Chapter 10
I didn't sleep at the house that night. I hadn't for three nights, but this was the first time I'd said it out loud in front of a room full of people.
Heller drove us back to Mara's apartment on Bay Street. It was a second-floor walk-up above a laundry, nothing like the house on the bluff. Mara had put clean sheets on the couch for me and left the bedroom for me, but I told her I'd take the couch. I didn't want to be behind a closed door. I wanted to hear the street.
Cho walked us up and checked the locks. "He won't come here tonight," she said. "He's at the hotel with Keller. But call dispatch if anyone knocks."
After she left, Mara hung my trench coat on the back of the kitchen chair. The straps of the harness were folded in an evidence bag on the counter. I kept looking at it.
"Do you want tea?" Mara asked.
"No," I said. "I want to know if Heller can actually stop him before Monday."
She sat across from me. "She will. She logged the gala recording while we were in the car."
My phone lit up. Richard. Then again. Then a text: Amelia please come home we need to talk without lawyers. I love you and the baby.
I didn't answer. Mara took the phone and set it face down.
At 7 a.m. Heller called. "We're filing at eight-thirty when the clerk opens. Emergency motion to freeze any transfer of your shares. I'm attaching the audio from the fall and the gala threat. Judge Nolan's on duty. He knows Cho's unit."
"What do you need from me?" I asked.
"Signature and your ID. Meet me at the courthouse annex. Bring Mara. Don't go near the house."
The county courthouse was a low brick building with a metal detector that beeped at my belt. The clerk stamped our motion at 8:42. Heller had a binder with three tabs: the certified copy of the original operating agreement, the empty amendment folder photo, and a transcript of my recorder verbatim — You should have trusted me with everything. You really thought I didn't know? What happens to your shares if something happens to you?
Judge Nolan saw us at 10:15 in chambers. He was in his sixties, reading glasses, no robe. He listened to thirty seconds of the fall audio on Heller's laptop. He didn't flinch, but his jaw tightened.
"This was recorded while you were falling?" he asked me.
"Yes," I said. "The recorder was in my trench coat pocket. It's been continuous."
He signed the order. Temporary restraining order, share registry freeze, no amendments filed or voted until a full hearing in fourteen days. The clerk was instructed to reject any filing from Richard or Keller that purported to have my consent.
Outside, Heller handed me the certified copy. "He can't move the shares on Monday now. If he tries, it's contempt."
Mara hugged me in the hallway. For the first time since the helicopter, I felt my shoulders drop.
My phone buzzed again. Private number. I let it go to voicemail. A minute later a text from Keller: We received the TRO. Client requests you collect personal items by appointment only.
I looked at Heller. "I don't want to go back."
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"You don't have to," she said. "That's the point of the safe house. You stay at Mara's until detectives clear you to return with an escort. And we get the pilot."
That night I stayed again on Mara's couch. I put my hand on my belly and felt a small shift, low and steady. The baby had a heartbeat at Harbor General, and it had it still. I didn't play Richard's voicemail.
