Chapter 6: The Man Who Was Already Looking
I called David Reeves back from the car outside Margaret's house.
He answered on the second ring.
"Mrs.
Carter.
Thank you for returning my call."
"Who retained you?" I asked.
"I'm not able to share that at this stage," he said.
"What I can tell you is that our inquiry is focused on financial activity connected to Purely Vanessa LLC, and that your name appeared on several documents we've been reviewing."
"As the victim or the suspect?"
A brief pause.
"As the account holder from which funds were drawn without evidence of your authorization."
"Someone complained about the LLC," I said.
"Someone other than me."
"A complaint was filed, yes."
"When?"
"Six weeks ago."
I sat with that for a moment.
Six weeks ago, I had still been making dinners and paying school fees and telling myself things would get better.
"What do you need from me?" I asked.
"Access to your transaction records.
A signed statement confirming you did not authorize the transfers.
And ideally, any communication — text, email, voicemail — in which either Nathan Carter or Vanessa Carter reference the account or the funds."
I thought about Vanessa's text.
*You don't want to take this further.
Trust me.*
"I have a text from Vanessa sent last night," I said.
"Yes or no — does it reference the transfers or suggest she's aware of what you may have discovered?"
"It tells me not to take things further.
It says to trust her."
Another pause, longer this time.
"Mrs.
Carter, I'd like to meet with you and your attorney together.
Can you arrange that?"
I called Patricia's office from the car.
Her assistant picked up and fit us in for the following morning.
I drove back to Claire's house.
That evening, Nathan showed up.
He knocked once.
Claire opened the door and blocked it with her shoulder.
"I need to talk to Emily," he said.
"Emily's busy," Claire said.
"Claire, this doesn't involve you."
"She's in my house, Nathan.
It involves me."
I came to the door.
I stood behind Claire and looked at my husband of twelve years.
He was wearing the jacket he always wore on weekends, the grey one with the worn collar.
He looked like he hadn't slept.
"Come outside," he said to me.
"Just for a minute."
"Say what you need to say here."
He glanced at Claire.
"Please."
"Here," I said again.
He exhaled.
"Emily, I know you're angry.
I understand that.
Last night was —"
"Don't explain last night."
"I just need you to stop what you've set in motion.
We can talk about all of it.
The account, everything.
I can explain."
"You can explain forty-eight thousand dollars transferred to your sister's LLC without my knowledge or consent?"
His face shifted.
Something moved behind his eyes that wasn't regret.
It was calculation.
"My mother told you," he said.
His voice had gone flat.
"Your mother told me what you should have told me two years ago."
He was quiet for a moment.
When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
"Emily, if you push this legally, it gets ugly for everyone.
Including the kids.
Including you.
I need you to think about what you're doing."
Claire's hand found the edge of the door.
"Are you threatening her?" she said.
"I'm being realistic."
"Nathan," I said, "my lawyer will be in contact with yours."
I stepped back.
Claire closed the door.
We stood in the hallway listening to his footsteps on the porch.
The gate latch.
The car door.
The engine pulling away.
Cora was standing at the end of the hallway in her pyjamas.
"Was that Daddy?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Is he coming back?"
I walked to her and crouched down to her level.
"Not tonight," I said.
"But he's okay.
And you're okay.
And I'm right here."
She looked at me for a moment with her father's eyes and her own steady expression.
"Okay," she said.
And went back to bed.
I stood up and leaned against the wall.
Claire came to stand beside me.
"He's scared," she said.
"I know."
"Scared people do stupid things."
"I know that too."
My phone buzzed.
A text from a number I didn't have saved.
*"Back off, Emily.
You have no idea what you're stepping into.
This is bigger than a sl@p at a dinner table.
Walk away while you still can."*
I showed it to Claire.
She read it twice.
"Vanessa?"
May you like
"Unknown number." I forwarded it immediately to Patricia and to David Reeves.
"But only two people in the world would send that tonight."
