Chapter 6: The Briefcase
Dominic arrived at the mansion at two o'clock on Friday afternoon.
I watched from the upstairs window.
He came in a black car, same as always.
Stepped out without waiting for the driver to open the door — a habit of his that had always irritated me, though I'd never been able to explain why.
He carried the briefcase in his left hand.
Black.
Brass clasps.
The monogram DV pressed into the leather near the handle.
He didn't look up at the windows.
He never did.
I had thirty minutes before Tessa's shift ended.
I spent them in the sitting room off the main hallway, a room nobody used, with a book open on my lap that I didn't read.
At 2:24, Arya's laugh drifted from the east wing.
At 2:31, footsteps crossed the marble floor toward the study.
One set.
I counted to sixty.
Then I moved toward the hallway and stopped near the sitting room doorway, where I could see the study door without being visible from inside it.
The door was three-quarters closed.
Through the gap, I could see Dominic's jacket draped over the back of the chair.
The briefcase on the floor beside the desk.
The brass clasps facing up.
I could not see Dominic.
Then I heard him on the phone.
"Tuesday is confirmed," he said.
"Both physicians.
The evaluation is at ten." A pause.
"No, he doesn't know.
He thinks it's a routine follow-up." Another pause, longer.
"The girl is a non-issue.
Arya handled it." His voice dropped slightly.
"After Tuesday, it doesn't matter what she knows."
My hands tightened on the wheel rims.
*After Tuesday, it doesn't matter what she knows.*
He wasn't talking about the evaluation anymore.
I backed away from the doorway before he could finish the call.
Tessa was in my room when I arrived.
She had her coat on.
She was supposed to be leaving.
"He's in the study," I said quietly.
"On the phone.
He said after Tuesday it doesn't matter what you know."
She didn't flinch.
"Did he say anything else?"
"Both physicians are confirmed for ten o'clock Tuesday."
She reached into her coat pocket and removed her phone.
She held it up so I could see the screen.
Three photographs.
The first showed a document on the desk — a single page, partially visible, with a letterhead I recognized as Dominic's private holding company.
The second showed a line of text: *Transfer authorization pending evaluation outcome — $2.4M.*
The third showed a signature at the bottom of the page.
Dominic's.
And beneath it, in a second ink, a different hand.
Arya's.
"When?" I asked.
"Twenty minutes ago.
He left the briefcase open when he went to find her." She put the phone away.
"The document references the evaluation by date.
It references the postnuptial by title.
And it has both their signatures on a financial transfer that doesn't exist yet." She met my eyes.
"It's a pre-signed authorization.
They signed it before the evaluation happened.
Before you were declared anything."
"Because they already know what the evaluation will say."
"Yes."
I thought about what Carver had said.
*I want them to walk into a room they believe they control.*
"Send those to Carver," I said.
"Right now, before you leave."
She was already typing.
"Done," she said thirty seconds later.
"Go home.
Don't come back until Sunday morning.
I'll tell Arya you have a family obligation."
"She'll be suspicious."
"She'll be annoyed," I said.
"There's a difference.
Annoyed people don't act.
Suspicious people do." I looked at her.
"Right now she thinks you're manageable.
Let her keep thinking that for two more days."
Tessa buttoned her coat.
"Vincent." She stopped at the door.
"Dominic said after Tuesday it doesn't matter what I know." She looked at me directly.
"Does that mean what I think it means?"
"Yes."
Her jaw tightened.
"Then we'd better not lose."
She left through the service exit.
I sat in the hallway for a moment, listening to the house.
From the east wing, Arya's voice again.
Lighter now.
The voice she used when she was pleased about something.
From the study, the sound of the briefcase clasps snapping shut.
I turned toward the elevator.
In two days, Reyes would be in the city.
In three days, Carver would have everything he needed.
In four days, two physicians who believed they were walking into a controlled evaluation were going to find something they had not been paid to find.
A man who was entirely capable of running his own affairs.
A man who had spent the last week watching, listening, and building something they couldn't see.
The elevator doors opened.
I went upstairs.
At dinner, I told Arya I was tired.
May you like
She smiled and said she understood.
That night, for the first time since the shooting, I slept without difficulty.
