Chapter 7 - THE MAN ON THE RECORDING
They repaired Lucy before anyone examined the card.
Emma watched every stitch.
Then Maria took her into the next room while Ruiz, Nora, and Vincent waited for the technician.
The card held photographs, spreadsheets, and two audio files.
The first recording began with the scrape of a chair.
Owen Carter’s voice followed.
“I’m not signing these.”
Adrian answered.
“You’re not being asked to approve them. Just process them.”
“Those buildings are supposed to be occupied. You’re billing maintenance on units that don’t have working plumbing.”
“They’re being renovated.”
“Some don’t have windows.”
Vincent stared at the screen.
The companies named in the spreadsheets belonged to a housing fund his father had established.
Low-income rentals.
Rehabilitation grants.
Properties Vincent had toured once, years earlier, with cameras and smiling local officials.
Owen spoke again.
“Where’s the money going?”
A second man answered.
Frank.
“Keep your voice down.”
Vincent felt his stomach turn.
His head of security.
The man who had watched the doors.
The man who had explained away the missing footage.
The recording ended with Adrian saying, “You have a wife. Think about what happens to her if you make this difficult.”
Ruiz asked the technician to stop.
“Where’s Frank now?”
One of the patrol officers answered from the doorway.
“He said he was checking the exterior cameras.”
“Find him.”
The second audio file was shorter.
Owen sounded breathless.
“Maria, if you’re hearing this, I waited too long. I thought I could give Vincent the records myself.”
A pause.
A car door slammed somewhere nearby.
“He signed the approvals. I don’t know if he understands what they’re using them for.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Not innocent.
Not proven guilty.
Something worse to live with: a man whose indifference had been useful.
Owen continued.
“I copied the originals somewhere they won’t think to look. Don’t let them tell you I stole from you.”
The recording cut off.
From the next room came Maria’s muffled sob.
She had heard enough through the doorway.
Vincent stood, then stopped.
There was nothing he could say that would make five years smaller.
A patrol officer hurried back.
“Frank’s vehicle is gone.”
Ruiz turned toward the front hall.
At the same moment, Vincent’s phone rang.
Frank’s name filled the screen.
Ruiz pointed to the speaker button.
Vincent answered.
Frank didn’t bother pretending.
“Your brother says you found the doll.”
Vincent’s gaze went to the next room.
May you like
Frank continued.
“Tell the detective to check how many people still have keys to Maria’s apartment.”
