Chương 9
Logan glanced at Amelia.
She looked away.
Rusk continued.
“I’ve sent a preservation notice to the diner’s publicly listed business email requesting that all security footage from noon onward be retained.”
“Nora will see that?”
“Eventually.”
“Vance might too if he gets access.”
“That is possible.”
“Then he’ll know lawyers are involved.”
“He already knows Logan called someone.”
Amelia rubbed her arms.
“From me.”
No one answered.
The weight of that remained hers.
Rusk said, “I’m also documenting the voicemail and photograph you described.”
“Are you calling the FBI?”
Amelia asked.
“I am contacting a duty attorney to determine whether there is an existing federal matter that makes your evidence relevant.”
“Shaw said there was.”
“She said your name appeared in an index associated with a sealed matter.”
“That sounds like one.”
“It is not enough for me to tell you what it means.”
Logan respected him more for refusing certainty.
Rusk said, “One more thing.”
“What?”
“Neither of you leaves that house alone tonight.”
Amelia laughed bitterly.
“You said Vance wants Logan to react.”
“Yes.”
“So we stay home and let him scare everyone else?”
“For tonight, yes.”
“That feels cowardly.”
Logan answered before Rusk could.
“Sometimes cowardly and smart wear the same coat.”
Amelia looked at him.
“Is that a SEAL thing?”
“No.”
“My dad used to say it when he didn’t want to drive during a blizzard.”
For the first time all afternoon, Amelia laughed for real.
It lasted barely two seconds.
Then she covered her face with both hands.
Logan sat across from her.
He did not touch her.
Not yet.
Rusk told them he would call back within an hour if he received anything useful, then ended the call.
The kitchen fell quiet.
Outside, Mrs. Weller’s dog barked at something invisible.
Amelia lowered her hands.
“Did you ever kill anyone?”
Logan stared at her.
The question was badly timed and completely inevitable.
“Yes.”
She swallowed.
“How many?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Because it’s classified?”
“Because counting people out loud won’t help either of us.”
She studied him.
“Were they all bad?”
Logan leaned back.
There were questions that became easier with distance.
That one had not.
“Some were dangerous.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
She waited.
He looked at the grocery list on the refrigerator.
Milk.
Dish soap.
Coffee.
Bananas.
“Sometimes we were right.”
Amelia’s expression changed.
“And sometimes?”
“Sometimes we only had the information we had.”
The refrigerator motor kicked on.
Amelia looked down at her wedding ring.
“I don’t know who you are.”
“That makes two of us today.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“I know.”
She twisted the ring once.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because when we met, you liked me because I could fix your alternator for sixty dollars.”
“It was eighty.”
“I overcharged you.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I wanted to be that guy.”
“The mechanic?”
“The man whose worst problem was whether a customer’s transmission would last another winter.”
She looked toward the garage.
“You could have told me later.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Logan rubbed his thumb along a scar on his knuckle.
“Because every year I waited made the truth uglier.”
“That I understand.”
The words were quiet.
He looked at her.
She met his eyes.
For a moment they were not husband and wife fighting over secrets.
They were simply two people who had both discovered that delay could become a kind of deception.
Amelia’s phone buzzed on the table.
Neither of them moved.
Then another buzz came.
And another.
Three messages.
Not from Vance.
The sender was Caleb Harris.
Amelia stared at the name.
“I haven’t heard from him since yesterday.”
“Don’t open them yet.”
She shot Logan a tired look.
“I’m beginning to hate that sentence.”
“I know.”
He picked up his old phone and started recording the screen before she unlocked hers.
Amelia opened the first message.
I need to see you privately.
The second arrived thirty seconds after the first.
Do not talk to Vance.
The third was longer.
I made a mistake and he knows what you found.
Amelia’s face went pale.
A fourth message appeared while they watched.
He is going to blame the vendor accounts on us.
Logan felt the room narrow again.
Amelia whispered, “Us?”
Her phone rang immediately.
Caleb Harris.
This time, before Logan could say anything, Amelia answered.
“Cal?”
A man on the other end breathed heavily.
“Amelia, listen to me.”
“Where are you?”
“Don’t ask that.”
“What do you mean he’s blaming us?”
“I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
“Not on the phone.”
Logan heard movement, then what sounded like a car door shutting.
Cal’s voice dropped.
“Did you keep copies?”
Amelia looked at Logan.
He shook his head once.
She ignored him.
“Yes.”
Logan closed his eyes.
Cal inhaled sharply.
“Where?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Good.”
That answer surprised all of them.
Cal continued quickly.
“Do not give them to Dominic.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“He’s going to say I approved everything and you processed it.”
“Did you approve it?”
Silence.
“Cal?”
“Some.”
Amelia stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
“You told me they were reimbursement accounts.”
“I know.”
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“How much did you take?”
“Amelia, it wasn’t like that.”
“How much?”
“Not what he took.”
“That is not an answer.”
Cal began speaking faster.
“I signed things because Dominic said the vendors were legitimate and the county needed flexibility.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
His voice cracked.
“No, I don’t.”
Logan watched Amelia’s anger change.
Not soften.
Focus.
Cal said, “At first I thought the invoices were padded.”
“At first?”
“Then I figured out one of the companies was routing money back through a property partnership.”
“Whose?”
“Dominic’s brother-in-law.”
Amelia looked at Logan.
There was the first hard link.
Not proof yet.
But a direction.
“Why didn’t you report it?” she asked.
Cal laughed once, a broken sound.
“Because by then my signature was on eighteen approvals.”
“You kept signing after you knew?”
Another silence.
May you like
“Yes.”
Amelia closed her eyes.
