Chapter 4: Someone Had Been Talking
I called my attorney before Genevieve reached the top of the stairs.
'I need you here within the hour,' I said.
'And I need everything we have on Marcus Hale.'
Thomas Whitfield had been my attorney for eleven years.
He didn't ask questions when the tone required action.
'I'll be there at ten,' he said.
I hung up and looked at the caregiver.
Her name was Nora.
She had been with us since the boys were three weeks old.
I had hired her through an agency, checked every reference, paid her well, and largely left her to her work.
I realized, standing in that kitchen, that I knew almost nothing about her beyond the fact that my sons trusted her completely.
'Are you all right?' I said.
She set Everett down in his chair and handed him a piece of toast.
Felix she kept on her hip.
'I'm fine.'
'I'm sorry you were put in that position.'
'It wasn't the first time,' she said quietly.
I looked at her.
'What do you mean?'
She kept her eyes on Everett.
'She's done things like this before.
When you weren't home.
Not always that extreme, but — the tone.
The way she speaks to them.
The way she speaks to me.'
'Why didn't you tell me?'
Nora finally looked up.
'I tried once.
About six weeks ago.
I left a note on your desk asking if we could speak privately.' She paused.
'The next morning the note was gone and Miss Genevieve told me that if I ever went to you with complaints about her, she would have me reported to the agency for neglect.'
The folder was still in my hand.
I set it down carefully.
'She threatened your job.'
'Yes.'
'And you stayed anyway.'
'They're eleven months old,' Nora said.
'Where was I going to go?'
I didn't have an answer for that.
I pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table — the same table where Genevieve had been drinking coffee twenty minutes ago, in the same room where she had poured milk over Nora's head and laughed about it.
'I need to ask you something,' I said.
'And I need you to be completely honest.'
'All right.'
'Has she ever touched the boys?'
Nora was quiet for a moment.
Not the quiet of someone deciding whether to lie.
The quiet of someone deciding how much truth to carry into a room.
'She grabbed Everett's arm once,' she said.
'Hard enough that he cried for ten minutes.
She told me it was because he pulled her hair.
He was nine months old.'
Something went very still inside me.
'Did you document it?'
'I took a photo of the bruise.
I have it on my phone.
I've kept everything.' She looked at me steadily.
'I didn't know what else to do.'
Thomas arrived at ten past ten.
He came through the front door, nodded at me, set his briefcase on the dining room table, and opened it without ceremony.
'Tell me everything,' he said.
I told him.
The folder.
The documents.
The forged signature.
The guardian override clause.
Marcus Hale.
The IPO date she shouldn't have known.
Nora's account.
The photograph.
Thomas listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he was quiet for a moment.
'The signature on the transfer document,' he said.
'You're certain it's forged?'
'I've never signed anything like that in my life.'
'Then we have a document fraud issue at minimum.' He picked up the folder and turned to the transfer page.
'Depending on intent, this could reach further.' He looked up.
'Where is she now?'
'Upstairs.'
'Has she left the property?'
'Not yet.'
Thomas closed the folder.
'Don't ask her to leave again.
Not until I've made two calls.' He reached for his phone.
'And Dorian — don't speak to her alone again.
Not once.
Not for any reason.'
I nodded.
He stepped into the hallway.
I heard him dial.
From upstairs came the sound of a suitcase rolling across the floor.
She was already packing.
She had started before I called Thomas.
Before I sat down with Nora.
May you like
Before any of this had moved one step further.
She had been ready to leave before I even asked her to.
