Chapter 8: The Things That Came After
The formal investigation opened on a Thursday.
I know because Nathaniel told me that morning in the kitchen, not in a meeting, not through Gerald, but simply while I was making coffee and he came in and said: "They opened it.
I thought you should know."
"Thank you," I said.
He poured his own coffee, which he had not done once in five years.
I had always brought it to the study.
"The foundation board wants to make a public statement," he said.
"Acknowledging the irregularities and the investigation.
Arthur Fenwick drafted it." He looked at his cup.
"They want to include a line about the role of a household staff member in bringing the matter to light."
I turned around.
"I'd rather they didn't," I said.
"I told them that.
They're willing to keep it general." He paused.
"Elena, you protected the foundation.
You protected people you've never met who depend on those programs."
"I took a photograph and didn't know what to do with it for seven weeks."
"You kept it," he said.
"That mattered."
I didn't answer.
I wasn't sure what to do with being told that I had done something right, when for seven weeks I had been certain I was doing something wrong by staying quiet.
Lily came into the kitchen at that moment in her socks, hair loose, looking for breakfast with the directness of someone who has not yet learned to be uncertain about what she needs.
She stopped when she saw Nathaniel.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," he said.
Same as the hallway.
Same careful steadiness.
"Do you live here?" she asked.
"I do."
She considered this.
"We live here too.
In the small part."
"I know," he said.
"I'm glad you do."
She seemed to find this acceptable.
She climbed onto the kitchen stool and asked me for toast with the strawberry jam, not the orange one.
Nathaniel watched her for a moment.
Then he said, quietly, so only I could hear: "I owe you an apology."
"You don't."
"I do.
Not for the investigation.
For five years of not seeing what was happening in my own house.
What she said to Lily at the gala — that didn't come from nowhere.
That came from a climate I allowed." He set his cup down.
"I'm sorry for that."
I looked at my daughter, who was now examining the two jam jars with the seriousness of someone making an important decision.
"Strawberry," Lily confirmed.
"Strawberry it is," I said.
Three weeks later, Vanessa Lowell and her brother Derek were formally charged.
Eleven counts between them.
Wire fraud, misappropriation of charitable funds, identity fraud for the use of Nathaniel's authorization codes.
Derek Lowell's offshore account was frozen within forty-eight hours of the charges being filed.
Vanessa's attorney entered a not-guilty plea and immediately began negotiating.
Claire called me when the charges were announced.
"It's done," she said.
"The filing is public."
"Will she face real consequences?"
"The state attorney wants to make an example.
The charitable funds piece is the strongest count.
Juries don't like stolen children's programs." A pause.
"Yes.
Real consequences."
I was in the garden when she called.
Lily was nearby, adding to her leaf collection.
"Mama," she said, holding up a yellow one.
"This one's perfect."
May you like
"It is," I said.
"Put it with the good ones."
