Chương 2
Daniel climbed into the ambulance with Claire.
Marcus stood in the circular driveway as the doors closed.
For a moment he saw his reflection in the ambulance window.
Gray hair loose over his forehead. Bow tie crooked. Blood on the side of his hand from a cut he had not noticed.
Then the vehicle pulled away.
He turned back toward the house.
People were already using their phones.
Not everyone. Enough.
The annual Hale Foundation dinner had ended without anybody formally ending it. Guests gathered in little groups under the portico and along the foyer walls. A state senator’s husband was trying to find his coat. Two junior employees from Hale Properties were whispering beside a table of untouched desserts. Someone had picked up the champagne glass Marcus dropped and placed the broken pieces on a linen napkin.
Nora approached him.
“Mr. Hale.”
“Where is Evelyn?”
“In the blue sitting room.”
“Alone?”
“Mr. Bell is outside the door.”
Nora’s husband had been a Boston police officer before a back injury sent him into early retirement. He had no legal authority in Marcus’s house, but he had the shoulders of a refrigerator and a personal dislike of Evelyn that dated back twelve years.
“Did anyone touch the papers?”
Nora hesitated.
“A few landed where people were standing. I told staff not to clean the stairs.”
“Good.”
“Marcus.”
He looked at her.
Nora almost never used his first name while working.
“I was near the dining-room doors when it happened.”
“Did you see it?”
“I saw Ms. Ward reach toward Claire.”
His jaw tightened.
“Did you see her push?”
Nora looked miserable.
“I saw Claire go backward. Evelyn’s arm was out. I can’t tell you where her hand landed.”
Marcus nodded.
It was less than he wanted and more than he had five seconds earlier.
“What about the security cameras?”
“The main foyer cameras were turned off for the dinner.”
He stared at her.
“What?”
“The event company asked. They said several donors had requested privacy. Mr. Denton approved it.”
“Who told Denton to approve it?”
“I don’t know.”
Marcus looked toward the stairs.
White pages were scattered from the landing almost to the bottom.
One rested beneath the overturned stem of a wineglass.
“Find out.”
At the hospital, Claire developed a strong dislike for the word reassuring.
The baby’s heart rate was reassuring.
Her blood pressure was reassuring.
The lack of bleeding was reassuring.
The first ultrasound was reassuring.
The doctor’s expression was reassuring until Claire asked why she still had to stay overnight.
“Because reassuring is not the same as finished,” the doctor said.
That answer Claire trusted.
Daniel sat beside the bed wearing one patent leather shoe and one hospital grip sock.
At some point in the emergency department he had removed the other shoe because it was squeezing his foot. Then he had lost it.
Neither of them knew how.
“You look ridiculous,” Claire said.
Daniel stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
It came out once, sharp and ugly.
He covered his face.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you do.”
“I thought you were dead.”
Claire looked at the ceiling.
There were four rectangular fluorescent lights above her bed. One flickered every few minutes.
She had already counted.
She had counted them because the alternative was counting the seconds between the baby’s movements.
Daniel took her hand.
“I saw you on the stairs.”
“You didn’t see the beginning.”
“No.”
“She pushed me.”
He was silent.
Claire turned her head.
“She pushed me, Daniel.”
“I believe you.”
“You hesitated.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I’m trying not to say something insane in a hospital.”
She pulled her hand away.
Daniel leaned back.
“Claire.”
“Your father asked what she did. You asked if she touched me. Everybody is already changing the question.”
“I believe you.”
“Then say it correctly.”
His nostrils flared.
“Evelyn pushed you.”
The words remained between them.
Claire stared at him until she felt the pressure behind her eyes become dangerous.
She looked away.
“I had the audit papers.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
“Please don’t do this right now.”
“Do what?”
“Work.”
“I almost went down thirty stairs because of work.”
“We don’t know that.”
Claire stared at him.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Wrong sentence.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
“Very wrong sentence.”
“I know.”
The monitor beside the bed clicked softly.
Claire placed her hand over the baby again.
The movement under her palm was faint but there.
For six months she had found pregnancy deeply irritating whenever other people described it as magical. There had been reflux, swollen feet, a week when the smell of their dishwasher made her gag, and an argument with Daniel because he had eaten the last frozen waffle at two in the morning.
Now every small movement inside her felt like permission to keep breathing.
Daniel bent forward, elbows on his knees.
“What were the papers?”
Claire watched him.
There were two answers.
The short one could preserve the night they were having.
The long one could ruin much more than the night.
“Transfers from the employee medical reserve.”
His head came up.
“What?”
“Seventeen million over fourteen months.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I thought so.”
“To where?”
“Three project subsidiaries.”
“Which projects?”
“Northgate, Mercer Street, and Lansing.”
Daniel’s face changed at the last name.
He ran development on Lansing.
Claire saw it.
“Daniel.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“You looked at me like you were asking.”
“I was.”
He stood and walked toward the narrow window.
Outside, the city was all reflective glass and red aircraft lights.
“That reserve is restricted.”
“I know.”
“Dad knows.”
“He should.”
“You told him?”
“No.”
Daniel turned.
“You confronted Evelyn before telling my father?”
“I wasn’t confronting her.”
“You were standing on a staircase with evidence of seventeen million dollars in unauthorized transfers.”
“I was taking the papers to Joanne.”
“Joanne Crane?”
“She chairs the audit committee.”
“You could have emailed her.”
“No.”
May you like
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust our email retention anymore.”
