Chapter 12
The ambulance hadn't moved. Its back doors were open and the red lights kept turning even though we weren't going anywhere. I could hear the beep of the monitor inside and the paramedic's voice saying numbers to her partner. Elena sat on the edge of the stretcher with a blanket over her shoulders, not lying down. Her wrists were wrapped in gauze. She kept looking at me like she needed to check I was still there every few seconds.
The deputy stood by the garage with his hand on Hargrove's elbow. Hargrove was in cuffs now, leaning against the patrol car, and he wasn't talking anymore. The old man in the navy suit stood a few feet from the ambulance, not close enough to touch us, his burgundy tie crooked and his silver watch catching the light. He was breathing hard through his mouth.
The paramedic, a woman with short hair and a navy uniform, knelt in front of Elena with a clipboard. "Ma'am, can you tell me what happened here? Did this man hold you against your will?"
Elena nodded. Her voice was hoarse. "He did. James Hargrove. I clean his office. At the foundation building." She swallowed and looked at the old man. "Last week I found checks. Donor checks made out to the foundation, but they were going into a different account. His account. I took photos. I told him I was going to report it to the board."
The paramedic glanced up. The deputy took a step closer, pen out.
"I told him Thursday night," Elena said. "He said I misunderstood. He said if I went to the board I'd lose my job and no one would believe me. I said I was going to tell the board chair anyway. Friday morning he came to my apartment. He said he needed to talk. Then he..." She stopped and pulled the blanket tighter. Her hands shook. "He taped my wrists. Put me in his garage. Said I'd stay there until I deleted the photos and signed a letter saying I lied."
I felt my jaw lock. The garage door was still open behind us and I could see the mattress and the duct tape on the floor where she'd been.
The old man made a small sound. He took off his glasses and put them back on. "Elena Rivera," he said quietly. "You came to me. Last spring."
Elena looked at him for a long time. Her eyes filled. "Yes."
"I was board chair," he said, and he wasn't looking at the paramedic or the deputy, he was looking at her. At us. "You came to the foundation after hours. You said there were irregularities in the expense reports. You had a folder. I didn't open it. I told you Hargrove had been with the foundation for twelve years. I told you to let it go. That you were risking your position."
He said it exactly like that. Let it go.
The paramedic stopped writing.
"I told myself I was keeping the peace," he said. His voice cracked. "I told the interim director not to log your complaint. I did that. No one else followed up because I told them not to."
Elena didn't answer at first. She just breathed. Then she said, "I kept the card because you gave me your business card that day. I wrote my number on the back. I thought if anything happened, my son could find you."
My card. The small worn card with frayed edges I'd held at the cafe. It had been his card all along.
I stepped forward. I hadn't planned what to say, it just came out. I was still holding Elena's hand and my other hand was in a fist.
"You were the only one who could save her because you were the one who didn't," I said to him.
The words hung there. He flinched like I'd hit him. He didn't try to explain it away. He nodded once, slowly.
"You're right," he said.
The deputy shifted his weight. "Sir, do you want to make a statement about that?"
The old man pulled his phone from his suit pocket. His hands were not steady. "I need to call board counsel. Right now. On speaker. So she hears it and you hear it."
He dialed and put it on speaker. It rang twice. A woman answered, crisp. "This is Margaret Chen, general counsel."
"Margaret, it's Thomas Harlow," he said. "I'm at 147 Ridge Road with Sheriff's deputies, paramedics, and Elena Rivera, a foundation employee. I'm on speaker. I'm making a formal admission. Last April, Ms. Rivera brought me evidence of financial misconduct by James Hargrove. As board chair I dismissed her complaint, told her to let it go, and instructed staff not to log it. Ms. Rivera was subsequently abducted by Mr. Hargrove after threatening to report check theft to the board. My prior failure to act enabled this. I'm requesting you open an independent audit immediately, outside my control, and preserve all records related to Hargrove and Ms. Rivera's complaint. Do you understand?"
A pause on the line. Then, "I understand, Mr. Harlow. I'm noting time and parties present. I will initiate an independent audit tonight and notify the governance committee that you have recused from oversight pending review. Ms. Rivera, are you safe right now?"
Elena looked at the phone, then at me. "I'm with my son," she said. "And paramedics."
"Stay on the line," Margaret said. "Deputy, please provide incident number for our file."
The deputy read the number off his notebook. The paramedic closed her clipboard and said softly to Elena, "We're going to take you to St. Mary's to get checked, okay? He can ride with you."
She meant me.
May you like
Elena pulled me up onto the stretcher edge with her, blanket over both our shoulders. The old man stayed by the phone, not reaching for us, waiting outside the ambulance the way he should have waited last year.
"I've got you," Elena whispered to me, and for the first time since the cafe, I let myself breathe.
