Chapter 6: What Dana Knew
I found her in the hotel corridor outside the ballroom, standing near a window that looked out over the city.
She was wearing a gray coat over a dark dress, and she had not been at the gala — she had come here specifically, which meant she had known I would be here, which meant she had been watching the situation closely enough to know when to move.
I stopped six feet from her.
"Claire—"
"Don't," I said.
"Don't start with my name like that."
Dana closed her mouth.
"You have thirty seconds to tell me why you're here before I walk back inside."
She looked at the floor briefly, then back at me.
Whatever she had rehearsed, she abandoned it.
"He's moving money," she said.
"Sawyer.
He's been doing it for four months.
I found out two weeks ago."
I waited.
"He has a secondary brokerage account that isn't in your joint filing.
He's been transferring from the household investment portfolio in amounts small enough not to trigger automatic review.
I don't know the total, but based on what I saw—" She stopped.
"It's significant."
"How do you know this?"
She held my gaze.
"Because he told me about it," she said.
"Not directly.
He thought I was on his side.
He thought I was helping him manage the situation."
"Were you?"
The question sat between us.
"I was confused," she said.
"For a while.
He told me things about your marriage that I now know weren't true.
He told me you'd been unhappy for years.
That you'd both agreed it was over and were just waiting for the right time." She paused.
"I believed him.
I shouldn't have."
"You had my key."
"I know."
"You sat in my kitchen four days ago and asked me if everything was all right."
"I know." Her voice dropped.
"I was trying to figure out if you knew.
I was trying to decide what to do."
"And now you've decided."
"He called me this afternoon," Dana said.
"He told me that if I said anything to you, he would tell people I had been involved in helping him hide the account transfers.
He said he had emails that could be read that way." She looked at me steadily.
"He's trying to use me as insurance."
Sawyer had threatened her.
That was why she was here tonight.
Not guilt alone.
Guilt plus fear, which was a different calculation entirely.
"Do you have proof of the account?" I asked.
"Anything written?"
"I have a screenshot of a statement he showed me in September.
He was careless.
He pulled it up on his phone to show me the balance and I took a picture when he wasn't looking." She reached into her coat pocket and handed me her phone.
The statement was from a brokerage I didn't recognize.
The account was in Sawyer's name alone.
The balance shown was four hundred and twelve thousand dollars.
I handed the phone back.
"Send that to this number." I gave her Patricia Wren's direct line.
"Tonight.
Right now, before you leave this building."
"Claire, I need you to know—"
"I know what you need me to know," I said.
"You made choices and now you're making a different one.
I'm not going to tell you how to feel about that." I looked at her directly.
"But I need that screenshot sent in the next five minutes.
After that, don't contact Sawyer.
Don't respond to him.
If he threatens you again, call Patricia Wren directly.
Her number is in your phone now."
Dana nodded.
Her eyes were bright.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Send the screenshot," I said, and walked back inside.
---
Sawyer was at the bar when I returned.
He saw me come through the ballroom doors and crossed the room toward me with the practiced ease of a man who had decided to control the next five minutes.
"We should talk," he said quietly.
"We should," I agreed.
He glanced around.
"Not here."
"No.
Not here." I met his eyes.
"Monday.
With our attorneys present."
Something moved across his face.
Not fear exactly.
The early edge of it.
"Claire—"
"Eli is at our table waiting for me," I said.
"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Sawyer."
I walked back to table four.
Eli looked up from the last of his dessert.
"Everything okay?"
I sat down.
"Yes," I said.
"Everything is exactly where it needs to be."
He studied me for a moment with those dark, careful eyes.
Then he went back to his dessert.
Across the room, Sawyer stood at the bar alone.
Vanessa was at the head table, talking to someone else.
May you like
She did not look toward him.
He held his drink and did not move for a long time.
