Chapter 4: The Gray Suit In My Driveway
Lily was finally still on the couch. I'd given her the juice box from the fridge and tucked the light blue blanket around her legs, the one she always kicked off. She wasn't asleep, just quiet, staring at the ceiling fan turning above her. I could hear her breathing even from the kitchen doorway, small and even.
Daniel stood at the other end of the kitchen island. He hadn't taken off the gray suit jacket. The white shirt was still open at the collar and I could see the dark ink at his throat, the same tattoos Richard had stared at that afternoon and then dismissed with a look. Daniel's hands were flat on the quartz countertop, careful, like he didn't want to take up too much space.
"You should sit," I said.
He shook his head. "I'm good right here."
Through the sheer curtains over the sink I could see his truck in the driveway, the old dark blue Silverado he'd had since he got out. It was parked crooked behind my Mercedes. Richard had complained about it the first day Daniel showed up.
Daniel wasn't supposed to be here. Not according to Richard. Two weeks ago I'd called him myself, after I watched Richard shove a dining chair so hard it toppled over because Lily wouldn't sit still for his phone call. It hadn't touched her, but she flinched like it had. Richard just righted the chair and said, "She needs to learn to listen when men are speaking."
That night I'd gone into my closet and called Daniel. He was my sister's kid by her first marriage, technically my nephew, though we'd lost touch after his mom and his stepdad split. He'd done two tours with the Marines, then come home and did security jobs, drove for a car service downtown. When I asked if he would drive for the foundation, part-time, just for events, he didn't ask why I wasn't asking Richard first.
"I told Richard you were a recommendation from the gala coordinator," I said quietly now, glancing toward the living room where Lily lay. "That you had experience."
Daniel gave a small, tired smile. "And he bought that?"
"He bought the suit," I said. "You clean up fine, even with... " I gestured lightly at his neck, not sure how to say it.
"The ink?" He touched his collar without thinking. "Most people see it before they see anything else. Your husband definitely did."
That was exactly why I'd wanted him. Richard liked polish, liked control, liked men who looked like they belonged in a foundation tower downtown. Daniel didn't. He was calm in a way that wasn't polished at all. When he walked into a room he didn't fill it with noise. He just stood where he could see the door.
Two weeks ago when he came for the interview, Richard had looked him up and down in that gray suit and said, "You clean up better than I expected." Daniel had just nodded and said, "Yes, sir." He'd kept his eyes on Lily, who had been hiding behind my leg in the hallway, and he had crouched down so he wasn't towering over her.
"I asked you here because I didn't feel safe having just the two of us in the house with him anymore," I said. The words came out lower than I wanted. My hand went to the diamond pendant at my throat without me meaning to. "I didn't know what else to do."
"I know," Daniel said. "You didn't have to explain then and you don't now."
He pulled his phone out of his suit pocket, old iPhone with a cracked corner on the case. He held it face up but didn't unlock it right away.
"When you yelled at him in the hall," he said, "and when he answered you, I hit record. It was already in my hand. I was in the kitchen doorway."
My breath caught. I kept my eyes on Lily. She had turned on her side, hugging her knees up.
"I didn't get video," he went on. "Just audio. It wasn't planned. I just pressed it and put it in my pocket."
He unlocked the phone and held it out enough that I could see the voice memo screen. A single file, 23 seconds long from this afternoon. He didn't play it.
"I can send it to you," he said. "Or I can delete it, if you want me to. It's yours either way. I just didn't want you to be left with only his version of what was said."
For a second I could hear Richard's voice in my head, clear as if he was still in the hallway. You're protecting her? Like it was an accusation, like Daniel stepping forward was the offense and not what Richard had done to Lily.
I nodded. My mouth was dry. "Send it."
He tapped share, then AirDrop. My phone was still on the island where I'd left it after taking that one photo. It lit up. Daniel Reyes would like to share a Voice Memo.
I pressed accept with a thumb that shook a little. The red dress rustled as I shifted. The diamonds felt cold against my skin.
"Got it?" he asked.
I looked at the file appearing in my recordings, the waveform small and gray. "I got it."
He slipped his phone back into his pocket. "I'm not leaving before the gala," he said. "I told the coordinator I'm on until ten. Richard can tell me to go, but I won't be far. I'm parked in the driveway for a reason."
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I wanted to tell him to go, to make everything look normal before the photographer came. I wanted to tell him to stay right where he was. Before I could say either, I heard the click.
Richard's study door opened down the hall.
