Chương 4
“Those documents were reviewed by counsel.”
“I’m not accusing anyone.”
“You’re writing it down.”
“That’s generally how this works.”
He almost told her that in his company an answer like that would get someone removed from a meeting.
Then he remembered he was in a hospital bed because his wife may have drugged him.
He let the thought die.
“What made you stop taking the pills three days ago?”
“A physical therapist asked whether one of my medications had changed because my responses were slower.”
“Had it?”
“Not according to the list.”
“Did you ask your wife?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to know whether I felt different without them.”
“All of them?”
“No. Only the tablets Madison gave me separately at night. I continued the medications I could identify from their packaging.”
“Did you speak to your doctor first?”
“No.”
Torres’s eyebrows moved.
“Yes, I know.”
“Do you?”
Adrian stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
It had no humor in it.
“I’m learning.”
She asked about the pill case.
He did not know it existed.
She asked about the injector.
He had never seen it.
She asked whether Madison had ever threatened him.
“No.”
“Threatened Sophie?”
“No.”
“Hit either of you?”
“No.”
“Do you believe she intended to kill you?”
The question sat between them.
Adrian saw Madison on the marble again.
You were never supposed to wake up enough to ask questions.
“I don’t know.”
Torres watched him carefully.
It would have been easier to say yes.
He wanted to say yes.
He wanted a simple villain because simple villains permitted simple anger.
“I think she intended to keep me impaired,” he said. “Beyond that, I don’t know.”
“That distinction may matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Torres closed her notebook.
“It should.”
Madison did not come home that night.
The police did not give Adrian a satisfying explanation of what would happen next, which he learned was because satisfying explanations were usually lies told too early.
The injector and pills were collected.
The broken glass was photographed and taken where useful.
Madison gave a statement with an attorney present and was questioned for several hours. She was not permitted back into the house while temporary protective arrangements were made.
By morning, three news vans were parked beyond the mansion gates.
Adrian watched them on the security monitor from his study and called his chief of staff.
“Who leaked it?”
Claire Monroe sounded exhausted.
“No idea yet.”
“That means you have an idea.”
“It means your wife was taken from the house in front of two patrol vehicles and an ambulance, Adrian. You live on a street with neighbors.”
“She wasn’t arrested at the house.”
“Do you think the internet is known for procedural nuance?”
He rubbed his forehead.
On one screen, a local reporter stood beneath a navy umbrella even though it was not raining.
“What are they saying?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Then I definitely want to know.”
Claire sighed. “Medical emergency. Domestic disturbance. One site says attempted murder. Another says you assaulted Madison.”
Adrian turned from the monitor.
“Of course it does.”
“Do not make a statement.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You’re always planning to.”
“I’m literally sitting here.”
“You own a communications department. That counts as being armed.”
Despite himself, he smiled.
Claire had worked for him for seven years and was among the few people who interpreted his silence as a warning rather than consent.
“Where’s Voss?” he asked.
A pause.
“Malcolm is calling an emergency executive committee meeting.”
Adrian’s hand stopped on the wheelchair control.
“Why?”
“Because the company woke up to photographs of its CEO leaving his home in an ambulance after a police response involving his wife.”
“I’m not dead.”
“I told him that.”
“What did he say?”
“That isn’t the relevant standard.”
Adrian looked at the wall.
There were sentences people could only say when they had been waiting a long time to say them.
“What time is the meeting?”
“Ten.”
“I’ll be there.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“You were discharged from a hospital ninety minutes ago.”
“I was medically cleared.”
“You haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“I’m not recovering from a pelvic reconstruction.”
“That was eight months ago.”
“And you still use a wheelchair.”
The words stung more than they should have.
Claire heard it.
Her voice softened.
“Being able to stand doesn’t mean you need to prove anything today.”
Adrian looked through the study doors.
Sophie sat at the breakfast table with Rachel, eating dry cereal one piece at a time because she refused the eggs Rosa had made.
“I’m not proving anything.”
“Then stay home.”
He stayed home.
It felt like losing.
That embarrassed him.
At ten-fifteen, the executive committee called without him.
At ten-forty, Claire sent him a message saying there had been no vote.
At eleven-ten, the company’s board chair called personally.
“Take the week.”
Adrian said, “No.”
“Adrian.”
“I’m capable of working.”
“This is not a punishment.”
“Then stop making it sound like one.”
The older man was silent.
Adrian regretted the sentence as soon as he heard it.
The board chair, Sam Leighton, had known Adrian’s father. That history irritated Adrian even on good days.
“You have a daughter in that house,” Sam said.
“I’m aware.”
“Then act like her father for forty-eight hours instead of our chief executive.”
Adrian hung up angry.
Ten minutes later, he knew Sam was right.
He hated him for it.
At lunch, Sophie pushed peas beneath a piece of chicken and asked whether Madison was coming back.
Rachel stopped eating.
Adrian looked at his daughter.
“No.”
“Ever?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said she poisoned you.”
“I said she changed my medicine.”
“That’s poison.”
Rachel looked at him as though to say this was his problem now.
He put down his fork.
“The police are figuring out exactly what happened.”
“Are they going to put her in jail?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want them to?”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing useful appeared.
May you like
Sophie waited.
“I want you safe,” he said.
