Chương 5
June’s first request was simple.
No one was to contact Celeste about the deed except through her office.
Graham violated the request within six hours.
Mara did not.
That difference mattered later.
For now, it simply meant Mara spent Saturday morning in a laundromat because the hotel charged fourteen dollars to wash a blouse.
Naomi found her there.
“What are you doing?”
“Reconsidering capitalism.”
“You own a house with nine bathrooms.”
“And I am washing underwear next to a vending machine.”
Naomi sat in a molded plastic chair.
For a while they watched the dryer turn.
Mara had not realized how comforting it could be to stare at something with no hidden meaning.
A red sock stuck to the glass.
A man across the room argued softly with his teenage daughter about whether a blanket could go on high heat.
Somebody’s phone played a cooking video too loudly.
Naomi handed Mara a folder.
“What’s this?”
“Public records.”
Mara opened it.
There were financing statements, corporate filings, and property-related documents she did not immediately understand.
Naomi pointed to one.
“Graham’s company has been under more pressure than he told you.”
“How much more?”
“A lot.”
“Useful legal term.”
“I try.”
Lenders had filed claims against two subsidiaries.
A vendor had sued for unpaid invoices.
A former development partner claimed Graham had diverted project deposits to cover unrelated obligations.
Nothing had been proved.
Some cases had settled.
Others were pending.
Mara turned pages slowly.
“Why didn’t I know?”
Naomi gave her a look.
Mara closed the folder.
“Right. Stupid question.”
“Not stupid.”
“He talked about work every night.”
“Talking isn’t the same as telling.”
The dryer buzzer sounded.
Mara stood and pulled out warm clothes.
One of Graham’s old T-shirts was tangled with her pajamas.
She stared at it.
She had packed in a hurry.
The shirt said WHITMORE DEVELOPMENT REGATTA 2019 across the chest.
Naomi held out the trash can lid with two fingers.
Mara folded the shirt instead.
Naomi raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not ready to become a symbolic person,” Mara said.
“Fair.”
She placed the shirt at the bottom of the laundry bag.
On Monday, Walter Kane received written permission from Celeste to share a limited set of financial records with June and, through counsel, Mara.
The numbers were worse than Mara expected.
Over eighteen months, several transfers totaling more than three million dollars had moved from Celeste’s investment accounts into entities associated with Graham.
Some had clear loan documents.
Some did not.
Celeste had signed authorizations for many of them.
The question was what she had been told.
Mara’s $285,000 transfer had gone into one of those same entities.
Two days later, $240,000 had been sent to a construction company on a project in Charleston.
The taxes Graham claimed needed curing had been paid from closing escrow after all.
Mara sat in Priya’s office and stared at the transaction.
“He stole from me.”
Priya tapped one finger against the page.
“He made a representation about the purpose of a transfer. The funds appear to have been used differently.”
“He stole from me.”
“I understand why you’re saying that.”
“Can you please stop talking like a building permit?”
Priya leaned back.
“Yes.”
The room was quiet.
Then she said, “He lied to you about where your money was going.”
Mara nodded.
That sentence hurt more.
The same afternoon Graham called from a number she did not recognize.
She answered before thinking.
“Mara.”
She almost hung up.
“Don’t.”
“Please.”
His voice had changed.
Not softer exactly. Less certain.
“I need five minutes.”
“You have lawyers.”
“I’m not talking about the divorce.”
“Then what?”
“My mother.”
Mara waited.
“She won’t speak to me.”
“That isn’t my problem.”
“You turned her against me.”
“I have not spoken to her in nine days.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, Graham. I’m beginning to think I never did.”
He exhaled hard.
“Walter gave June records he had no right to give her.”
“They’re Celeste’s records.”
“He’s making everything look criminal.”
“Is it?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Is it?”
“I borrowed money from my family.”
“You borrowed from me too?”
“I was going to replace it.”
Mara sat down.
The hotel room seemed to tilt very slightly.
“The two hundred eighty-five thousand?”
“Yes.”
“You told me it was for taxes.”
“I needed it for Charleston for forty-eight hours.”
“You sent it to Charleston?”
“A subcontractor was going to walk. If he walked, the lender froze the draw. If the draw froze, the whole project collapsed.”
“So you lied.”
“I moved money.”
“You lied.”
“Mara, stop reducing everything to the ugliest possible word.”
She almost laughed.
“You took money out of my account by telling me the house would be lost if I didn’t send it.”
“I was protecting all of us.”
“You were protecting yourself.”
“I was protecting my company.”
“There it is.”
“My company employed eighty people.”
“Your company also bought you a new car last year.”
He went quiet.
Mara closed her eyes.
She could see the car.
Silver.
Graham had driven it home and told her the lease terms were too good to pass up.
“Mara.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand what it’s like to have that many people depending on you.”
“I depended on you.”
Silence.
The words embarrassed her as soon as they left her mouth.
Not because they were untrue.
Because they were.
Graham spoke more quietly.
“I’m trying to fix this.”
“You kicked my suitcase down the stairs.”
“You brought a deed into my mother’s house like a weapon.”
“I brought proof.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“Yes.”
That surprised both of them.
Mara looked out the window.
“Yes,” she repeated. “For once, I did.”
She hung up.
Ten minutes later she vomited in the hotel bathroom.
She was not pregnant.
She checked anyway.
The negative test sat on the sink for several minutes before she threw it away.
May you like
She and Graham had stopped trying for a child the previous winter without ever formally agreeing to stop.
At first there had been doctors.
