Chương 6
Then it softened something.
Not enough.
“But that made you believe Michael?”
“It made me listen.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
Claire said, “I should have told you sooner.”
“Yes.”
“I should never have hit you.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have an explanation that makes either one acceptable.”
“No.”
She nodded.
“I’m still sorry.”
Daniel did not answer.
Evelyn’s phone vibrated.
She stepped into the hallway, spoke quietly, then returned.
“The lower road may reopen around six in the morning if the avalanche team clears the west slope.”
Daniel checked the time.
11:18 p.m.
He suddenly felt exhausted.
Not sleepy.
Exhausted in the way people became after waiting in hospitals.
“What happens now?” Claire asked.
Daniel looked at her.
“You tell me. Apparently everyone else has had meetings.”
She accepted that.
“Michael gets here when he can. You hear him out. Then we decide what to do with the documents.”
“We?”
Claire’s face tightened.
“No. You.”
Daniel stood.
“I want a different room tonight.”
She nodded too quickly.
“All right.”
Evelyn asked, “Would you like me to arrange—”
“I can operate an elevator.”
“The elevators are temporarily stopped.”
Daniel looked at her.
Evelyn did not smile.
“I can operate stairs too.”
His suite was on the sixth floor.
Claire remained in the VIP lounge.
Daniel went to the room alone.
He did not undress.
He sat in an armchair by the dark window with the old service log in his lap and Rebecca’s letter on the side table.
At 12:07 he read the letter again.
At 12:40 he opened his phone and searched eight years of archived messages.
Rebecca’s thread was still there.
He had replaced four phones since her death, but everything had migrated from one device to another like a ghost with excellent technical support.
He scrolled to February 18.
There it was.
The photograph of the burgundy napkins.
Another message at 9:38.
Borrowing something from your dad. Don’t tell him. I enjoy being alive.
Daniel stopped.
He had responded with a laughing emoji.
He stared at it until his vision blurred.
The next message came at 10:12.
Can you call when free?
He had replied:
Dinner. 30 mins?
Rebecca:
Fine.
Then at 10:46:
Not fine. Call me.
He had not seen it.
The missed call came at 11:07.
Daniel set the phone down.
The room seemed to tilt slightly.
He stood, went to the bathroom, and splashed cold water on his face.
The mark from Claire’s hand had faded to a dull red.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
Forty-one.
Short dark hair beginning to gray slightly over the ears, though he usually pretended it was the hotel lighting. His father had been forty-eight the night Rebecca died.
Daniel tried to picture Charles frightened.
It was difficult.
His father became angry, amused, impatient, contemptuous. Fear was something Charles described in other people.
Daniel’s phone rang at 1:16.
His father.
Daniel stared at the screen.
Nobody except Michael knew Daniel had spoken to Michael.
Claire might have told Charles.
Evelyn might have.
Michael certainly might have.
Daniel answered.
“Dad.”
Charles Carter’s voice was clear and awake.
“Where are you?”
Daniel looked at the snow.
“North Crown.”
A pause.
“With Claire?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing there in this weather?”
“Marriage retreat.”
Charles gave a short laugh.
“Christ. Are you eighty?”
Daniel said nothing.
His father noticed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Another pause.
Charles had always been good at silence when he wanted someone else to fill it.
Daniel let him wait.
Finally Charles said, “Michael called me.”
There it was.
Daniel sat down.
“What did he say?”
“He said he’s coming to see you.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“I need you to listen to me before he gets there.”
Daniel looked at Rebecca’s letter.
“You’re worried.”
“I’m annoyed.”
“You sound worried.”
“I’m not going to play psychology with you at one in the morning.”
Daniel almost said, You never played with us at any hour.
He stopped himself.
“What does Michael want?”
Charles exhaled.
“Money, probably. Redemption. Attention. Your brother has spent his life setting fires and then feeling wounded when people notice the smoke.”
“Were you at North Crown the night Rebecca died?”
Silence.
Not long.
Two seconds, perhaps.
But enough.
Charles said, “Who told you that?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes, I was.”
The admission felt both enormous and strangely ordinary.
“Why did you tell me you were in Denver?”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I told you I’d been at the Sullivan dinner.”
“In Denver.”
“The dinner was in Denver.”
“You let me believe you stayed there.”
Charles’s voice cooled.
“Daniel, what exactly has Michael told you?”
“That you followed Rebecca when she left.”
“He’s lying.”
“That your Escalade was damaged.”
A longer silence.
Daniel stood.
“That part got your attention.”
“Cars get damaged.”
“Green paint under the bumper.”
“Daniel.”
“Her car was green.”
“I know what color her car was.”
“Did you hit her?”
“No.”
The answer came firmly.
Daniel breathed out.
Then Charles said, “Not the way he’s telling you.”
Daniel’s grip tightened around the phone.
There were sentences that changed the air pressure in a room.
“What way did you hit her?”
“I didn’t say I hit her.”
“You just said not the way he’s telling me.”
“I said Michael is taking facts out of context.”
“What context makes your damaged car less important after my wife went over a mountain?”
Charles did not answer.
Daniel heard a glass set down on a hard surface.
His father was drinking.
Perhaps scotch. Charles still bought the same Islay bottle by the case.
“Rebecca and I argued,” Charles said.
Daniel sat again.
“About what?”
“Company business.”
“What company business?”
“It was complicated.”
“Try me.”
“Not over the phone.”
Daniel laughed.
“Interesting. Everybody wants to tell me in person tonight.”
May you like
“Listen to me. Do not sign anything Michael gives you. Do not send anything to law enforcement. Do not talk to the resort. And for God’s sake, keep Claire out of this.”
Daniel looked at the bruise-colored shadow on his cheek.
