Chương 4
“Sophie.”
“What?”
“How much money?”
“About six hundred thousand.”
He turned.
She watched his face.
“Over eighteen months,” she said. “Not all at once.”
Nathan pulled the visitor chair closer and sat again.
“Who else knows?”
“My finance director knows I had questions. She doesn’t know why.”
“Anyone else?”
“I emailed myself copies.”
“To which account?”
“My personal one.”
Nathan’s mouth went dry.
“And the laptop in your bag has access?”
“Yes.”
He stood again.
This time Sophie did not accuse him of pacing.
“Where’s the bag now?”
“I told you. Entryway.”
“The police are still there.”
“Your phone is with them.”
Nathan looked toward the door.
A nurse passed carrying a plastic cup of ice.
He pressed the call button.
Sophie said, “What are you doing?”
“Getting a phone.”
“From the nurse?”
“Borrowing one.”
“You’re not borrowing a nurse’s phone.”
“Then I’ll use the hospital desk.”
Sophie watched him.
Some of the fog had lifted from her eyes.
“Nathan.”
“What?”
“Don’t turn this into one of your deals.”
He stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“You know what it means.”
“No. Tell me.”
“It means you don’t get to become the smartest person in the room and make everyone else a variable.”
He almost answered too quickly.
The words stayed behind his teeth.
Sophie looked tired again.
“I need you to be my husband,” she said. “Not my investigator.”
Nathan sat down.
Outside the room, a cart wheel squeaked every time someone pushed it past.
He listened to it come and go.
“All right,” he said.
It was not all right.
But he stayed.
An hour later, Detective Lena Morales arrived from the precinct handling the initial response.
She was in plain clothes, carrying Nathan’s phone in a clear property pouch and a small notebook she rarely looked at.
She asked Sophie whether she felt able to talk.
Sophie said yes.
Morales asked Nathan to step outside.
“No,” Sophie said.
The detective looked at her.
“I want him here.”
Nathan sat against the wall.
Morales began with the least interesting questions. How long had Sophie known Vanessa? Did Vanessa have access to the penthouse? Had the two argued before? Was there any reason Vanessa might want to hurt her?
Sophie answered carefully.
They had met at twenty-one at a fundraising internship in Washington. Vanessa had been maid of honor at Sophie and Nathan’s wedding. She had been with Sophie in the hospital after Sophie’s mother died. She had keys to Sophie’s first apartment. She knew which side of the bed Sophie slept on and that Sophie hated cilantro and that she lied about enjoying skiing because Nathan loved it.
Morales did not write down the cilantro.
“Any romantic issue?” she asked.
“No.”
“Financial dispute?”
Sophie hesitated.
Nathan watched her.
“Yes.”
Morales looked up.
Sophie described the invoices.
The detective asked for names.
Sophie gave two vendor names and one consulting company she could remember.
Nathan recognized none.
Morales asked, “Did Ms. Reed know you were reviewing them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
“I asked our finance director to send supporting documentation.”
“Who normally approves payments?”
“Under fifty thousand, either Vanessa or the finance director could. Larger ones needed two approvals.”
“Did Ms. Reed work for the foundation?”
“She’s an outside strategic adviser.”
“Paid?”
“Yes.”
Nathan felt ashamed that he did not know the amount.
Morales turned to him.
“You’re on the board?”
“I’m not.”
She seemed surprised.
“Sophie wanted the foundation independent from my company.”
Morales nodded.
“Good separation.”
Nathan could not tell whether she was complimenting Sophie or questioning him.
The detective placed his phone on the rolling table.
“The security company confirmed the alert came from their own system. We’re preserving the data. The recovered clip is short.”
“How short?” Nathan asked.
“Fifty-three seconds.”
“Does it show her changing the pills?”
“No.”
Sophie’s face tightened.
“What does it show?”
Morales turned toward her.
“Ms. Reed at the hallway security panel. The video feed cuts out. Audio continues for approximately twelve seconds. We hear the statement you heard. Then the file ends.”
“Who was she talking to?” Nathan asked.
“We don’t know.”
“Can you get her phone?”
“If we establish the appropriate basis, yes.”
“She was reaching for it when I called 911.”
“That matters, but it doesn’t automatically let me search her phone.”
Nathan disliked the answer because it was reasonable.
Morales continued.
“She says she deleted the recording because she accidentally entered a private code on camera and was concerned it would remain in your cloud history.”
Nathan stared at her.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe.”
“She knows the cameras don’t record keypad detail from that angle.”
“Did she know that before today?”
Nathan stopped.
“I don’t know.”
Morales nodded.
“That’s why we ask questions.”
Sophie said, “What did she say about the pills?”
“She denies touching them.”
“And the voice?”
“She acknowledges it’s probably her voice.”
“Probably?”
“She says the sentence is being taken out of context.”
“What context makes that sentence normal?”
Morales looked at her for a moment.
“I haven’t heard one yet.”
That helped less than Nathan expected.
After the detective left, Sophie slept.
Nathan sat beside the bed until his neck hurt.
At six-thirty, a nurse brought him coffee from the family lounge without being asked. He thanked her and drank half of it before realizing it was sweet.
He hated sweet coffee.
He drank the rest anyway.
His phone was returned after the necessary data transfer had been arranged. There were thirty-seven missed calls and more than a hundred messages.
His father had called four times.
His chief of staff had called nine.
Three board members had texted.
The building manager had sent a message asking whether he wanted temporary suspension of all guest credentials.
Nathan turned the screen facedown.
Sophie opened her eyes.
“Your kingdom needs you?”
“No.”
“That many calls means yes.”
“They can survive an evening without me.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
May you like
“You said that like you’re trying it for the first time.”
He looked at the coffee cup.
