Chương 4
“I asked three times.”
“You never said you suspected fraud.”
“I didn’t know whether it was fraud yet.”
“And now you do?”
“I know the signature is not one I placed on that page.”
He looked toward Daniel.
“How long has she been doing this?”
Daniel answered carefully. “Mrs. Ellison contacted outside counsel seven weeks ago.”
James flinched at the surname.
Nora had resumed using Ellison professionally after finding the altered document. She had not announced the change. The foundation’s attorneys had continued addressing her as Mrs. Rowland because most people preferred familiar mistakes.
“Seven weeks,” James said. “You’ve been living here, eating dinner with me, letting me think—”
“Letting you think what?”
“That we were trying.”
Nora looked at the black belt on the chair.
James followed her gaze and stepped away from it.
His face changed.
The three marks had faded, but the memory of the night that made them had not faded in proportion. There had been no cinematic eruption, no smashed furniture, no dramatic warning. There had been an argument in the dressing room after a charity dinner. James had been drinking. Nora had refused to sign an authorization. He had removed his belt with trembling hands and told her, twice, not to make him feel powerless.
What happened afterward had lasted less than a minute.
The apology had lasted until morning.
For weeks, Nora had called it an isolated event because the other phrase—my husband hit me—would have required choices she was not ready to make.
James stared at the belt.
“I didn’t bring that in here for you.”
“I know.”
“My trousers were tight.”
“I know.”
“You’re making it look—”
“I didn’t put it there.”
He ran both hands through his hair.
Daniel remained near the door, still and uncomfortable. Nora could have dismissed him. James wanted her to. That was reason enough not to.
“I was drunk that night,” James said.
“Yes.”
“I apologized.”
“Yes.”
“You said you wanted to move forward.”
“I said I needed time.”
“That was four months ago.”
Nora’s voice lowered. “I was trying to understand how long you had been taking money from me.”
James’s hands dropped.
The silence widened.
“You think the accounts have something to do with that night?”
“I think you needed my signature. I think I said no. I think you were afraid your mother would find out you had promised funds you couldn’t access.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then tell Daniel what happened.”
James looked at him, and the refusal arrived before any words did.
Nora closed her eyes for one second.
When she opened them, James had moved closer, though he still kept several feet between them.
“The money went to foundation obligations,” he said. “Commitments we had already made. Restoration grants. The museum partnership. The Hartford program.”
“Some of it did.”
“All of it.”
“Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars went to Rowland Strategic Services.”
“That’s a consulting entity.”
“It has your name, your mailing address, and no employees.”
“It manages donor relations.”
“It paid your club dues.”
“That club is where donors are.”
“It paid for a watch.”
“A donor event.”
“It paid the deposit on your mother’s Palm Beach apartment renovation.”
James glanced toward the empty chair where Evelyn had been sitting.
“That was temporary.”
“Temporary money still leaves the account.”
He drew a breath and held it. His eyes were beginning to redden, but he did not cry.
“You don’t understand what it costs to keep all this functioning.”
Nora looked around the library.
“What, exactly?”
“The reputation. The events. The relationships. Your grandmother left assets. She did not leave a modern operation.”
“She left professional managers.”
“She left cautious people who said no to everything.”
“She left people who knew the difference between a foundation and a family wallet.”
James’s mouth tightened.
“This is why I didn’t tell you every detail.”
“That sentence is why you’re leaving.”
He looked as if she had struck him.
Nora did not feel powerful. She felt cold beneath the cardigan, though the library was overheated. She could hear Mae speaking softly to a staff member in the corridor. Somewhere upstairs, a vacuum cleaner started and stopped.
James reached for the back of the sofa, then let his hand fall.
“Are you asking for a divorce?”
“I’m telling you that you cannot stay here as my husband.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have tonight.”
Daniel picked up the blue folder.
“The written access terms are inside,” he said. “Mr. Rowland, you may remain in the east guest suite until nine tomorrow morning. After that, arrangements can be made for supervised retrieval of personal property.”
James laughed under his breath.
“You drafted an eviction notice for me.”
“It is not an eviction notice,” Daniel said. “It is a revocation of permissive occupancy.”
“Thank you. That sounds much warmer.”
Nora nearly smiled, and the fact that she could almost find humor in the exchange made her unexpectedly sad.
James saw it.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“No.”
“You smiled.”
“People do strange things when they’re tired.”
He studied her, searching for cruelty because cruelty would have made her easier to oppose.
Nora buttoned the cardigan to her throat.
“Go upstairs,” she said. “Take what you need for the night. Mae will have someone bring your remaining things to the east suite.”
“I don’t need Mae to handle my clothes.”
“No. You need a witness.”
James stared at her.
Then he picked up the belt from the chair.
Nora’s body reacted before her mind did. Her shoulders locked. Her left foot shifted backward.
James noticed.
He froze with the belt hanging from his hand.
Shame appeared on his face so abruptly that Nora almost looked away to spare him. She did not.
He folded the belt once, slowly, and set it back on the chair.
“I’ll leave it,” he said.
He walked out without another word.
Daniel waited until James’s footsteps reached the stairs.
“Do you want police here?”
“No.”
May you like
“Nora.”
“He has never threatened me in front of a witness. He has not threatened me tonight. I don’t want an unnecessary confrontation.”
