Part 4
Elena expected the questions to feel invasive. Instead, their plainness gave her something to hold.
Did Adrian control access to money?
Sometimes.
Did he monitor her communications?
He asked who she was texting. He knew the password to her phone. She knew his, though he changed it often.
Had he threatened her?
Not directly.
Had he ever prevented her from leaving?
Once, maybe twice.
Had he pressured her around pregnancy or medical care?
He attended appointments when his schedule allowed. He preferred a particular obstetrician because the doctor had delivered two babies in his family. He had objected when Elena wanted a doula.
Did she have somewhere safe to stay?
Rachel’s apartment had a narrow staircase and no elevator. Elena could stay there for a few nights.
Did she have access to her identification, medication, clothes, and financial accounts?
Her wallet was in the handbag. Her prenatal vitamins were at home. Most of her clothes were there. The checking account held money, but Adrian could see every transaction. Her conservation income had gone into the joint account since their marriage.
“Do you have an account in your own name?” Dana asked.
Elena thought of an old savings account her mother had opened when Elena was a teenager. She had never closed it. There might have been eight hundred dollars in it.
“Yes.”
“Can your husband access it?”
“I don’t think so.”
Dana did not tell Elena what to do. Elena had expected instructions and was unnerved by their absence. Dana explained options: a protective order application, an advocate, emergency housing, arrangements to retrieve belongings with police presence, legal counsel. Each option seemed to create five decisions behind it.
“What happens tonight?” Elena asked.
“That depends partly on what the police determine and partly on what you choose.”
“What would you choose?”
Dana’s expression remained gentle.
“I can help you understand the choices. I can’t make this one smaller by pretending it’s mine.”
After she left, Elena stared at the yellow bird sticker she had drawn on a scrap of paper without realizing it.
Sergeant Kim arrived at three ten. She sat near the foot of the bed and turned on a recorder after asking permission. Her questions returned Elena to the orangery minute by minute. Where had everyone been seated? Who had been drinking? When had Martin Cole left? Where was the folder now? Had Elena struck Adrian? Had she threatened anyone? Had anyone attempted to stop her from calling?
Elena answered carefully.
“The folder was on the floor near the fallen chair when I called,” she said.
“It wasn’t there when we entered.”
Elena looked at her.
“Are you sure?”
“We photographed the area.”
“Then someone moved it.”
“Who had access?”
“Everyone at the table.”
“Did you see anyone pick it up?”
“No.”
Sergeant Kim made a note.
“Your husband says you became distressed after misunderstanding an estate document, stumbled over the chair, and refused assistance.”
Elena felt her pulse in her scraped temple.
“What did the others say?”
“I’m not going to compare statements while we’re still interviewing people.”
“Is he being arrested?”
“We’re still determining what occurred.”
The old instinct returned: help them understand him. Adrian had not meant for her to hit the table. He had been under pressure. The estate had been complicated. His father’s death had unsettled him. He became frightened when he felt accused.
Elena could have built the entire explanation without effort.
Instead she said, “He put his hands on me because I would not give him the document.”
Sergeant Kim held her gaze.
“Did you believe he would let you leave the room?”
Elena remembered the position of his body between her and the glass doors. She remembered Celeste near the kitchen entrance.
“No.”
When the officer finished, she explained that Adrian had been removed from the property for the night while the investigation continued. He would stay at a hotel. Celeste remained at the estate. The missing folder had not been found.
“What about my phone?”
“We’re arranging a forensic copy of relevant material with your consent. You’ll get it back.”
“I need it.”
“I understand.”
Elena wanted to say that people kept telling her they understood when they plainly did not. Her obstetrician used the phone to confirm appointments. Her work contacts wrote to that number. Two-factor codes arrived there. Her mother’s last voicemail lived in the device, though Elena had saved copies in three other places.
Sergeant Kim took a temporary phone from a sealed box and placed it on the bedside table.
“It’s basic,” she said. “The advocate keeps a few available.”
Elena touched the unopened box.
“Thank you.”
The officer stood, then paused.
“One more thing. The emergency call remained connected for almost four minutes before responders entered. The recording may be important.”
Elena remembered Adrian’s voice behind her. Celeste telling her to think carefully. The silence of the relatives.
“What did it capture?”
“We’ll review it.”
After the officer left, Rachel returned carrying vending-machine coffee and a packet of crackers. She gave Elena the coffee, forgot Elena was avoiding caffeine, apologized, and drank it herself.
At dawn, the doctor said the baby’s monitoring was reassuring. Elena had mild bruising and no sign of placental injury. She was instructed to return for pain, bleeding, contractions, decreased movement, dizziness, or anything that concerned her.
Anything that concerned her felt like an unmanageable category.
Rachel drove them to her apartment in Stamford. The morning traffic moved south in red lines while commuters moved north toward offices and schools. Elena sat with the handbag on her lap and watched people drink coffee in neighboring cars. One man sang with his mouth wide open. A woman applied mascara at a light. A child in a yellow hat pressed both hands to the rear window of an SUV.
May you like
The ordinary world had continued without consulting anyone at the Vale estate.
Rachel’s apartment occupied the second floor of a converted house. The front steps leaned slightly to one side. Inside, books filled shelves, windowsills, the space beneath a bench, and half the dining table. A ceramic bowl by the door held keys, loose change, and three dog biscuits, though Rachel had never owned a dog.
