Chương 5
“She gave you three thousand dollars?”
“I paid it back.”
“When?”
“Over six months. It came out of my checks.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“I didn’t know I needed your permission.”
“You didn’t.”
“Then why are you asking like that?”
He sat on the chair opposite her.
“I’m not angry with you.”
“That’s comforting because it would be insane.”
He looked almost embarrassed.
“You’re right.”
Claire folded her arms.
“It was for my dad. Insurance didn’t cover everything. She offered before I asked.”
Graham looked down at his hands.
“She offered?”
“Yes.”
“And afterward?”
“What?”
“Did she ever mention it?”
Claire hesitated.
That was enough.
His eyes came back to her.
“How often?”
“Not often.”
“Claire.”
“She didn’t threaten me.”
“I didn’t ask that.”
Claire picked at a loose thread on her jeans.
“She’d say things. If I asked for a schedule change, sometimes she’d say she had been flexible when I needed help.”
“How many times?”
“I don’t know.”
“More than five?”
“Probably.”
“More than ten?”
“I don’t count.”
“You count everything.”
“That’s starting to feel less charming.”
He leaned back.
“Sorry.”
Claire looked at him.
“She helped me. I needed it. She didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
“So don’t turn it into something else because you’re angry with her.”
Graham’s jaw tightened.
“I’m trying not to.”
“Try harder.”
He gave her a long look.
Claire almost took it back.
Then he nodded.
“Okay.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Lillian appeared at the open doorway.
She had not changed clothes. Her navy dress still looked immaculate. Only the position of one silver earring had shifted slightly.
Her eyes moved from Graham in the chair to Claire on the bed.
“How cozy.”
Graham stood.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You managed.”
Lillian held up her phone.
Claire’s heartbeat changed.
“I checked,” Lillian said. “There is no recorder application installed.”
Graham stared at the phone but did not reach for it.
“Now?”
“What does that mean?”
“Was there one installed twenty minutes ago?”
Lillian’s mouth tightened.
“No.”
“Let me see the battery usage.”
Her face hardened.
“You said you weren’t asking for my phone.”
“I’m asking now.”
“No.”
Claire looked between them.
Graham spoke carefully.
“You wanted Claire to surrender hers.”
“Claire is accused of putting a surveillance device in my personal belongings.”
“And now there is evidence the device may be paired with your phone.”
“There is your assumption.”
“You can end the assumption.”
“I am not handing you my phone so you can search through it because an employee invented a story.”
Claire stood.
“Stop saying employee like I’m not standing here.”
Lillian turned.
The look she gave Claire was almost one of disbelief.
“You are standing in a private room in my house telling me how to speak?”
“It’s not your private room.”
“It is literally my room.”
“It’s the room you assigned me.”
“That does not transfer ownership.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Lillian,” Graham said.
She ignored him.
“I have treated you extraordinarily well.”
Claire felt something hot climb into her chest.
“Sometimes.”
Lillian went still.
Graham closed his eyes briefly.
Claire knew she had crossed a line.
She also knew she could not uncross it.
“Sometimes?” Lillian repeated.
Claire wanted to be careful. She failed.
“You can be generous. You can also make people feel like they owe you for breathing.”
Graham looked at Claire sharply.
Lillian’s face changed.
For the second time that evening, pain appeared before anger.
Claire hated seeing it.
She hated herself slightly for causing it.
Then Lillian said, “Get out.”
Claire grabbed her tote.
“I’m trying.”
She walked past both of them.
Graham followed.
Lillian did too.
They returned to the foyer together, absurdly, like a family leaving a theater after a bad movie.
The handbag remained exactly where Lillian had slammed it onto the beige bench.
The recorder was still inside.
Its red light was blinking.
Claire stopped.
“That battery is going to die eventually,” she said.
Neither Mercer answered.
She shifted the tote on her shoulder.
Graham went to the bench.
“Don’t touch it,” Lillian said.
“I’m not.”
He crouched beside the bag and looked closely.
Claire stayed several feet away.
“Can you read the serial number?” he asked.
Lillian said, “Why?”
“So I can identify the device without handling it.”
“You already identified it.”
“The model. Not this unit.”
Claire looked at Lillian.
The older woman was watching Graham with the fixed concentration of someone watching a lock being picked.
Graham took his phone from his pocket.
Lillian’s voice sharpened.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking a photograph of the serial number.”
“You’re photographing my purse?”
“The recorder.”
“No.”
Graham straightened.
For several seconds neither moved.
Then Claire understood something that seemed embarrassingly obvious.
Lillian was afraid of the serial number.
Claire stepped toward the bench.
Lillian immediately looked at her.
“Don’t.”
Claire stopped.
“What?”
“Stay away from my bag.”
“I am.”
“Then why did you move?”
Claire looked at Graham.
He had seen it too.
Not evidence.
Behavior.
But behavior mattered.
Graham lowered his phone.
“Lillian, where did you buy the recorder?”
“I did not buy it.”
“You knew what it was before I identified it.”
“Anyone can tell what it is.”
Claire looked inside the open handbag.
The device was a plain black rectangle smaller than a pack of gum. No logo was visible from where she stood.
She said nothing.
Lillian saw her looking.
“What?”
Claire shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“No, ma’am.”
That word returned automatically.
Lillian heard the change.
Claire did too.
For a second, both women looked at one another with the strange intimacy of people who have repeated the same ritual too many times.
Lillian’s expression softened.
Barely.
“Claire.”
Graham looked between them.
Lillian stepped away from the bench.
“This has gone too far.”
Claire almost laughed.
The sentence sounded true and dishonest at the same time.
May you like
Lillian continued.
“You’re upset. I’m upset. Graham is doing what Graham does when he thinks he has found a puzzle.”
