Chapter 8: The Call
I didn't hang up.
I should have.
I knew I should have.
But something in his voice — the steadiness of it, the way he said my name like he'd practiced it — made me want to hear what he thought he had.
"How did you get this number?" I said.
"Marlene gave it to me.
About three weeks ago." A pause.
"She's been more helpful than you might expect."
Claire was watching my face.
I held up one finger — wait — and walked to the hallway.
"What do you want?"
"To clear something up," Forsythe said.
"I imagine Marlene has told you a version of events that positions her as the concerned mother trying to protect her son.
I want you to know that's not entirely accurate."
"I'm listening."
"She contacted me first.
Seven months ago.
She had found my name in some old records — I don't know how.
She called and told me she knew I had been married to Claire.
She asked me what I knew about her.
What she was hiding." He let that sit for a moment.
"I told her I wasn't interested in talking.
She called back three days later with a different offer."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"What offer?"
"She said if I could get Claire to leave you — or give her enough to force Claire out — she would pay me twenty thousand dollars."
The hallway was very quiet.
"She hired you," I said.
"She proposed an arrangement.
I told her I'd think about it.
What I actually did was decide to approach Claire directly, because twenty thousand from Marlene felt like less than what Claire might pay to keep her past quiet.
I was wrong about that, as it turned out.
Claire paid what she could and then stopped." He paused.
"I'm not calling to apologize for what I did.
I'm calling because Marlene is now telling people that the blackmail scheme was Claire's idea.
That Claire was paying me to fabricate evidence against your mother."
I leaned against the wall.
"That's what she's going to tell the police," I said.
"That's what her lawyer is going to argue.
I thought you should know before it becomes the official story."
"Why are you telling me this?"
A long pause.
"Because I have a daughter," he said.
"She's seven.
And what I did — the calls, the money, standing outside that school — I'm not going to be able to explain that to her one day if I don't start making different choices now." His voice was quieter.
"I'll talk to the detective.
I'll give them the full account.
Marlene's calls, the offer she made, the dates.
All of it."
"You know you'll be charged."
"I know."
I stood there in the hallway for a moment.
"Detective Reyes," I said.
"She's handling the case.
I'll give her your number."
"I already have her number," he said.
"Marlene gave me that too.
She thought I was on her side."
He ended the call.
I stood very still for a moment.
Then I walked back into the kitchen.
Claire looked at me.
"Who was that?"
"Daniel Forsythe."
Her face went carefully blank.
"He's going to cooperate with the police," I said.
"He says Marlene hired him.
Offered him money to get you out of my life."
Claire didn't move.
"He's also going to tell them that Marlene is planning to claim the blackmail was your idea."
She closed her eyes.
Opened them.
"So she's going to try to take me down with her," she said.
"She's going to try."
Claire was quiet for a moment.
Then she stood up, went to the counter, and picked up her phone.
"I'm calling Reyes back," she said.
"Right now.
Before Marlene's lawyer gets there first."
She was already dialing.
I sat down at the table.
Through the window I could see the street.
Ordinary afternoon.
A neighbor walking a dog.
A kid on a bicycle.
From down the hall, Lily called out: "Dad?
Can I come out now?"
"Yeah, sweetheart," I called back.
"Come on out."
She appeared in the kitchen doorway, tablet under her arm, and looked at both of us.
"Is it getting better?" she asked.
Claire, phone to her ear, reached out and touched Lily's face.
May you like
"Yes," she said.
"It is."
