Chapter 4: Three Hundred and Forty Thousand Reasons
I read the number twice.
$340,000.
I looked up at Daniel.
He was watching my face, and whatever he saw there made him shift against his pillows.
"Who are you talking to?" he said.
"Someone more honest than you."
"That phone could be anyone.
An ex-employee with a grudge.
Someone Jessica knows who's trying to—"
"Stop saying her name like she's a victim in this room."
Jessica had moved away from the wall.
She was standing near the window now, arms crossed, looking out at the car park below.
She hadn't spoken since my mother identified her.
I typed: *Who did it go to?*
The reply took longer this time.
*A company.
Registered eighteen months ago.
One director.
I'll send you the name but you need to meet me first.
There's more than documents.
There's a recording.*
A recording.
I put the phone in my pocket and looked at Daniel.
"I'm going to ask you one question," I said.
"And I want you to think very carefully before you answer, because I still have a lawyer in my contacts and I will use him."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"You're being dramatic."
"Hargrove Solutions," I said.
"What is it?"
The name came to me from nowhere — or so I thought, until I realized I had seen it.
Once.
On a transfer receipt near the bottom of the folder.
Partially obscured by a coffee ring.
I had almost missed it.
I hadn't missed it.
Daniel went very still.
"That's a business investment," he said.
"Completely legal."
"Whose business?"
"Mine.
A private arrangement."
"You invested $340,000 of our money into a private arrangement and didn't tell me."
"It's not your money.
I earned—"
"We are married," I said.
"In this state, that makes it marital assets.
My lawyer will be delighted to explain the rest."
Jessica turned from the window.
"Daniel." Her voice was flat.
"What is Hargrove Solutions?"
He didn't answer her either.
She walked to the foot of his bed.
"I'm asking you a direct question.
I left my job for you.
I have been waiting for six months for you to leave her, and you told me the money was for us.
For after." Her voice cracked on the last word, just slightly.
"So what is it?"
"It's complicated," he said.
She laughed.
It was not a happy sound.
"That's the second time you've said that today," I told him.
I took the folder from the bedside table where he had set it down.
I found the receipt.
I held it up so he could see that I had found it.
"One director," I said.
"Registered eighteen months ago.
Who is it?"
He looked at the ceiling.
"Daniel."
Nothing.
"I will walk out of this room right now and call my lawyer and your cardiologist and the hospital administrator, and I will do it in that order." I kept my voice level.
"Or you can tell me who owns Hargrove Solutions."
He closed his eyes.
"My brother," he said.
The room went quiet.
I heard my mother draw a sharp breath behind me.
Marcus.
His brother Marcus, who had sat at our dinner table every Christmas for fifteen years.
Who had held our children on his lap.
Who had given a speech at our wedding about loyalty and family.
"Marcus," I said.
"It was supposed to be an investment.
He needed capital to—"
"You gave your brother three hundred and forty thousand dollars of our money," I said, "while your kidneys were failing, while I was being tested as your donor, while I was signing consent forms and going under general anesthesia—"
"It wasn't like that."
"Then tell me what it was like."
He opened his eyes.
And for the first time since I had walked into that room, he looked genuinely afraid.
"Marcus knows things," he said quietly.
"About the affair.
About Jessica.
He was going to tell you.
I had to—" He stopped.
"You paid him," I said.
"You paid your own brother to keep quiet about your affair.
With my money.
While I was saving your life."
Jessica made a sound I couldn't name.
She picked up her bag from the chair by the window.
"I need some air," she said, and walked out.
My phone buzzed one more time.
*There's a second company.
May you like
And a second woman.
Neither one is Jessica.*
