Chương 7
The library clock ticked. Somewhere in the kitchen, a pan struck the side of the sink.
“She said other things too,” Richard added. “Most of them less polite.”
Rebecca sat in the chair opposite him.
He rubbed a hand over his beard. “When she got sick, everyone told me to let the doctors guide us. I watched them take three days to return a call while she lost three pounds. I learned that waiting politely was another way to lose.”
“You were like this before she got sick.”
“I was less efficient.”
Rebecca laughed despite herself, then winced and touched her lip.
Richard looked at the desk. “I should not have taken the call.”
“No.”
“I will refer everything to Maya.”
“No company statement?”
“Not without your approval.”
“Not even through someone else.”
His mouth tightened. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
The words felt formal between them.
As she stood, he said, “I knew Trevor was in trouble.”
Rebecca turned.
“How much trouble?”
“I did not know about the lien. His fund had liquidity problems. Two investments failed, and one lender declined to extend a credit line. He asked Lawson Group to guarantee new financing.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“And you said no.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He said you knew.”
Rebecca stared at him.
Richard’s face changed.
“He said you agreed the estate could support the loan,” he said. “He showed me an authorization bearing your signature.”
The room seemed to narrow around her.
“Did you believe it?”
“I believed you had made a foolish decision.”
“But you didn’t ask.”
“You were not speaking to me.”
“You could have called.”
“I did call. Twice.”
Rebecca remembered two missed calls during a prenatal yoga class. Trevor had said her father wanted to interfere with their vacation plans. She had not called back.
Richard opened a drawer and removed a folder. He stopped before handing it to her. “Maya should see this first.”
“Give it to me.”
He did.
The signature looked like hers. Not perfectly. The final stroke of the L was too smooth. Rebecca’s handwriting changed when she was tired, but it always changed in the direction of carelessness, never elegance.
She sat again.
“Do you have the email he sent with this?”
“Yes.”
“Send it to Maya. Not your legal department.”
“I will.”
Rebecca looked at the paper until the letters blurred.
“I signed so many things,” she said. “He would put a tab on the page and stand behind me. Sometimes he’d be on a call. Sometimes Emma was asking for something. I don’t know what’s mine anymore.”
Richard’s answer came slowly. “Then we find out.”
“We?”
“You,” he corrected. “You find out. I will help if asked.”
The next morning, Rebecca returned to the estate with Maya, a security consultant Maya had selected, and two sheriff’s deputies. Richard remained at home with Emma after Rebecca made him promise three separate times not to follow.
The front door was closed now.
Rebecca stopped on the step.
The glass reflected her face, the faint bruise yellowing at the edge, the repaired tooth, the pink scarf Mrs. Alvarez had wrapped around her neck because the morning was cold. Behind the reflection stood the shape of the house.
Maya waited beside her.
“I used to love this door,” Rebecca said.
“Why?”
“It was handmade in Vermont. The glass was from an old hotel.”
“That sounds heavy.”
“It is.”
Maya looked at the brass handle. “Do you want me to open it?”
Rebecca almost said yes.
Then she opened it herself.
The entrance hall smelled of lemon polish and flowers that had begun to turn. Someone had removed the blood from the marble. The family portrait remained beside the staircase, Richard in navy, Rebecca in pale blue, Trevor’s hand resting lightly at her waist, Emma painted from a photograph because she had refused to sit still.
The housekeeper, Lidia Santos, waited near the kitchen corridor with her coat on and her purse over one shoulder.
“Mrs. Hale,” she said.
“Rebecca.”
Lidia looked at Maya and the deputies. “Mr. Hale told us not to speak to anyone.”
“You don’t work for Mr. Hale today,” Maya said.
Lidia’s fingers tightened around her purse. “He terminated all household staff last night.”
Rebecca blinked. “All of you?”
“He said the house is closed.”
“Did he pay you?”
“He sent one week.”
Lidia had worked there for eighteen months. Her husband did landscaping at a condominium complex, and their oldest son had just started community college. Rebecca knew those facts because Lidia sometimes spoke to Emma in the laundry room. She did not know her middle name or whether one week’s pay covered rent.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said.
Lidia gave a small, exhausted shake of her head. “He said we should not come back. I came for my shoes.”
“Your shoes?”
“In the mudroom.”
The deputies began a walk-through. The security consultant photographed the alarm panel and collected access logs from the local hub. Maya accompanied them toward the study.
Rebecca followed Lidia to the mudroom.
Three pairs of work shoes sat beneath the bench. Lidia placed them in a grocery bag.
“Were you here yesterday?” Rebecca asked.
“Until four.”
The assault happened shortly before four thirty.
“Did you hear us arguing?”
Lidia folded the bag closed. “I heard Mr. Hale upstairs.”
“What did you hear?”
“His voice. Not words.”
“Did you hear anything else?”
Lidia looked toward the hall.
“I heard Emma cry.”
“Before or after I came downstairs?”
“I don’t know.”
Rebecca tried to remember. After the punch, there had been no clean sequence. Emma screaming. Trevor saying, Look what you made her see. Rebecca tasting blood. The doorbell ringing because Richard had arrived without warning. She had moved down the stairs with Emma in her arms while Trevor whispered that one bad moment did not erase a marriage.
“Would you tell Maya what you heard?”
Lidia lifted her purse higher on her shoulder. “My husband says we should stay out.”
May you like
“I understand.”
“Mr. Hale helped my son get his internship.”
