Chapter 5
They discharged me late the next morning with instructions to rest, hydrate, and come back if I had any cramping. A volunteer wheeled me to the entrance where Marris was waiting by her cruiser. She drove me herself because Richard's car was still impounded near the airstrip and I didn't want a rideshare.
The apartment on Alton looked the same from the street. The mailbox was stuffed. The fern on the porch we'd bought at Home Depot was dry.
Richard's shoes were by the door when I opened it. He was at the kitchen counter in a clean gray t-shirt, hands around a mug he wasn't drinking.
"You shouldn't have taken a police escort," he said without turning. "It makes us look like we have something to hide."
I set the plastic bag down on the console table, still holding it. My hospital bracelet was still on my wrist and my hair was pulled back wet.
"I do have something to hide," I said. "You."
He finally turned. He tried the relief smile again. It didn't reach his eyes. "Amelia. Come on. We need to get our story straight before the insurance people call. You were scared. You misremembered. That's not a crime."
"Our story?" I said.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice the way he did when he wanted me to agree in front of other people. "You stepped back too far. The harness — you bought it for that charity skydive thing last year and you were wearing it. It saved you. That's a miracle. We should say that."
I stared at him. The kitchen smelled like coffee that had sat too long.
"I didn't own a harness before last Tuesday," I said. "You know when I bought it."
His smile thinned. "You need to think about what you're doing. You're pregnant. Stress is bad for the baby. Cops will twist things."
"Like shares?" I said.
That stopped him. His hand tightened around the mug.
I walked past him into the office. The second drawer was already open. The folder marked estate was gone. A faint rectangle in the dust showed where it had been.
I didn't say anything at first. I just looked at the empty space and then at him in the doorway.
"Where is it?" I asked.
"My lawyer has it. For safekeeping," he said. "You shouldn't be digging through legal documents you don't understand. That amendment was standard. It protects both of us."
"It protects you if I die," I said.
He moved fast then, not toward me but to the bag on the console. He reached for it. "Let me take care of this. You need to shower. You're still covered in —"
I stepped between him and the bag and picked it up. My voice stayed quiet. "Don't touch it."
We stood there in the narrow hall, breathing. Outside a kid rode past on a bicycle and the chain clicked.
Richard let his hand drop. "You're making a mistake," he said. His voice was flat now, no performance. "You think a deputy from Harbor County is going to untangle a corporate charter? You think anyone will believe you planned this? You fell. I tried to save you. That's what the pilot will say too."
"The pilot wasn't looking at me when you pushed me," I said. "He was looking at the coastline. Just like in the video."
He blinked. Once.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and held it up. The screen showed the voice memo app, the red bar, 02:14.
"I hit record before we lifted off," I said. "It caught everything. Your apology. My question about the shares."
For a second his face did that helicopter thing again — widened eyes, mouth open — then it snapped shut. He swallowed and stepped back.
"Get out," I said.
He didn't argue. He grabbed his keys off the counter, didn't take the mug, and left the front door open behind him. I stood in the hall holding the bag and listening to his car start and pull away down Alton. Then I locked the door, both locks, and slid the chain.
May you like
I sat on the floor with my back against the office wall and called Marris. When she answered I said, "He took the folder. And I have a recording from the helicopter."
She said, "Stay where you are. Don't let anyone in. I'm sending someone over."
