Chương 3
A deputy appeared at the door.
Adrian rose.
“What happens now?” Mara asked.
“I give a statement.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He understood, but he had never been good at admitting that he understood helplessness. He reached toward her and stopped before touching her hair.
“I’ll make sure he can’t reach you.”
“There,” she said. “That.”
“What?”
“You decide what safety means, and everyone else has to live inside it.”
His hand dropped.
The deputy cleared his throat.
Adrian left without answering.
By sunrise, Elliot had been treated for bruised ribs and several superficial cuts. He was arrested on suspicion of domestic assault after officers reviewed the initial scene, Mara’s statement to Adrian, and the condition of the room. Adrian was cited for assault and ordered to appear in court. The security team’s temporary containment of the property was referred to the county attorney for review.
Nothing about the night moved as quickly as Adrian believed it should.
Mara’s scans showed a concussion, a fractured cheekbone that would likely heal without surgery, and two cracked ribs. There were finger-shaped bruises on her forearm and older discoloration beneath them.
When Detective Walsh noticed the older marks, she did not point dramatically or ask why Mara had hidden them. She pulled the visitor’s chair closer and rested a small recorder on her knee.
“Do you want anyone here with you?”
“No.”
“Do you want an advocate from the hospital?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to come back?”
Mara stared at the paper cup of water on her tray. A fine crack ran down the waxed rim.
“I don’t know.”
Walsh nodded. “Then I can sit for a minute.”
They sat.
The morning shift changed beyond the door. Shoes squeaked. A nurse laughed at something near the station, then lowered her voice. Mara noticed that one of Walsh’s coat buttons had been replaced with a slightly different shade of gray.
“You saw the room,” Mara said.
“I did.”
“You saw me.”
“Yes.”
“What else do you need?”
“The truth in a form other people can challenge.”
Mara gave her a tired look. “That’s a terrible slogan.”
“It is. That’s why it isn’t on the brochures.”
The corner of Mara’s mouth moved and pulled painfully against the dried cut.
Walsh waited.
“He wanted me to sign something,” Mara said.
“What?”
“A statement.”
“About what?”
Mara’s fingers tightened around the cup. “My father’s company.”
“What kind of statement?”
“I didn’t read all of it.”
“That’s not quite an answer.”
“I had read enough.”
Walsh did not write. “What happened when you refused?”
“He took my phone.”
“Then?”
“We argued.”
“About the statement?”
“About everything.”
Walsh’s voice remained even. “Did he hit you?”
Mara looked toward the window. Morning had turned the glass gray.
“Yes.”
“More than once?”
“Yes.”
“Did you strike him?”
“I threw wine at him.”
“With the glass?”
“I don’t remember.”
Walsh watched her face. “Not remembering is allowed. Guessing is not.”
Mara swallowed.
“He grabbed my wrist. The glass broke. I tried to get past him. He pushed me. I hit the floor near the fireplace.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“I think so.”
“How did your father know to come?”
“I called him before Elliot took the phone.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I needed him.”
“Did you tell him to bring armed security?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him not to call police?”
Mara hesitated.
Walsh noticed. “Why?”
“Because I thought I could leave before he got there.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Mara pressed her lips together.
Walsh picked up the recorder and switched it off. “We can stop.”
“What happens to Elliot?”
“That depends on evidence, your cooperation, his record, what prosecutors believe they can prove, and several things neither of us controls.”
“He’ll be released.”
“Possibly.”
“He’ll tell everyone my father attacked him for no reason.”
“There is video from the living room.”
Mara’s eyes returned to Walsh.
“The interior camera system stopped recording approximately eleven minutes before your father entered,” the detective said. “It resumed when the doors opened.”
Mara felt cold beneath the hospital blanket.
Walsh continued. “The recorded portion shows your father entering, kneeling beside you, approaching Mr. Rourke, and putting him through the table. There is no audio until the security system reconnects several seconds later.”
“He turned the cameras off.”
“Can you prove that?”
“He knew the code.”
“So did you.”
Mara looked down at the water cup.
Walsh stood. “I’ll return this afternoon. Before then, think about the statement he wanted you to sign. Not what you wish it said. What it actually said.”
After she left, Mara tried to sleep.
She saw Elliot’s hand beneath the coffee table instead.
The memory arrived without warning. He had crouched beside the bronze frame before pouring the wine, his fingers working near the cap of one leg. When she asked what he was doing, he said the table was uneven.
At the time, she had believed him.
At noon, a nurse brought broth, crackers, and a folded menu for the next day. Mara stirred the broth until a thin film formed on top.
Her friend Tess Brennan arrived carrying a phone charger, clean clothes, and a paperback Mara had left at her apartment two years earlier. Tess was a labor attorney with a habit of reading endings first and lying about it. She stopped at the foot of the bed.
“Oh,” she said.
Mara looked away.
Tess put everything on the chair and removed her coat slowly. “I had a whole speech in the car.”
“I’m relieved you lost it.”
“I didn’t lose it. It just became stupid.”
She came closer but did not touch Mara until Mara reached for her.
May you like
Tess held her hand with both of hers.
They had known each other since college, when Mara still cut the labels from expensive clothes because she hated how quickly people changed around money. Tess had discovered the habit during sophomore year and said it was the most aristocratic form of pretending not to be rich she had ever seen.
