Chương 5
“My father said they’re listing next week.”
“Your father says many things with the confidence of a courthouse clock.”
That pulled a brief laugh from Claire.
Evelyn folded her hands. “Confidence is not authority. Don’t confuse the two.”
Claire paid the consultation fee and left with a folder heavier than the one she had brought.
In the bakery downstairs, she bought two cinnamon rolls because Daniel used to say meetings with lawyers created a medical need for frosting. She ate half of one in the car and immediately felt sick.
Teresa was waiting in Claire’s driveway when she got home.
She sat in a beige sedan with both hands on the steering wheel. When Claire pulled in, Teresa opened her door but did not get out until Claire had parked.
“I came alone,” she said.
Claire looked at the empty passenger seat.
“I can see that.”
“Can we talk?”
“Eliza’s at aftercare for another forty minutes.”
“I know.”
The answer was small, but it scraped.
“How do you know?”
Teresa’s face changed. “Because you told me her schedule last month.”
“Did you tell Kevin?”
“Claire.”
“Did you?”
Teresa shut the car door. Her cardigan was buttoned wrong, the lower side hanging shorter than the other. Claire resisted the urge to point it out.
“He knows she goes to aftercare on Tuesdays,” Teresa said. “That’s not sinister.”
“Someone knew I’d be at work and Eliza wouldn’t be home.”
“Dad knew.”
“How?”
“We all know your schedule.”
“No, you know parts of it because I trusted you.”
Teresa looked toward the house. “Can we not do this outside?”
“Why? Were you more comfortable inside yesterday?”
The color drained from Teresa’s face.
Claire hated the satisfaction that gave her.
They went through the side gate because Claire did not want Teresa near the front alarm panel. The scattered papers were gone, but chalk houses still covered the patio. One road ended beneath the bent metal chair.
Teresa sat at the table. Claire remained standing.
“Kevin shouldn’t have said what he said,” Teresa began.
“You said our family’s house.”
“I was upset.”
“You were helping a realtor photograph it.”
“Dad told me you had agreed in principle.”
“Did you believe him?”
Teresa rubbed the thin gold bracelet at her wrist. “You’ve complained about the maintenance. You said the upstairs feels empty.”
“I said I hate cleaning the guest bathroom.”
“You said you might want something smaller someday.”
“Someday is not next Thursday.”
“No.”
“Did you give them the photograph for the fake email account?”
Teresa’s fingers stopped moving.
“What fake email account?”
Claire showed her.
Teresa stared at the screen for a long time. “I didn’t create that.”
“I asked about the photograph.”
“It was on my phone.”
“Who had it?”
“Kevin. Dad. It was in the family album link.”
“Who has a copy of my driver’s license?”
Teresa looked up.
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You were with Dad after Daniel died when he copied documents for the insurance company.”
“I don’t remember every paper.”
“Try.”
Teresa stood. “Do you think I forged your signature?”
“I think you entered my house knowing I hadn’t said yes.”
“I thought you would say yes.”
“That’s different from thinking I had.”
Teresa’s mouth tightened. For a moment she looked like Frank, which seemed to frighten both of them.
“You don’t understand what’s happening,” she said.
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Teresa paced to the edge of the chalk city. Her beige heel landed on a blue square Eliza had labeled LIBARY.
“Kevin’s company lost a contract,” she said. “A large one.”
Claire waited.
“There were delays. The client withheld payment. Then another investor pulled out.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I don’t know exactly anymore.”
The afternoon light caught the delicate chain at Teresa’s neck. Claire remembered buying it for her sister’s thirtieth birthday, back when Teresa still called before taking their father’s side.
“Did Dad give Kevin money?”
“He helped.”
“How?”
“He guaranteed a line of credit.”
“With what?”
“His investment account.”
Claire sat down.
Frank had retired six years earlier from a regional bank. He lectured everyone about diversification and emergency reserves. He kept expense spreadsheets for holidays.
“How much?”
Teresa looked away.
“How much, Teresa?”
“A little over four hundred thousand.”
Claire stared at her.
“It wasn’t supposed to be used,” Teresa said quickly. “A guarantee isn’t the same as handing someone money. Kevin had signed contracts. There was a receivable. Dad looked at the numbers.”
“Dad looked at numbers Kevin gave him.”
“The client was supposed to pay.”
“But they didn’t.”
“No.”
“And now?”
“The lender can call the guarantee.”
“Can?”
Teresa said nothing.
“Has,” Claire said.
Teresa sat again.
“They gave Kevin until the end of the month to bring the account current or restructure it.”
“What does my house have to do with that?”
“We thought—”
“We?”
“Dad thought the family could solve it together.”
“By selling my house.”
“Not exactly.”
“Then use exact words.”
Teresa’s eyes filled, but she did not cry. “You have more equity than you need.”
Claire let the sentence remain in the air.
Teresa rushed into the silence. “You could buy a townhome outright and still have money left. Dad could cover the guarantee. Kevin could stabilize the business. We could put a down payment on this place and keep it in the family.”
“You were going to buy my house?”
“At fair market value eventually.”
“With whose money?”
“After the business recovered.”
“So I sell it, pay off Dad’s guarantee, and you move in later.”
“It would be structured.”
“By Kevin?”
“Dad has a financial adviser.”
“Does the adviser know about the fake email account?”
Teresa looked down.
Claire’s chest tightened. “Did Dad know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Kevin create it?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
“Stop saying that.”
“I don’t know what they did. Dad told me you were scared and needed help making the decision. Kevin said the realtor was only giving us a valuation.”
