Chương 8
“No,” Helen said.
Maya appreciated her immediately.
Helen continued, “But neither did money.”
Wright suddenly became fascinated by his radio.
Victoria’s face changed.
“Helen.”
“I’ve worked here twenty-three years. You can be angry with me tomorrow.”
Victoria stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.
It was small and bitter.
“I won’t be here tomorrow.”
Helen looked down.
“No.”
The word settled through the lobby.
Maya wished she could remove herself from it.
Victoria turned toward the door.
Alvarez came inside.
“Mrs. Sterling, I need to make sure we have current contact information before you leave.”
“My attorney will provide it.”
“I need it from you.”
She gave him the address of a hotel downtown.
Maya knew the hotel.
A suite there cost more per night than her old monthly rent.
Still, something about hearing Victoria say a hotel address made the transfer real in a way the deed had not.
Alvarez wrote it down.
“Either of you intending to request charges today?”
Rachel answered for Maya.
“My client will cooperate with any investigation.”
Victoria looked at her.
“That wasn’t the question.”
Maya took a breath.
“I’m not asking him to arrest you.”
Victoria’s laugh was immediate.
“How generous.”
“I didn’t say nothing happened.”
“Of course not.”
“I’m also not pretending I didn’t hit you.”
Victoria’s hand rose almost unconsciously toward her cheek.
Maya continued.
“If the deputy sends it to whoever handles it, he sends it.”
Alvarez nodded.
“That’s essentially what will happen. I’ll document the incident and video preservation. Charging decisions are not something we need to settle in this foyer.”
Victoria looked at Maya.
“Afraid?”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised both of them.
Maya shrugged.
“I have a job. I have a mother who’s furious with me. I don’t want an assault charge.”
“You think I do?”
“No.”
For the first time that morning they stood without performing certainty.
Victoria looked tired.
Maya felt tired.
Alvarez cleared his throat.
“I think space would be good for everybody.”
Victoria reached for the handle of one suitcase.
Ellis did not release it.
“I’ve got it,” he said.
She looked at him.
“I’m capable of carrying a suitcase.”
“I know.”
He kept it anyway.
Victoria allowed him.
At the open front door, she stopped beside Maya.
The difference between them felt absurdly visible: Victoria in cashmere, Maya in a stretched hoodie; Victoria smelling faintly of expensive perfume, Maya of coffee and adrenaline.
“I knew about the transfer,” Victoria said quietly.
Maya did not answer.
“I did read it.”
“I figured.”
“I thought Martin would get the stay.”
“He didn’t.”
“I know that now.”
Maya looked at her.
“Why were you here?”
Victoria’s eyes moved toward the staircase.
“Where should I have gone?”
“The hotel.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Maya waited.
Victoria seemed irritated by her own hesitation.
Finally she said, “I thought if I remained in the house, somebody would have to acknowledge that there was still a human being involved.”
Maya stared at her.
“You had seventeen months to acknowledge that.”
Victoria’s face closed.
There it was again.
The door.
The old defense.
“You were compensated.”
Maya felt anger rise.
“For losing my job?”
“For your claims.”
“My father’s medical contributions were in those accounts.”
“You were not suing over your father.”
“I found the fraud because of him.”
“There was a regulatory settlement. People were repaid.”
“After they got caught.”
Victoria lowered her voice.
“Grant is dead.”
“I know.”
“You keep prosecuting him like he can still answer you.”
Maya’s throat tightened.
“That’s convenient for him.”
Victoria flinched.
Maya immediately wished she had not said it.
Not because it was false.
Because death made every argument ugly.
Victoria looked at her for a long moment.
Then she said, “You think I don’t know what he did.”
Maya went still.
Rachel, several feet away, looked up.
“What?”
Victoria glanced toward her and then back to Maya.
“Nothing.”
“No. You said—”
“I said nothing.”
She walked through the front door.
Ellis followed with the suitcases.
Maya stood frozen.
Rachel came closer.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know.”
Victoria entered the waiting black SUV.
Ellis put the luggage in back.
Before closing the door, he leaned down to say something to her.
Victoria looked toward the house.
For one second she and Maya saw each other through the open doorway.
Then the SUV door closed.
The vehicle moved down the long drive.
Maya watched until it disappeared beyond the gates.
Rachel touched her arm.
“Maya.”
“She knew.”
“We already knew she knew some of it.”
“No.”
Maya turned.
“She said, ‘You think I don’t know what he did.’”
Rachel’s expression was cautious.
“That could mean a lot of things.”
“You heard her.”
“I did.”
“She fought us for a year.”
“Yes.”
“She called me unstable.”
“Through counsel.”
“She helped fire me.”
“Yes.”
“If she knew Grant moved those funds—”
“We do not know that she meant that.”
Maya stared down the drive.
Rachel’s voice softened.
“Don’t build a new case out of one angry sentence.”
Maya rubbed her thumb against the coffee cup.
The cardboard was already cooling.
“What if she knew?”
“Then we follow evidence.”
“And if there isn’t any?”
“Then you have a house and a settled case.”
Maya looked back into the lobby.
She suddenly hated the floor.
Not symbolically.
Practically.
It was too shiny.
Every footprint showed.
Pete stood beside the front door holding up a new key.
“Owner copy?”
Maya stared at it.
Then she laughed without humor.
“Sure.”
He placed the key in her palm.
It weighed almost nothing.
The next four hours were aggressively ordinary.
Pete changed seven exterior locks and reset three access panels.
Helen made a spreadsheet of household staff, vendor contracts, recurring deliveries, utility accounts, maintenance schedules, and one annual agreement involving the chandelier that Maya initially thought was a joke.
It was not.
Wright showed her the security control room.
May you like
Maya learned there were thirty-two cameras on the property, though only twenty-six currently worked.
She learned the east gate sensor failed when temperatures dropped below twenty degrees.
