Chương 3
The door closed.
For several seconds Richard stared at the empty space where his wife had been.
Then he sat down on the fourth stair above Sarah.
Neither of them spoke.
Brooks gave instructions to the other officer, made a call, and eventually moved into the kitchen to speak with someone on his radio. The second officer remained near the front door.
Sarah and Richard sat two steps apart.
He smelled faintly of coffee and the cedar aftershave he had used since she was in college.
Sarah looked at his hands.
“What did you sign?”
Richard rubbed his palms on his pants.
“Sarah.”
“What did you sign?”
“I want to explain this correctly.”
“That usually means there’s an incorrect version you’ve already practiced.”
His mouth tightened.
“You’ve been away a long time.”
She looked at him.
“Seven thousand miles, apparently.”
He flinched.
Sarah regretted the line immediately.
Not because it was false.
Because it sounded like Margaret.
Richard stared at the floor.
Brooks returned before either said anything else.
“Colonel, EMS is outside. They can look at your shoulder without transporting you.”
“I’m fine.”
Brooks gave her the same expression the other officer had.
Sarah exhaled.
“Okay.”
She stood carefully.
Outside, the suburban street looked offensively normal.
A child rode a bicycle past the police vehicles and slowed enough to stare until a woman called him from a driveway. A delivery van rolled by. Someone across the street stood behind a curtain pretending not to watch.
Margaret sat in the rear of a patrol car.
She turned her face away when Sarah came outside.
Sarah let the paramedic examine her shoulder. Nothing appeared dislocated. He recommended imaging if the pain worsened or movement became limited.
“You hit your head?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He asked her the date.
She gave it.
He asked where she was.
“My parents’ house.”
The answer felt unexpectedly difficult.
The paramedic finished.
Brooks waited beside the walkway.
“I need to ask you something about the documents,” he said.
“All right.”
“Your father told dispatch he believed your signature had been forged.”
Sarah looked toward the house.
“He said that?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say by whom?”
“No.”
Sarah watched Margaret through the rear window of the cruiser.
“Did my mother know he called?”
“Based on what I just watched, I’m guessing no.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Brooks gave her a brief, almost apologetic nod.
“No. We don’t know what she knew.”
Sarah appreciated the correction.
“Did he say how he found out?”
“He said he saw documents this morning that he believed contained your signature, and he knew you hadn’t been in the country on the date shown.”
“Why today?”
“That’s one of the things we need to determine.”
Sarah nodded.
The patrol car carrying Margaret pulled away.
Sarah watched until it turned at the corner.
A strange thought came to her.
Her mother was barefoot.
Sarah turned to Brooks.
“Her shoes are still inside.”
“We can make sure they go with her belongings later.”
Sarah nodded.
Of all the things to think about, her mother’s shoes seemed ridiculous.
But there they were.
One under the table.
One somewhere in the hall.
Real life was apparently willing to leave even its ugliest moments unfinished around the edges.
Brooks asked if Sarah had somewhere else to stay.
“A hotel.”
Richard appeared in the doorway.
“No.”
Sarah turned.
His voice had been louder than she expected.
“You don’t need a hotel.”
She almost laughed.
“You’re suggesting I stay here?”
“No. I mean—”
Richard stepped outside.
He had aged during the last half hour. Sarah knew that was impossible, but it was how he looked.
“I can leave.”
Sarah studied him.
“Where?”
He seemed not to have considered that.
“Tom’s.”
“Uncle Tom is in Arizona.”
Richard rubbed his forehead.
“Right.”
Brooks looked between them.
“I’ll give you some room, but investigators will need to speak with both of you.”
Sarah nodded.
After Brooks moved away, Richard sat on the porch step.
Sarah remained standing.
“Dad.”
He looked at the grass.
“Were you part of it?”
Richard said nothing.
Sarah’s shoulder began to ache in rhythm with her heartbeat.
“Were you part of it?”
He whispered, “Yes.”
Sarah turned away.
Across the street, the curtain moved again.
She lowered her voice.
“How much?”
Richard looked confused.
“How much what?”
“How much of it did you know?”
He opened his mouth.
She stopped him.
“Don’t start with what you didn’t know. Tell me what you did.”
Richard breathed through his nose.
“She said the house had to be refinanced.”
“Mom.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And the bank wouldn’t proceed because of the ownership structure.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
“I knew there were complications.”
“Dad.”
“I knew your share was a problem.”
Sarah stared at him.
“My share.”
“I don’t mean you were a problem.”
“That’s exactly what you mean.”
“No.”
He stood, then seemed to think better of being closer to her and stayed where he was.
“Your mother said it was temporary.”
“What was temporary?”
“The transfer.”
Sarah stared.
“She told you I agreed to sign away my ownership?”
“She told me you had said you didn’t care about the house.”
“I don’t care about owning the house.”
Richard nodded quickly, as though this helped him.
“But that is not the same sentence.”
His nod stopped.
Sarah had told Margaret years earlier that she did not want the property. She had said it after her grandmother died, when the attorney explained the one-third interest.
Margaret had responded, “Good. Then we won’t have trouble later.”
Sarah remembered it now because of the exact way Margaret had said good.
She had always assumed it meant relief.
Maybe it had meant permission.
Sarah looked at Richard.
“Did you see me sign anything?”
“No.”
“Did you speak to me?”
“No.”
“Did you receive an email from me approving it?”
“No.”
“Did you think I had signed?”
Richard hesitated.
“At first.”
“At first.”
May you like
His shoulders fell.
“I asked questions.”
