Chương 9
Silence.
“Mara—”
“You know.”
“I have a theory.”
“Tell me.”
Lewis exhaled.
“You took those receiving photos.”
“Yes.”
“And last month you emailed me a spreadsheet showing discrepancies.”
“Yes.”
“I forwarded it.”
“To Graham?”
“Yes.”
Mara closed her eyes.
Her name would have been attached.
“Did Vanessa know?”
“I don’t know.”
“She asked whether I backed up the photos.”
“I know.”
“You knew she was worried about me.”
“I suspected.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
Lewis was quiet.
Mara stood and walked to the window.
“I’m trying very hard not to hate you right now.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re right.”
That irritated her more.
“Stop saying that.”
“All right.”
She could hear him breathing.
Finally Lewis said, “I was afraid.”
Mara leaned her forehead against the cool glass.
“Of losing your job?”
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised her.
Lewis continued.
“My daughter’s mother moved to Arizona. I fought for primary custody. The mortgage is mine. School is mine. Health insurance is through this job. I told myself I was documenting everything until I had enough.”
Mara looked down at the street.
“And while you documented it, Janie got fired.”
“Yes.”
“The driver lost shifts.”
“Yes.”
“Vanessa grabbed me.”
“Yes.”
Each answer became quieter.
Mara swallowed.
“I’m sorry,” Lewis said.
She could have made him suffer then.
A part of her wanted to.
He deserved some of it.
Maybe not all.
“That doesn’t fix it.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
“Right.”
Despite herself, Mara laughed.
Lewis did too, one short breath.
Then neither of them spoke for a while.
The ordinary silence helped.
“Mara?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t quit because of me.”
“I’m not making any decisions tonight.”
“Good.”
“I might quit tomorrow.”
“Also fair.”
She hung up.
At two in the morning, Mara finally slept.
At six sixteen, she woke because somebody dropped a garbage can in the alley.
For ten seconds she did not remember anything.
Then her arm touched the sheet.
Pain brought the house back all at once.
The tray.
The wine.
The bracelet.
Damian saying, I never did.
Mara stared at the ceiling.
Her phone buzzed.
An email had arrived from an attorney representing Vanessa Reed.
The subject line contained Mara’s full name.
She did not open it.
Instead she took screenshots, forwarded the email unopened to herself, and called the employment attorney Lewis had texted her at midnight.
The lawyer’s receptionist told her someone could speak with her later that morning.
Mara showered.
She made toast.
She burned one side and ate it anyway.
At eight thirty, Damian called.
Mara watched his name until the ringing stopped.
He called again five minutes later.
She answered.
“Hello.”
“Mara.”
“You called twice.”
“I did.”
“That usually means emergency.”
“It might be.”
She closed her eyes.
“What happened?”
“Bellwether’s address matches a private mailbox used by a company connected to Vanessa’s brother.”
Mara sat down.
“Her brother?”
“Half brother. Colin Reed.”
“Is he the owner?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because I said last night I’d tell you what we confirmed.”
“That doesn’t sound confirmed.”
A pause.
“You’re right.”
Mara almost smiled.
“You’re learning.”
“I wish the circumstances were cheaper.”
“How much?”
“Potentially several million.”
Mara stared at the burned edge of her toast.
“What about Graham?”
“His access is suspended. He claims the vendors were approved by Vanessa and that he processed them because he believed I had authorized her.”
“Did you?”
“Not for fake services.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Damian went quiet.
Mara waited.
“I gave her broad approval authority under a household-events budget.”
“How broad?”
“Too broad.”
There was something in his voice she had not heard before.
Embarrassment.
It made him sound younger.
“She didn’t hack anything,” Mara said.
“No.”
“You gave her access.”
“Yes.”
“And Graham?”
“I gave him the ability to process approvals within that system.”
“So everybody technically had permission to do the individual things.”
“Yes.”
“Just not the thing they were doing together.”
“That is what we’re trying to determine.”
Mara looked out the window.
“So why frame me?”
“I have a theory.”
“Lewis had one of those.”
“I’m starting to dislike that word.”
“Good.”
Damian breathed out.
“Your receiving records could prove services didn’t occur. If those discrepancies reached an external auditor, invoices that looked legitimate on paper could become harder to explain.”
“And getting me fired would fix that?”
“It could discredit you.”
Mara thought about the bracelet in her locker.
A thief.
A resentful former employee.
Someone no one needed to believe.
“What was she going to do?” Mara asked. “Call the police?”
“I don’t know.”
“She told me she would.”
Damian became silent.
Mara had not mentioned that the night before.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before you came in.”
“What exactly?”
Mara forced herself to remember.
Vanessa’s fingers around her arm.
The tray trembling in Mara’s hands.
The polished voice.
One call and you’ll spend the night explaining to police why my jewelry is in your locker.
Mara repeated the sentence.
Damian swore under his breath.
She had never heard him swear before.
“Why didn’t you tell me that last night?”
“Because last night contained a lot of material.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing every five minutes.”
“Working on it.”
Mara picked at the toast.
“Did the camera catch anything?”
“Not in the locker room. The hallway camera was disabled.”
“Of course.”
“But an exterior service camera shows Vanessa’s personal assistant arriving at five fifty-eight and leaving at six nineteen.”
“Olivia?”
“Yes.”
Mara knew Olivia Brenner. Twenty-seven, polished, always carrying two phones, perpetually apologizing on Vanessa’s behalf without ever actually saying what Vanessa had done.
“Did anybody talk to her?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because she has a lawyer.”
That answer reassured Mara more than if Damian had said security was questioning her.
Real people did not become cooperative witnesses on command.
“What do you want me to do?” Mara asked.
“Nothing today.”
“I don’t believe you.”
May you like
Another pause.
“Fine. I want you to preserve your photos and records. Don’t alter anything. Don’t forward files around randomly. And talk to your own attorney before you give copies to me.”
