Chương 8
Then I blocked her number.
The action was so simple I almost resented it.
Nine years of swallowing responses, and all it took to stop one voice was touching a screen twice.
Doug had sent a longer message.
Claire, I don’t know what’s going on financially, but Richard says the bank froze everything and vendors are already calling.
Please don’t do anything permanent tonight.
I showed it to Tessa.
She read it and handed the phone back.
“He’s asking the wrong person.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know that.”
“Maybe.”
I looked at Doug’s message again.
His lawsuit settlement had cost me one hundred and forty thousand dollars.
He had thanked Richard afterward.
Not me.
Richard had told me Doug was too ashamed to speak about it.
At the time, I believed him.
I typed:
Ask Richard why the company was trying to transfer $800,000 from my personal investment account.
I did not send it.
Naomi had been clear.
I deleted the message.
At midnight, I finally listened to Richard’s first voicemail.
His voice was controlled.
“Claire, we need to stop escalating this.”
I almost turned it off.
Then he continued.
“Madison is confused and upset, and you’re feeding that.”
My jaw tightened.
“She doesn’t understand the financial structure, and frankly neither does Naomi.”
I laughed aloud.
Tessa looked up from the couch.
I held up a finger.
Richard’s message continued.
“The transfer was part of a temporary liquidity move we had discussed.”
I sat perfectly still.
We had discussed no such thing.
“You are making this sound criminal because you’re angry.”
His voice softened.
“I understand you were hurt today.”
There it was.
The plate.
Reduced to hurt feelings.
“I should have said something to Madison.”
A pause.
“I’m sorry I didn’t.”
For one second, I felt the old reflex.
Take the apology.
Make peace.
Restore the room.
Then he added, “But freezing the business and dragging lawyers into our family is not a proportionate response.”
I stopped the voicemail.
The second one had been left forty minutes later.
His voice was different.
Not softer.
Tighter.
“Call me before nine tomorrow.”
No apology this time.
“I need to know exactly what you told the bank and what documents you gave Naomi.”
A rustle sounded behind him.
Then, more quietly, “You don’t understand what happens if they start digging through everything.”
The voicemail ended.
I played that sentence again.
Tessa crossed the room.
“What?”
I handed her the phone.
She listened.
Her face changed.
“Everything,” she repeated.
“Yes.”
“That sounds bigger than one transfer.”
“Yes.”
For the first time since leaving Virginia, I felt something other than grief or anger.
Fear arrived quietly.
Not fear of Richard.
Fear of the size of the thing I had stepped into.
I called Naomi again.
She answered sounding awake.
“You listened to the voicemails.”
“How did you know?”
“Because you ignored my excellent advice.”
I played the second message for her.
She did not speak immediately.
“Did you hear the last sentence?”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lawyer me.”
“I am not.”
A chair creaked on her end.
“It means he is worried about broader scrutiny.”
“Of what?”
“That is what we need to determine.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
I closed my eyes.
“Naomi.”
“Yes?”
“What if the money problem isn’t just the company?”
She was quiet for a beat.
“Then we follow the records.”
I lay down at one thirty and slept in pieces.
At six twelve, I woke to forty-seven new messages.
Most were from numbers I barely recognized.
Cousins.
An aunt.
Two former employees of Cole Family Catering.
One message came from Doug.
Call me.
Another followed.
Please.
Then, thirty seconds later:
Richard is gone.
I stared at the message until the screen dimmed.
Then I tapped Doug’s name.
He answered before the first full ring.
“Claire?”
His voice was hoarse.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“I mean he left.”
“Left where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re calling me at six in the morning to tell me my husband is gone, Doug, so try harder.”
He exhaled sharply.
“Fine.”
There was movement on his end, a door shutting, then the hollow echo of somewhere tiled.
“We stayed at Mom’s last night because everybody was trying to figure out what the hell was happening.”
“Everybody?”
“Me, Lisa, Mom, Richard.”
“Madison?”
“She left.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
I ignored that.
“When did Richard leave?”
“I woke up around five and his truck was gone.”
“That’s it?”
“No.”
Doug lowered his voice.
“His laptop is gone too.”
My stomach tightened.
“Which laptop?”
“The company one.”
“Was it at Eleanor’s?”
“He brought it over last night.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Doug.”
“I don’t.”
He sounded angry now, but not at me.
“Yesterday I thought you were blowing up the company because you were pissed off at Madison.”
“And today?”
A pause.
“Today I’m not sure what I think.”
I sat on the edge of the guest bed.
Tessa’s house was still quiet.
“What changed?”
“Richard started asking weird questions.”
“What kind?”
“Whether Mom still had the paperwork from when you paid off the taxes.”
My fingers went cold.
“Why?”
“He said the bank might ask.”
“Did that make sense to you?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
“He asked Lisa whether I still had copies from the lawsuit settlement.”
“Why would that matter?”
“That’s what I asked.”
“And?”
“He told me to stay out of it.”
That sounded like Richard.
Doug continued.
“Then he wanted everybody’s phones.”
I stood.
“What?”
“Said Naomi might send something and nobody should answer without him.”
“Did you give him yours?”
“No.”
A trace of shame entered his voice.
“Mom did.”
Of course Eleanor did.
“What did he do with it?”
“Nothing, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“He had it for maybe twenty minutes.”
“Did he give it back?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she now?”
“Asleep.”
“Wake her.”
“Claire—”
“Wake her and tell her not to delete anything.”
May you like
“You think Richard did something to her phone?”
“I think Richard has spent months doing things I didn’t know about.”
