Chapter 7: Breakfast
Richard found me at breakfast.
I had chosen a table near the window, away from the buffet, with my back to the wall.
Sophie had told me once that her boss always sat with his back to the wall in restaurants.
*He says it's so no one can surprise him.* I had thought it was paranoid at the time.
I ordered coffee and eggs and watched the garden outside and waited.
He arrived at eight-fifteen, dressed well, composed.
He set his plate across from mine without asking and sat down.
"You look tired," he said.
"I'm fine."
"Margaret." He poured himself coffee from the carafe on the table.
"I know last night was a shock.
I understand that.
But I need you to hear me before you do something that damages both of us."
"I'm listening."
He seemed slightly surprised that I didn't argue.
He set the carafe down.
"Carolyn is not a reliable source.
She became obsessed after I ended things.
I should have been more careful — I admit that.
It was a mistake and I'm not proud of it." He looked at me steadily.
"But what she showed you, whatever she said — she curated it.
She's been building a case against me in her own mind for months."
"The email was in your voice," I said.
"I know how you write."
A small pause.
"Emails can be manipulated."
"The account balance can't."
His expression didn't change.
But his coffee cup went down a half-inch too carefully.
"The investments were restructured," he said.
"It's a tax strategy.
Everything is accounted for.
If you'd ever shown any interest in the finances—"
"I showed interest.
You told me you handled it."
"Because I do handle it.
That's how we've always worked."
"That's how you arranged it," I said.
"There's a difference."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Something moved behind his eyes — a recalculation.
"You've spoken to a lawyer," he said.
I didn't answer.
"Margaret.
Whatever Grace Ellison or whoever it is has told you—"
"I haven't mentioned any name."
His jaw tightened.
One second.
Then it relaxed.
"I know Carolyn gave you a card," he said.
"She's been planning this.
Don't you see that?
She wanted to blow up our marriage.
She handed you exactly what she wanted you to have."
"Maybe," I said.
"But the account balance was real."
"I told you—"
"Ninety thousand dollars doesn't restructure into four hundred," I said.
"Not without paperwork.
Not without my signature.
And I haven't signed anything."
The garden outside was bright and quiet.
A bird landed on the edge of a planter and was gone.
Richard leaned forward slightly.
"I am going to need you to trust me," he said.
"Twenty-five years.
Whatever problems we have — and I know we have them — throwing that away over one bad flight and a bitter woman's accusations is not the answer."
"I'm not throwing anything away," I said.
"I'm paying attention.
For the first time in a long time, I'm paying very close attention."
He sat back.
The calculation behind his eyes shifted again.
"I think we should enjoy the trip," he said finally.
"We're in Hawaii.
We have five days.
Let's not waste them."
He picked up his fork and began eating as though the conversation had concluded.
I drank my coffee and watched him and thought about *Re: Hawaii — anniversary cover* and what exactly this trip had been designed to cover, and whether he had already done whatever he had come here to do.
When I got back to my room, there was a message from Grace Ellison.
*Checked on Hartwell Capital Strategies this morning.
Call me when you can.*
I called her immediately.
"The LLC has a second registered member," she said.
"Added four months ago.
The name is Richard H."
The room was very quiet.
"He's a partner," I said.
"A silent one.
But yes." A pause.
"Mrs.
H.
— the money didn't disappear.
May you like
It moved.
And now we know where."
