Chapter 6: Carol Vance
Carol Vance's office was on the fourth floor of a gray building twelve minutes from my house.
Paula had texted me her number at seven fifty-eight in the morning.
I called at eight-oh-one.
The appointment was set for ten.
I dropped Lily at my mother's without explaining why, just said I had errands.
My mother looked at my face and didn't ask questions.
She pulled Lily inside and handed me a coffee in a travel cup.
"Drive carefully," she said.
Carol Vance was in her late fifties, small, with short silver hair and reading glasses pushed up on her forehead.
She shook my hand, closed her office door, and sat down.
"Tell me everything from the beginning," she said.
"Don't skip anything because you think it's too small."
I told her.
The recording.
The locked office.
Paula's call.
The unknown man with the folder.
Megan at the dinner table.
Mark's face when I asked about the papers.
Carol made notes on a yellow legal pad.
When I finished she set her pen down.
"How are your finances structured?"
"Joint checking.
Joint savings.
I have a personal account from before we married.
Mark has his own as well."
"Do you have access to the joint accounts online?"
"Yes."
"Log in today and download the last twelve months of statements.
Do it from a device he doesn't have access to.
Your work computer or your personal phone." She tapped her pen on the pad.
"Don't move money.
Don't close anything.
Just document what's there."
"Okay."
"The recording." She picked up her glasses and set them back down.
"It's not a confession of fraud or crjme.
But it establishes intent to exclude you from a decision that directly affects your marital estate.
That has value." She looked at me.
"You said the office has been locked."
"For at least two weeks that I know of."
"Do you share this house equally on the deed?"
"Yes."
"Then the contents of that room belong equally to you.
If he refuses to open it, we can address that." She leaned forward slightly.
"Chloe, I want to be direct with you.
If a family attorney has already drafted preliminary documents, they have had time to build a picture of your assets that favors your husband.
We need to build ours."
"How long does that take?"
"If you get me the statements today and we can establish a financial baseline, I can have a preliminary review completed by end of next week." She paused.
"I also want the name of the man who visited Megan's house.
Can Zoe describe him?"
"I can ask her."
"Do it today if possible.
Quietly." She wrote something on the pad.
"One more thing.
Do not confront your husband again before we have more information.
Don't give him the chance to move anything or to warn his attorney that you've retained counsel."
I thought about last night.
The careful voice at the bathroom door.
*You coming to bed?*
"He already knows I'm suspicious," I said.
"Suspicious is different from prepared." She looked at me steadily.
"Right now you are prepared and he doesn't know it.
Keep it that way as long as you can."
I drove home with the travel cup empty and both hands on the wheel.
When I pulled into the driveway, Mark's car was still there.
He should have left for work an hour ago.
I sat in the car for a moment.
Then I went inside.
Mark was standing in the kitchen in his coat, keys in hand, like he'd been about to leave and had stopped.
He looked up when I came through the door.
"Where did you go?"
"Errands." I set my bag on the counter.
"I thought you'd be at the office."
"I took a late start." He was watching me.
"Chloe, I want to talk about last night."
"I'm listening."
"I know things have been tense.
I know Megan overstepped with Lily and I should have said something in the moment.
I should have." He looked down at his keys.
"I want to fix things between us."
It was a good speech.
It almost sounded like he meant it.
"Unlock the office," I said.
His expression shifted.
Just barely.
"Chloe —"
"If you want to fix things, start there.
Unlock the office, sit down with me, and tell me what papers Megan wants you to sign." I held his gaze.
"That's where we start."
He said nothing for a long moment.
Then he picked up his keys and walked to the front door.
"I'll be home by six," he said.
And left.
I waited until his car reached the end of the street.
Then I went to my phone and texted Zoe.
*I need you to describe the man who came to your house.
Anything you remember.
Today if you can.*
Her reply came in four minutes.
*Tall.
Gray suit.
Bald on top.
He had a tattoo on his left wrist.
I remember because it looked out of place with the suit.
It was a small anchor.*
May you like
I forwarded it to Carol Vance.
By noon, she had a name.
