Chapter 8: The Man Who Started It All
I showed Darcy the message the moment I walked in.
She read it twice.
Then she set the phone on the desk between us and looked at it the way you look at something that confirms what you already suspected.
"Victor Marsh," she said.
"Has to be."
"He knows you've been pulling records.
Either Julian told him, or he has someone watching the process." She picked up her pen.
"Don't respond yet."
"I wasn't going to."
"Let him wait.
Let him wonder how much you know." She made a note.
"The fact that he's reaching out directly means he's worried.
That's useful."
I sat down.
My coat was still on.
I hadn't realized until now that I was cold.
"If I meet him," I said.
"You're not meeting him."
"If I do — with you present, recorded, everything documented — could it help the case?"
Darcy considered that for longer than I expected.
"Potentially.
If he says anything that connects him to the transfers, to the debt structure, to the use of the company.
But Marsh is careful.
He's been through investigations before.
He won't say anything direct."
"Then I'll ask indirect questions."
"Sloan—"
"Darcy.
He reached out to me.
That means he thinks he can manage me.
He thinks I'm a frightened wife who's found some papers she doesn't fully understand." I looked at her.
"Let him keep thinking that."
She studied me for a moment.
Then she sat back.
"If we do this, I control the conditions.
Location, recording, timing.
You don't go anywhere near him without me knowing exactly where you are."
"Agreed."
"And if at any point he says something threatening — anything that sounds like pressure or a warning — you end the meeting immediately."
"Agreed."
She nodded slowly.
"I'll have my investigator run a full background on Marsh by tomorrow morning.
Then we decide."
My phone buzzed again.
Julian, this time.
I looked at Darcy.
She gave me a small nod.
I answered.
"Sloan." His voice was different from the morning.
The anger was gone.
What was left was something quieter and more careful.
"I need to talk to you."
"I know."
"Not with lawyers.
Just us."
"All right."
A pause.
He hadn't expected agreement.
"Tonight?
I can come to wherever you're staying."
"Tomorrow," I said.
"Neutral location.
I'll send you the address."
"Sloan, I need you to understand—"
"Tomorrow, Julian."
I ended the call.
Darcy was watching me.
"You're going to meet him before Marsh."
"Yes.
Because if Julian is willing to tell me the truth — all of it — then I have a choice to make about how hard I push on the rest of this." I set the phone down.
"And if he lies to me again, then I know exactly what to do."
She nodded.
She didn't argue.
That evening, back at Paula's, I sat at the kitchen table while Paula made soup she said I didn't have to eat if I wasn't hungry.
She moved quietly around the kitchen, not asking questions, not offering opinions.
At one point she set a bowl in front of me and sat down across the table.
"You doing okay?" she asked.
"I don't know yet."
She nodded.
"Fair enough."
We sat in silence for a while.
I ate some of the soup.
It was good.
"Paula," I said.
"Did you ever meet a man named Victor Marsh?
Through Julian, maybe, years ago?"
She thought about it.
"The name sounds familiar.
College friend?"
"Supposedly."
She frowned slightly.
"Julian mentioned him once, maybe two years ago.
Said he'd run into him again.
Said it was good to reconnect." She looked at me.
"Why?"
I looked at my bowl.
"Because I think he's been in our lives a lot longer than Julian let on," I said.
"And I think he's the reason for most of this."
Paula was quiet for a moment.
Then she said, "What are you going to do about him?"
May you like
I picked up my spoon.
"I'm going to let him think he's in control," I said, "right up until he isn't."
