Chương 7
“No,” Rosa said.
Eli shook his head.
Noah whispered, “She watched us.”
Everyone turned toward him.
“When?” Miriam asked.
Noah’s fingers went to his mouth.
Eli answered. “At the playground.”
Rosa frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The silver-cane lady sat in a car.”
“When?”
“Before Christmas.”
“What kind of car?” Daniel asked.
“Black.”
“That does not narrow the field,” Everett said.
Eli scowled. “It had a bird on the front.”
Rosa looked at Everett. “A hood ornament?”
Eleanor’s older sedan had a silver winged figure above the grille. She preferred it to newer models because, she said, cars should look like they had been designed by adults.
Daniel wrote something down.
“Did your mother see her?” Miriam asked.
“No. Mom was taking pictures of the school.”
“Did Eleanor speak to you?”
Eli shook his head. Noah did not.
Everett felt the room contract around the possibility that his mother had stood within yards of the boys and chosen observation over acknowledgment.
Daniel closed his notebook. “We should not question them further without a trained interviewer. Not because I doubt them. Because memory becomes vulnerable when adults repeat questions.”
Miriam nodded. “I agree.”
Eli looked offended. “I remember.”
“I believe you,” Daniel said. “That is why we need to be careful.”
By midafternoon, reporters had begun calling Lawson Group.
The leak appeared first on a financial news site: LAWSON CEO CANCELS BOARD MEETING AMID PERSONAL CRISIS. An hour later, an anonymous source claimed that a woman from Everett’s past had sent children to the company headquarters to demand money.
Daniel read the article in the hospital cafeteria while Everett picked at a sandwich he had not chosen.
“Eleanor,” Everett said.
“We cannot prove that.”
“Who else benefits?”
“Benefit is not proof.”
“Stop saying that.”
Daniel placed his phone on the table. “Then stop requiring me to remind you.”
Everett pushed the sandwich away.
At the next table, two medical residents argued about whose turn it was to buy coffee. Neither recognized him. The ordinariness of their irritation felt obscene.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“The board placed you on temporary administrative leave fifteen minutes ago.”
Everett stared at him.
“On whose authority?”
“Six directors voted in favor. Three opposed. Eleanor abstained.”
“Of course she did.”
“The stated reason is to protect the company while an independent committee reviews the allegations.”
“The allegations against me?”
“Against everyone.”
“You voted?”
“I am not a director.”
“You advised them.”
“I advised them that refusing to act after a public allegation could create more risk.”
Everett’s anger sharpened. “You helped remove me.”
“I helped prevent your mother from controlling the review herself.”
“That distinction must comfort you.”
“No,” Daniel said. “It doesn’t.”
Everett stood, then sat again because the sudden movement made people look.
Daniel folded his hands.
“You told me to let the investigation find decisions made by you.”
“I did not expect the investigation to begin by taking my company.”
“It is not only your company.”
The phrase sounded like Eleanor and was therefore almost unbearable.
Daniel continued before Everett could respond.
“Outside counsel has begun preserving systems. Officer Bell gave a preliminary statement. Officer Rusk has retained his own attorney. Eleanor left the building at ten twelve without company devices. Her access is suspended.”
“Where did she go?”
“Home, according to her driver.”
“Have someone watch the house.”
“No.”
“She monitored Claire.”
“And that is one reason we are here. We do not answer surveillance with surveillance.”
Everett pressed his palms against the table.
“You are very calm.”
“I am not calm. I am working.”
The distinction broke something loose in Everett’s anger. He leaned back.
“What happens next?”
“We authenticate the letters, examine the file, locate original records, and determine who participated. You hire family counsel. You take a paternity test. You do not speak to the media, pressure Claire, or attempt to move the children into your home.”
“I know that.”
“Your first instinct in the social worker’s office was to move them.”
Everett looked toward the cafeteria windows.
Daniel softened his voice.
“They are not an acquisition you failed to close.”
“I am aware.”
“Are you?”
The question remained between them.
Everett’s phone vibrated with a message from an unknown number.
You always were easy to manipulate when you felt guilty.
He showed it to Daniel.
“Eleanor?” Daniel asked.
“She changes numbers when she wants deniability.”
“Do not respond.”
Everett typed before Daniel finished speaking.
Did you forge my signature?
Three dots appeared, vanished, then appeared again.
I protected you from a woman who lied as easily as she breathed.
Daniel held out his hand. “Give me the phone.”
Everett ignored him.
She gave birth to my sons.
A full minute passed.
Then Eleanor replied.
That was the problem.
Daniel photographed the screen and placed Everett’s phone face down.
“That helps,” he said.
“It isn’t enough.”
“No. But it helps.”
Claire woke the next morning.
Tasha called Rosa first, and Rosa called Everett while he was standing in the kitchen of his penthouse holding a coffee he had forgotten to drink.
“She’s awake,” Rosa said. “She can’t talk much. They took out the breathing tube.”
“Has she asked for the boys?”
“Yes.”
“Has she asked for me?”
A pause.
“No.”
Everett looked across the immaculate kitchen. His housekeeper had placed fresh fruit in a bowl. There were bananas among the pears.
“What did she say?”
“She asked whether you believed them.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That you did.”
“And?”
“She closed her eyes.”
Everett waited.
“That’s all,” Rosa said.
He arrived at the hospital in a plain dark suit without a tie. Reporters had gathered near the main entrance, so Marcus Bell drove him through the underground loading area with permission from hospital security.
Marcus no longer wore his Lawson badge.
“Administrative leave,” he explained in the elevator. “Pending review.”
“You followed procedure.”
“I brought the boys upstairs after being told to keep them in the lobby.”
May you like
“You made the correct decision.”
Marcus stared at the floor numbers. “My wife says correct decisions don’t usually suspend your health insurance.”
