinner.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Nathan glanced at the clock.
It was already tomorrow.
“What else?”
“He asked whether Lily usually ate with you when you had business guests.”
Nathan stopped.
Mara looked sick.
“I thought he was making conversation.”
Nathan’s hands went flat on the desk.
“What did you tell him?”
“That she does when you’re home early enough.”
Nathan rose.
“I want her out of here.”
Mara blinked.
“What?”
“Today. Somewhere else.”
“Nathan—”
“Marcus can move her before seven.”
“She has school.”
“She’s not going.”
“She has a routine.”
“She watched someone try to poison me.”
“And now you want to take away her house too?”
The sentence landed harder than Mara intended.
Both of them knew it.
Nathan looked away.
Mara’s voice changed.
“Claire died eleven months ago. Lily lost her mother, moved into your home, changed schools, stopped sleeping through the night, started sleeping through the night again, and finally stopped asking me whether you could die in a car accident every time you were fifteen minutes late.”
Nathan stared at the dark city.
“I didn’t know that.”
“She asked me not to tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were already scared enough.”
Nathan laughed once, without humor.
May you like
“She said that?”
“She said you get a line between your eyebrows when you’re scared.”
