Chapter 10 - WHAT VICTOR WANTED
I didn’t open the gate.
Nina called Suarez.
I put Victor on speaker.
“What do you want?”
“To help you.”
“From the sidewalk?”
“I thought you might appreciate discretion.”
On the camera, he looked relaxed.
One hand in his pocket.
The other holding his phone.
“I know what Marco did,” he said. “And I know what he’s trying to blame on you.”
“You signed the approvals.”
“I signed hundreds of approvals.”
“Only some of them sent money to fake companies.”
He paused.
Then he laughed softly.
“You’re good at your job. That’s why this can still work out.”
Nina wrote two words on her pad.
KEEP TALKING.
“What can?”
“Your name can disappear from the dispute. Your employer can receive a clarification. Your house stays yours.”
“It already is.”
“There are people who disagree.”
I watched him glance down the street.
For the first time, his shoulders tightened.
“What do you need from me?” I asked.
“A correction.”
“To what?”
“Your interpretation of the records.”
He made it sound like editing punctuation.
“The payments were authorized advances. Poorly documented, certainly. But not theft.”
“And the workers?”
“Separate matter.”
“The fake pregnancy?”
“Elena, focus.”
That almost made me smile.
He had said the same thing during the audit whenever I got close to the accounts he didn’t want examined.
“Who sent the complaint to my employer?”
Another pause.
“You’re asking the wrong questions.”
“No. I finally started asking the right ones.”
A vehicle turned onto the street.
Victor saw it.
His voice changed.
“You should consider what happens when your signature is placed in front of a judge.”
“I am considering it.”
He ended the call.
By the time agents reached the block, he had driven away.
But his visit had left a clear image, a call record, and a proposition made in front of my attorney.
That night, Daniel called Suarez.
He was breathing too fast.
Somebody had contacted his mother.
They knew where she bought groceries.
They knew which bus his younger brother took to school.
Daniel wanted to withdraw.
“I can’t do this,” he said.
I listened as Suarez tried to steady him.
Then a message arrived on my phone.
A photograph of my mother outside her apartment building.
May you like
Under it were six words.
YOU STILL HAVE THINGS TO LOSE.
