Chapter 6 - My Name on Everything —
The man at my apartment worked for a legitimate records-storage company. He hadn’t broken in. Someone had given him a convincing work order and counted on people doing their jobs without asking questions.
Building security kept him downstairs until the police arrived. The pickup request named Victor’s assistant as the contact. It listed foundation correspondence, personal computers, and medical paperwork as property to be collected.
“My laptop?” I said. “He wanted my laptop?”
June nodded. We were in a hotel meeting room with Detective Lena Ortiz, who had come to take my statement. Dorian sat at the far end of the table.
Ortiz studied the work order. “Have you signed anything resembling this?”
“No. But that looks closer to my signature than the medical form.”
June turned the page sideways. “Where does this break in the ink come from?”
I knew immediately.
“Our foundation gala. Last November. The pen skipped when I signed the venue contract.”
I still had the email. My copy of the contract carried the same tiny gap in the second stroke of the A. So did the work order. So did the supposed financial authorization Dorian had finally asked his office to send.
Three documents. One broken line.
Ortiz photographed them together. “That gives us a place to start. We’ll need the originals and their histories.”
“Victor had the gala contract,” I said.
“So did other people,” she reminded me. “We follow the evidence all the way.”
After the interview, Dorian stayed seated.
“I should have asked to see your records.”
“You should have asked me.”
“Yes.”
There was no defense in his voice.
“Do you know how many nights I replayed our last good conversation? I thought if I found the wrong sentence, I could fix this.”
His eyes closed.
“Look at me,” I said. “I did that while you were walking around with evidence you wouldn’t let me answer.”
“I was ashamed that I believed it. Then I was afraid you’d confirm it.”
“So you made me carry the shame for you.”
He didn’t look away this time. “Yes.”
My phone rang. Mara’s name appeared.
“I remembered something,” she said. “Northstar wasn’t a medical supplier. I saw who collected their checks.”
“Who?”
“Adrian’s brother.”
Then I heard three hard knocks through the phone.
May you like
Mara stopped breathing.
“I didn’t tell anyone where I was staying.”
