Chapter 5: The First Conversation
I answered on the fourth ring.
"Rachel." His voice was measured.
The tone he used in difficult work meetings.
"I think it's time we talked."
"All right."
"Not over the phone.
In person.
Can you come to the house?"
"No."
A pause.
"Then somewhere neutral.
I just want to talk."
"We can talk now."
Another pause.
Longer.
He hadn't expected that.
"Fine." I heard him move, a door closing somewhere on his end.
"I know you've been speaking with Rebecca Shaw.
I know she's filed some kind of motion.
I need you to understand that whatever she's told you, there are two sides to this."
"I'm listening."
"The money I moved — I moved it to protect us.
Both of us.
There were liability concerns with the portfolio structure.
Gordon advised me that restructuring was necessary."
"Gordon advised you to put sixty-two thousand dollars into your mother's account?"
Silence.
"Rachel—"
"And to open a second account in her name that I didn't know existed?"
"That's not — it's more complicated than that."
"Then explain it."
"I can't explain it properly over the phone.
That's why I want to meet."
"Daniel." I stopped walking.
I was standing on the pavement outside the coffee shop, and the morning was cold and very clear.
"I've already spoken with Claire."
The silence this time was different.
"She showed me your messages," I said.
"The ones about Gordon's holding company.
The ones about making sure I couldn't trace anything."
"Whatever she showed you, she doesn't have the full context—"
"She forwarded everything to my attorney this morning."
I heard his breathing change.
"Rachel, listen to me.
Claire is not someone you should trust.
She has her own agenda here.
She's angry and she's trying to—"
"She's trying to what?"
"She's trying to use you to get back at me.
We ended things.
She's not handling it well."
"You ended things?"
"Last week.
It was — it wasn't easy, but I realized that what I actually wanted was to fix things with you.
That's what I'm trying to do right now.
Come back.
We can start over.
I'll get rid of Gordon, we'll restructure everything properly, and we can—"
"Daniel."
He stopped.
"You moved two hundred and forty thousand dollars out of our joint accounts.
You forged my authorization.
You involved your mother.
You had a plan in place for at least eighteen months." My voice was steady.
I was surprised by how steady it was.
"And now you're telling me you want to fix things."
"People make mistakes—"
"This wasn't a mistake.
A mistake is forgetting an anniversary.
What you did took eighteen months and a financial advisor and a holding company."
"Rachel, please—"
"If you contact me again outside of what Rebecca authorizes, I will consider it harassment." I paused.
"Do you understand?"
Nothing.
"Daniel."
"I understand," he said.
Very quietly.
"Good."
I hung up.
My hands were shaking.
I pressed them flat against my thighs and stood there until they stopped.
Then I called Rebecca.
"He's going to try to move more money," I said when she picked up.
"He's panicking."
"Already ahead of you," she said.
"The freeze went through an hour ago.
He can't touch the joint accounts."
"What about Gordon's holding company?"
"That's the next step.
I've referred the financial fraud component to a colleague who handles exactly this.
His name is Marcus Webb.
He's going to want to speak with you today if possible."
"I'm available."
"Rachel." Rebecca's voice shifted slightly.
"I want you to be prepared for the fact that Daniel is going to fight this.
Hard.
He has resources and he has people around him who will help him.
This is not going to resolve quickly."
"I know."
"Are you all right?"
I looked up at the sky over Cambridge.
Pale blue.
The kind of sky that didn't promise anything.
"I will be," I said.
I meant it.
But when I got back to Natalie's apartment and sat down on the edge of the guest bed, the navy-blue dress was still in my open suitcase where I had folded it three nights ago.
I hadn't moved it.
I reached in and lifted it out.
The silver beads caught the light from the window.
I held it for a moment.
Then I hung it in the closet.
Not because I was saving it.
Just because it deserved better than a suitcase.
That evening, Natalie's doorbell rang.
May you like
She looked through the peephole and turned back to me with an expression I hadn't seen on her face before.
"It's Sandra," she said.
