Chương 2
Madison’s grip tightened on her dress.
Ethan stared at Victoria. “You called the police over an affair?”
“No,” Ortiz said. “She called us about three hundred eighty-four thousand dollars.”
Madison turned toward Ethan.
He did not look at her.
The bedroom behind them still smelled faintly of Victoria’s cedarwood diffuser and the perfume Madison wore, something sweet with a powdery edge. Victoria noticed the absurdity of that combination. Her bedroom and another woman’s perfume. Her husband and the collar he could not button correctly. Her wedding ring sinking through cabernet.
The uniformed officer photographed the phone in place before lifting it into an evidence bag.
Ethan watched every movement.
“You accessed my private device,” he said to Victoria. “You sent material from my account.”
“The phone was unlocked.”
“That doesn’t give you permission.”
“No.”
“You’ve been planning this.”
“Yes.”
The plainness of her answer unsettled him more than denial would have.
Madison took a small step backward. “I need my shoes.”
Ortiz looked at her. “Your name?”
“Madison Reed.”
“Do you have identification?”
“My purse is downstairs.”
“In the kitchen?”
Madison glanced at Ethan before answering. “By the island.”
Ortiz directed an officer to retrieve it.
Ethan’s breathing had grown audible. Not fast, but uneven. He rubbed his thumb across his wedding ring, a gesture Victoria had seen him use before presentations and difficult client meetings. Until that moment, she had not realized he did it when frightened.
“This is a misunderstanding,” he said. “The company uses multiple project vendors. Victoria has no idea how the accounts are structured.”
“I own the company,” Victoria said.
“You design houses. I run the business.”
Ortiz raised one hand. “Neither of you is going to litigate this in the hallway.”
Ethan’s eyes moved toward the front entrance. Two additional officers were coming inside with equipment cases.
“You can’t seize company records without counsel present.”
“We can execute a warrant without your attorney standing beside us.”
“I want to call him.”
“You’ll have an opportunity.”
Madison’s purse arrived. She pulled her phone from it, saw the screen, and went still.
The family group chat had reached her.
Victoria knew because Madison’s face changed in stages. First confusion. Then recognition. Then the deep red flush that began at her chest and moved upward.
“Oh my God.”
Ethan turned. “Don’t open anything.”
“My sister sent me a screenshot.”
“Madison, put the phone away.”
“She knows my name.”
Ortiz extended her hand. “I need the phone.”
“No.”
“Ms. Reed.”
Madison clutched it against her body. “It’s mine.”
“We have authority to seize devices found on the premises if they may contain records related to the accounts described in the warrant.”
“I don’t know anything about accounts.”
Ethan spoke too quickly. “She doesn’t. She has nothing to do with the company.”
Madison looked at him.
It was a small look, but it altered the room.
Victoria saw suspicion enter where affection had been. Not heartbreak. Not yet. Something colder and more useful.
The officer took Madison’s phone after a brief, fumbling exchange in which she demanded a receipt and then apologized for demanding it. She sat on the edge of a hallway bench and pulled at the hem of her dress to cover more of her legs.
Ethan remained standing.
Victoria returned to the sofa.
In the wine glass, her ring had settled at the bottom on its side. A thin ribbon of bubbles clung to the gold.
Her own phone began vibrating on the coffee table.
Claire first.
Then Ethan’s mother.
Then three names Victoria did not immediately recognize because the family chat included cousins who spoke only at Christmas and a brother-in-law who had once tried to sell everyone a vacation timeshare.
She turned the phone facedown.
Ortiz sat across from her. “Did you alter anything on Ethan’s device before we arrived?”
“I selected files and sent them.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Did you delete anything?”
“No.”
“Did you enter any applications using passwords?”
“The phone was unlocked. His photo gallery and email were open.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Victoria looked at her. “I opened the banking app with Face ID while he was sleeping.”
Ortiz closed her eyes briefly.
Ethan laughed once from the hallway. The sound had no amusement in it.
“There it is.”
Victoria kept looking at Ortiz. “You asked me to document current activity.”
“I asked you to preserve records you were lawfully able to access. I did not tell you to unlock his personal banking application with his face.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Ortiz leaned back and studied her. “You may have compromised part of the evidence.”
“I photographed the transfers. You already had the bank subpoenas.”
“We had partial returns.”
“The most recent transfer was scheduled for tonight.”
Ethan moved closer. An officer stopped him with a hand against his chest.
“What transfer?” he demanded.
Victoria looked at him for the first time since the police entered.
“The one to Marrow Reed Consulting.”
Madison stood so quickly the bench struck the wall.
“What?”
Ethan’s face emptied.
Victoria had imagined that moment for three days. In every imagined version, he denied it immediately. He shouted. He called her unstable. He found language fast enough to build another reality around himself.
Instead, he said nothing.
Madison stared at him. “What is Marrow Reed Consulting?”
“No one is asking you to speak,” he said.
“That’s my last name.”
“Madison.”
“What is it?”
Ortiz rose. “Ms. Reed, I strongly suggest you stop asking questions in front of other potential subjects.”
“I’m not a subject.”
Ortiz’s silence answered her.
Madison’s breathing became shallow. She pressed both palms against her thighs as though the room were moving.
Ethan finally looked at her. “It’s an administrative entity. That’s all.”
“You used my name?”
“I didn’t use your name.”
“Marrow is my middle name.”
Victoria had not known that.
The room seemed to narrow around Ethan.
He turned to Ortiz. “I’m done talking.”
“That’s probably wise.”
May you like
“I want my attorney.”
“You may call him when the initial search and safety procedures are complete.”
