Chapter 7: What Daniel Needed to Say
He looked smaller without the watch.
That was the first thing I noticed when Daniel stepped into the lounge doorway.
Not smaller in height — he was still a tall man in an expensive suit — but smaller in the way that people become when the thing they've been using to take up space has been removed.
He stopped at the threshold.
"Is she asleep?" he said, looking at Ellie.
"Yes."
"Good." He exhaled.
"I'm glad she's okay.
I want you to know that.
Whatever else — I'm glad she's okay."
"Say what you came to say, Daniel."
He came in and stood near the porthole, not sitting, keeping distance between us.
"I didn't know about the accounts," he said.
"I want you to know that too.
I knew your father had invested in Mercer Capital early on.
I knew he had some influence over the board.
I thought it was normal.
Rich families do that."
"They do," I said.
"And sometimes they do other things too."
"I didn't ask enough questions." He said it plainly, without dressing it up.
"I know that.
I was building something.
Your father had money and connections and I wanted both.
I didn't look at where the money had been before it came to me."
"And Lillian?"
He looked at the floor.
"She told me her family had a connection to Vale Global.
She said if I pursued the contract, it would help her family's situation.
I thought she meant financially.
I thought it was about—" He stopped.
"I thought it was simpler than it was."
"She used you," I said.
"Maybe.
Or maybe I let myself be used because it was convenient." He looked up.
"I'm not trying to make myself the victim here.
I'm trying to be honest with you because I think you deserve honesty from at least one person on this boat tonight."
Ellie shifted in her sleep.
We both waited.
She settled back down.
"Why are you telling me this?" I said.
"Because I'm going to cooperate fully with the investigation.
I've already told Petra's team that.
I've already told my own attorney." He straightened slightly.
"And because your father is going to try to make this about you.
He's going to say you orchestrated this.
That you and Marcus set a trap.
He's going to say you've been planning this for years to destroy the family."
"He's not wrong about the years part," I said.
"But I didn't plan tonight.
I came for Lillian's wedding."
"I know that."
"Do you?"
"Yes." He said it without hesitation.
"I watched you all evening.
You stayed downstairs.
You kept Ellie quiet.
You were trying to get through one night without a scene.
Your father created the scene.
Your mother finished it."
I looked at him for a moment.
"You're going to need to say all of that again," I said.
"To the investigators.
Clearly and completely."
"I will."
"And Lillian?"
He was quiet for a long moment.
"I don't know what Lillian knew," he said finally.
"I genuinely don't.
I know she wanted the contract to happen.
I know she wanted her father's situation resolved.
Whether she knew the full extent of what he'd done—" He shook his head.
"I can't tell you that.
I'm not sure she can tell you that."
He moved toward the door.
"For what it's worth," he said, "I'm sorry about the watch.
Ellie didn't do anything wrong.
She was just a little girl picking up a spoon."
He left.
I sat with that for a moment.
Then I heard footsteps on the deck above — slower than before, heavier, the sound of someone being escorted rather than walking freely.
Marcus appeared in the doorway.
"Your father has agreed to surrender his passport," he said.
"His attorney negotiated it as a show of cooperation."
"He's not cooperating," I said.
"He's buying time."
"Yes." Marcus didn't disagree.
"But Petra has everything she needs.
Time doesn't help him now."
I looked at Ellie.
"I want to take her home," I said.
"The car is ready.
Hargrove will stay to finish the documentation."
I gathered the blanket around Ellie and lifted her.
She was heavy with sleep, her arms loose, her head dropping against my neck.
"Claire."
I turned.
Marcus was holding the blue envelope.
"Do you want to give this to Helen?
Or keep it?"
I thought about my mother's handwriting.
The careful cursive.
*I told myself I was protecting the family.
I was protecting him.*
"Keep it," I said.
"I'll decide what to do with it when I'm not standing on a boat."
He tucked it into his jacket pocket.
We walked out together into the night air.
The harbor authority boat was pulling away.
The guests had mostly gone.
The string quartet's empty chairs were still arranged in a neat semicircle near the bow, the music stands holding pages that no one would ever play.
My mother was standing near the gangway.
She saw me carrying Ellie.
She took one step forward.
I stopped.
We looked at each other across about six feet of polished deck.
She opened her mouth.
"Not tonight," I said.
I walked past her.
She didn't follow.
But as I reached the gangway, I heard her voice — very quiet, not directed at me, not directed at anyone.
Just said into the air.
"I'm sorry, Ellie."
I kept walking.
May you like
I didn't know yet whether that was the beginning of something or just the end of a very long night.
I wouldn't know for a while.
