Part 4
“I know that now.”
“You own the house.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“You own the security system.”
Helen lowered her eyes.
Claire said, “You saw him change the codes last month.”
Helen looked up sharply.
Thomas watched the recognition move through her face.
“He said there had been a breach,” Helen said.
“And you believed him.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” Helen said. “It isn’t.”
Claire’s voice became thinner. “Did you approve the transfers?”
Helen did not answer immediately.
Thomas could almost see her choosing among versions of the truth.
“I approved temporary internal loans,” she said.
“From restricted accounts?”
“Evan said the restrictions allowed reimbursement after project completion.”
“They don’t.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew enough to ask.”
Helen stood, then seemed to remember where she was and sat again.
“The organization was going to miss payroll,” she said. “Two lenders had frozen our construction draws. We had buildings half-open, families scheduled to move in, contractors threatening liens. Evan said we could bridge the gap for sixty days. I signed what he put in front of me.”
Claire stared at her.
“You signed.”
“Yes.”
“And when I asked for the source documents?”
“I told him to handle it.”
“You told me he was under pressure and I should stop treating every mistake like fraud.”
Helen pressed her lips together.
“I said that.”
“Five minutes are over.”
Helen rose.
At the door she turned back. “I called your father.”
Claire’s expression did not change.
“I know.”
“I didn’t call a lawyer first.”
“You called me sick for three months before you called him.”
Helen absorbed that without defense.
Then she left.
Thomas sat beside the bed.
Claire closed her eyes.
“She knew,” he said.
“She knew pieces.”
“That’s knowing.”
“No. It’s choosing not to know. It’s different.”
“How?”
“One is a fact. The other is a habit.”
Thomas thought of the banquet he had almost allowed to continue uninterrupted. He removed his jacket and laid it over the back of the chair. Without the formal coat, he felt underdressed in his pale-blue shirt, ribbons and medals still attached to fabric no longer on his body.
Claire looked at it.
“You came from the ceremony.”
“Yes.”
“You were supposed to give a speech.”
“They survived without it.”
A faint movement touched the corner of her mouth.
“You hate speeches.”
“I hate other people’s speeches. Mine are excellent.”
She gave a short breath that might have been a laugh, then winced and placed a hand against her ribs.
Thomas leaned forward.
“I’m okay.”
He stopped himself from touching her.
After a moment she said, “You can hold my hand. You don’t need written authorization.”
He placed his hand beneath hers. Her fingers were cool.
She slept for three hours. Thomas did not.
At dawn, he found coffee in a machine near the nurses’ station. It tasted burned. He drank it anyway and watched employees change shifts. Shoes squeaked. Phones rang. A custodian replaced a trash bag and hummed quietly to herself.
The ordinary movement of the hospital seemed indecent. Somewhere beyond the curtains, a man complained about the television remote. A child asked for apple juice. The world had not understood that Thomas Hale’s daughter had been locked in a room, so it continued.
He returned to find Claire awake, staring at his jacket.
“You should take that off the chair before it wrinkles,” she said.
“It’s already wrinkled.”
“You never wrinkle.”
“I’ve been retired for approximately fourteen hours. Standards have collapsed.”
This time she smiled.
The smile disappeared when her breakfast tray arrived.
Thomas lifted the lid. Powdered eggs, toast, oatmeal.
Claire looked away.
“When did you last eat?” he asked.
“Yesterday.”
“Before that.”
She picked at the blanket seam.
“Claire.”
“Tuesday, maybe.”
He pushed the tray table closer.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I didn’t ask.”
Her eyes hardened.
Thomas heard himself. He stepped back.
“Sorry.”
“You’ve said that twice in one day.”
“Don’t become accustomed to it.”
She broke a piece from the toast and ate it without butter.
Later that morning, Dana returned with a lawyer from a local nonprofit legal clinic. Thomas offered to pay for private counsel. Claire said she wanted to speak to the clinic attorney first. Thomas opened his mouth, then closed it.
The attorney, Marisol Vega, explained options without promising outcomes. Claire could seek an emergency protective order. She could report the confinement and suspected drugging. She could authorize the hospital to preserve photographs and records. She could send a litigation hold through counsel to the Mercer Housing Initiative and request that relevant electronic data not be destroyed.
“Will that stop Evan from deleting things?” Claire asked.
“It will put people on notice that deletion may have consequences. It won’t create a magic shield around the servers.”
“What about the board?”
“You can notify the audit committee.”
“The chair is Helen’s college roommate.”
“Then we document the notification.”
“What if they say I’m unstable?”
“They may.”
Thomas shifted in his chair.
Marisol glanced at him. “Colonel Hale, would you like to take a walk?”
“No.”
Claire said, “He would not.”
Marisol’s mouth twitched. “Then perhaps he can practice appearing less ready to invade a neighboring country.”
Thomas folded his arms.
Claire said, “That is his relaxed face.”
Marisol worked with Claire for nearly an hour. They made a list: phone, laptop, access credentials, personal identification, medication bottles, financial records, clothing, vehicle keys. Claire’s purse remained at the mansion. Her car was in the garage. Evan knew the passwords to several shared accounts.
They changed what passwords they could from Thomas’s phone. Claire’s hands shook when entering them. Twice she forgot a sequence she had used for years.
Thomas offered to type.
“No.”
She entered the new password again.
When the bank sent a verification code to her missing phone, she stared at the screen until it went dark.
“He took everything,” she said.
Marisol shook her head. “Not everything.”
Claire looked at her bruised arm.
May you like
“It feels like everything.”
The discharge process lasted most of the afternoon. Claire accepted crutches but could barely use them because of dizziness. Thomas borrowed a wheelchair and pushed her through a side exit to avoid reporters who were not there.
