Chương 4
“That isn’t true.”
“Did he know whether you took medication tonight?”
“He knows where the bottle is.”
“Would he have access to it?”
“We live in the same house.”
“Did he give you anything to drink?”
Livia’s lips parted and closed. “Wine.”
“Did you see him pour it?”
“No. It was at my place.”
Elias felt Mara shift behind him.
Noland asked, “Would you consent to blood testing?”
The question seemed to shame Livia more than the others. Color moved slowly into her face.
“Yes.”
The nurse returned with a collection kit.
While blood was drawn, Elias watched the bruise at Livia’s wrist and kept himself still. Sebastian’s story had changed the room. It no longer mattered only whether he had touched her. He had offered a version of her that could be written down: medicated, drinking, unstable, mistaken.
It was a familiar tactic. Elias had heard it from husbands, employers, partners, parents. Not always because they were lying. Often because the safest truth was the one that made the injured person unreliable.
Noland closed her notebook. “Mr. Crowe has been detained while we complete the initial investigation.”
Livia’s eyes flicked toward her father.
“For what?” she asked.
“Probable domestic battery, based on the physical evidence and the circumstances at the residence. That decision isn’t dependent on whether you request it.”
“He’ll be released.”
“Likely after processing and a bond hearing.”
“How long?”
“I can’t promise a timeline.”
Livia looked down at the tape covering the needle mark in her arm. “He has counsel.”
“I’m sure he does.”
“He has three firms.”
Noland’s face softened slightly. “That doesn’t change what happened in the room.”
“It changes what happens after.”
No one answered because she was right.
Near midnight, a nurse brought Elias a paper cup of coffee. He drank it without noticing the taste. Mara left to secure their equipment and speak with their unit chief. Before she went, she stood beside Livia’s bed.
“I need to ask one thing,” she said.
Livia looked up.
“Your phone. Do you know where it is?”
A pause.
“The library.”
“Where in the library?”
“Desk drawer.”
“Did you put it there?”
“Yes.”
“Before or after you called your father?”
“Before. I used my watch to call.”
Mara glanced at Elias.
He had not known the call came from her watch. He had not thought to check.
“Why leave the phone in the library?” Mara asked.
Livia’s voice became almost inaudible. “I wanted it recording.”
Elias stood.
The chair legs scraped the floor.
Mara did not look away from Livia. “Recording what?”
“A conversation.”
“Was the recorder active?”
“I think so.”
“Did Sebastian know?”
“Not at first.”
“What happened when he found out?”
Livia closed her eyes.
The room’s machinery continued its soft, indifferent beeping.
“He told me to unlock it,” she said. “I wouldn’t.”
Elias moved toward the bed. “He grabbed you.”
“Dad.”
“He grabbed your wrist because of the phone.”
She opened her eyes, and the restraint in her face broke—not into tears, but anger.
“I need you to stop deciding which part belongs to you.”
The words landed with more force than anything Sebastian had said.
Elias remained standing. His broad shoulders seemed too large for the curtained room.
Livia looked toward Mara. “The phone is in the right-hand drawer beneath a stack of property files. The drawer locks. The key is taped under the back edge of the desk.”
Mara nodded. “I’ll tell Detective Noland. They’ll need your written consent to retrieve it without a warrant.”
“I’ll sign.”
“Do you know what the recording contains?”
“No.”
“Do you want them to listen?”
Livia’s breathing slowed. She looked at Elias once, then away.
“Yes.”
Mara left.
Elias lowered himself into the chair again.
“You planned to record him,” he said.
“I planned to ask him questions.”
“About what?”
She turned her remaining pearl earring between two fingers. “Money.”
The Crowe name appeared on hospitals, university buildings, a downtown theater, and half the invitations Livia had mailed during the ten years of her marriage. Sebastian’s grandfather had built warehouses near the river. His father had turned them into office towers and luxury apartments. Sebastian had inherited the habit of describing wealth as stewardship and consequences as misunderstandings.
Livia had served as president of the Helena Vane Arts Fund, a small foundation created after her mother’s death. It paid for music and visual arts programs in public schools. Sebastian had helped invest its reserve funds through a Crowe family office. Elias knew this only in the vague way he knew the machinery behind Livia’s public life. She sent him annual reports. He read the first page and told her he was proud.
“Three weeks ago,” Livia said, “our accountant asked why we had guaranteed a loan.”
“What loan?”
“A development loan for one of Sebastian’s companies.”
“You signed that?”
“No.”
The word came flat.
Elias felt his thumb rubbing the pale ring mark again and stopped.
“How much?”
“Four point eight million.”
He stared at her.
“The fund doesn’t have that.”
“It has property and endowment assets. The guarantee let his company borrow against them.”
“Your signature was forged.”
“I don’t know yet. The document was electronic. It used my foundation credentials.”
“Who had them?”
“I did. The accountant did. Sebastian’s office managed filings.”
“You confronted him tonight.”
“I asked him to explain.”
“And you recorded it.”
“I was trying to.”
“Why didn’t you call me before you went home?”
Her expression changed, tiredness sharpening into something older. “Because you would have arrived with a gun.”
He had no answer that did not prove her point.
May you like
The blood test later showed no sleep medication in Livia’s system. It showed alcohol at a level consistent with one glass of wine.
By two in the morning, Detective Noland had obtained Livia’s signed consent, sent officers back to the mansion, and located the phone exactly where she said it would be. The locked drawer had marks around the keyhole. Someone had tried to open it without the key.
