Chương 10
Mara stopped.
Rachel touched her elbow. “Keep moving.”
The elevator doors opened.
Mara turned toward the reporter.
“Because I was afraid,” she said.
Cameras lifted.
“Afraid of what?” someone shouted.
Mara looked at Julian. He stood near the courtroom doors, surrounded by attorneys. His face had gone still.
“Of exactly what happened,” she said.
Rachel guided her into the elevator.
The clip spread widely. Some people praised her honesty. Others called the answer rehearsed. A former Cross Hotels employee posted that Mara had ignored staff complaints about unpaid overtime during a foundation event. Mara searched her archived emails and found the complaint. She had forwarded it to Julian’s assistant and never followed up.
The employee was right.
Mara contacted him through counsel and apologized. He declined to speak with her.
That refusal bothered her more than public insults. She had begun to imagine truth-telling as a line separating her from the Crosses. The old email showed how often she had lived on their side without naming it.
Her consulting client noticed the clip and asked whether she still had capacity for the project.
“Yes,” Mara said.
The chair looked skeptical. “Our staff is worried the press will connect your situation to ours.”
“That may happen.”
“Can you guarantee confidentiality?”
“Yes.”
“Can you guarantee no distraction?”
“No.”
The board replaced her with another consultant.
Mara received payment for twelve hours and a polite message thanking her for her insight.
She sat at the kitchen table with the check beside her coffee until the coffee went cold.
Daniel had returned to Portland. The apartment felt larger without his shoes near the door.
Mara called him.
“I lost the client.”
“That’s bad.”
“You don’t have to agree immediately.”
“You called me because you wanted me to say something true.”
“I called because I’m lonely.”
“Oh.”
He adjusted his tone, poorly. “Do you want me to fly back?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to insult Julian?”
“Not particularly.”
“I could insult the nonprofit.”
“They had a reasonable concern.”
“That has never stopped me.”
Mara smiled.
After they hung up, she opened the stuck kitchen drawer. Daniel’s repair held. Inside lay takeout menus, batteries, and a screwdriver he had forgotten.
She returned to the email archive.
For two days she reviewed every foundation message she had retained. Not to help the hotel case, she told herself. To understand what else she had missed.
She found complaints about housekeeping quotas, broken air-conditioning in staff areas, and a banquet worker injured while moving a stage. She found her own replies thanking people for raising concerns and promising to connect them with the right department.
The right department had often been Julian’s office.
She created a spreadsheet of names, dates, and outcomes. Many outcomes were blank.
Rachel warned her not to contact potential witnesses without coordination. Mara sent the spreadsheet to counsel and waited.
Three former employees agreed to interviews. Four declined. One accused her of building a redemption campaign.
He was not entirely wrong.
Julian’s deposition in the divorce took place in August.
Mara did not attend, but Curtis summarized it afterward. Julian admitted the slap. He described it as an isolated act during extreme emotional distress. He denied controlling Mara’s finances and said she had chosen to stop working. He claimed she had full access to household funds until she removed confidential documents and publicly accused him of involvement in a death.
“He says I used the marriage to access company information,” Mara said.
“Yes.”
“He put the report on his desk.”
“Yes.”
“He discussed the hotel with me constantly.”
“Informally. He is drawing a line between marital conversation and authorized corporate access.”
“Do you believe him?”
Curtis rubbed his eyes. “Belief is not a service I bill for.”
Mara waited.
“No,” he said. “Not entirely.”
Julian also produced records showing that Mara had spent substantial amounts on clothing, travel, and charitable events. Most expenses had been approved or requested by the family office. In legal summaries, they looked personal.
A stylist’s invoice for twelve thousand dollars appeared beside a grocery charge for oat milk. Context flattened everything.
Mara sat with Curtis and identified each expense. Gowns selected for Cross events. Flights booked for foundation work. Gifts purchased for donors at Helena’s instruction.
Then they reached a forty-eight-thousand-dollar transfer to Mara’s personal account made nine months before the separation.
“What is this?” Curtis asked.
Mara stared at it.
“I forgot.”
“Try harder.”
“Julian gave it to me after our anniversary.”
“For what?”
“He said I should have something that was mine.”
“Was there a note?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Any email?”
“No.”
“Did he describe it as a gift?”
“Verbally.”
“Who heard?”
“No one.”
Curtis leaned back. “They may characterize it as evidence you had independent funds.”
“I spent most of it.”
“On what?”
Mara looked at the statement.
Payments to a private investigator appeared over four months.
Curtis read the name. “Who is Owen Beck?”
Mara’s throat tightened.
“I hired him.”
“To investigate Julian?”
“To find out whether the Grand Lake report existed somewhere else.”
Curtis removed his glasses. “You did this before consulting Rachel?”
“The first payment was two weeks before.”
“What did he find?”
“Nothing useful.”
“What did you ask him to do?”
“Look for public records, former contractors, inspection disputes. No hacking. Nothing illegal.”
“Do you have his reports?”
“Yes.”
“Why have I never seen them?”
“Because they were useless.”
“That is not your decision.”
Mara felt heat rise along her neck.
“I was trying to protect myself.”
“By concealing an investigator from your legal team?”
“I wasn’t concealing him.”
Curtis looked at her.
She looked away.
The reports contained one fact that was not useless: Owen Beck had interviewed a former electrical contractor who claimed he warned Grand Lake management about the elevator controller the previous year. The contractor refused to sign a statement and demanded payment for further cooperation. Mara had declined.
May you like
Cross Hotels would use the investigator to argue that she had been constructing accusations before the luncheon.
Rachel was furious.
