Chapter 3 - Ernest'S Last Accounting
By noon, Austin had canceled the Bahamas trip.
I did not know whether he did it because of the lender, the police visit, or the possibility that his father had left more evidence behind.
Chloe blamed me anyway.
She sent a message that began with the words I hope you're happy.
I deleted it without reading the rest.
Then she sent another.
Emma has been crying because you ruined our vacation.
That one I read twice.
Emma was my eight-year-old granddaughter.
Using her as a weapon was new, even for Chloe.
I called Celia before anger could make me answer.
"Can I call Emma?"
"Of course."
"Will that hurt anything?"
"No."
"What if Chloe records me?"
"Assume she will."
I hated that advice because it was sensible.
I called my granddaughter through her tablet.
Emma answered on the fourth ring.
Her brown hair was tangled around her face.
"Grandma?"
The sound of her voice nearly broke me.
"Hi, sweetheart."
"Are you on the big boat?"
"I am."
"Mom said you made us stay home."
There it was.
Clean and poisonous.
I kept my voice steady.
"Your mom and dad had some grown-up things to take care of."
"Are you mad at Daddy?"
I looked at the brass key on my desk.
"I'm sad about some choices he made."
Emma frowned.
"He yelled at Mom."
"I'm sorry you heard that."
"She yelled too."
"I'm sorry you heard that too."
She leaned closer to the screen.
"Are you coming back?"
For one terrible second, I wanted to say yes.
I wanted to get off the ship, go home, make grilled cheese, and pretend paperwork could not destroy people.
Instead, I said the truth.
"Not yet."
"For how long?"
"A while."
"A long while?"
"Yes."
Her eyes filled with tears.
I felt my resolve crack.
Then a shadow moved behind her.
Chloe appeared in the doorway.
"Emma, homework."
Emma turned.
"I'm talking to Grandma."
"I can see that."
Chloe looked directly into the camera.
Her expression was controlled.
Too controlled.
"Say goodbye."
"But—"
"Now."
Emma looked back at me.
"Bye, Grandma."
"I love you."
"Love you too."
The call ended.
Thirty seconds later, Chloe called from her own phone.
I answered because Celia had told me not to avoid documented communication if I could stay calm.
"What?"
Chloe did not bother with hello.
"Do not drag Emma into this."
I almost admired the audacity.
"You told her I ruined the vacation."
"You did."
"You used her to send me a message."
"I told my daughter the truth."
"No."
I looked through the cabin window at the horizon.
"You told a child the version most useful to you."
Chloe laughed softly.
"You really think that cruise makes you brave, don't you?"
"No."
"Then what changed?"
The answer came easily.
"Your father-in-law died."
Silence.
I continued.
"And I finally noticed how much of my life I spent trying to keep everyone comfortable while I disappeared."
"This is not about comfort."
"You're right."
"This is about you letting a lawyer convince you Austin is some criminal."
"Did he open a loan against my house?"
"Your house was collateral for family money."
My pulse jumped.
"Family money?"
Chloe stopped.
I sat straighter.
"Interesting choice of words."
"Don't twist what I said."
"I didn't have to."
"Austin said Ernest agreed."
"Did Ernest tell you that?"
"He didn't tell me he objected."
"That is not the same thing."
"You were there all the time."
"Yes."
"So how could this happen without you knowing?"
The question was meant to shame me.
It almost worked.
Then I remembered Celia's voice.
You were caring for a dying husband.
"Because people I trusted hid it from me."
Chloe went quiet.
I heard movement on her end.
Maybe a door closing.
"Theresa, listen to me."
Her voice softened suddenly.
That frightened me more than the shouting.
"Austin made mistakes."
"Plural?"
"Don't be cute."
"I'm not."
"He was under pressure."
"From whom?"
"Work."
"He told us work was going well."
"It wasn't."
"Then why didn't he ask for help?"
Chloe gave a small, bitter laugh.
"Because asking you for help always came with a speech."
I stared at the wall.
I had given them fourteen thousand dollars when Austin was unemployed.
I had never asked for repayment.
I had paid half of Emma's preschool tuition for two years.
I had never mentioned it again.
I had watched their baby for free while they took a five-day anniversary trip.
Apparently, my speeches had been very expensive.
"What exactly are you asking me to do, Chloe?"
"Tell your lawyer to stop."
"Stop what?"
"The lender investigation."
"I don't control the lender."
"Then withdraw your complaint."
"I didn't file a criminal complaint."
"Yet."
Her voice changed on that word.
I heard fear.
Real fear.
"What are you afraid they will find?"
"Nothing."
Too fast.
"Then why are you afraid?"
"I'm not."
"Chloe."
"I have to go."
"Did you know about the twenty-seven thousand dollars sent to your joint account with your mother?"
The line went silent.
I heard one breath.
Then two.
"Who told you that?"
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
Not what money?
Not what account?
Who told you?
"Goodbye, Chloe."
"Theresa—"
I ended the call.
Celia called twenty minutes later.
"You need to write down exactly what she said."
"Already doing it."
"Good."
"She knew about the transfer."
"It sounds like she did."
"Can we get the money back?"
"Maybe."
"That is becoming my least favorite word."
"Lawyers love it."
I could hear traffic behind her.
"Where are you?"
"On my way back from the bank."
I looked at the brass key again.
"You got into the box?"
"Yes."
"Without my key?"
"The bank had the estate's access authorization on file, and I am listed as a co-access agent for document retrieval only."
"Then why did Ernest hide the key?"
"I think the key was meant for you symbolically."
"Ernest was sentimental about strange things."
"There is more than symbolism in the box."
I stopped writing.
"What did you find?"
"A ledger."
"Handwritten?"
"Yes."
"By Ernest?"
"Yes."
I could picture it immediately.
My husband trusted computers for weather forecasts and baseball scores.
For money, he trusted blue ink and columns.
"What is in it?"
"Dates."
"Of what?"
"Every conversation he had with Austin about money during the last ten months."
My throat tightened.
"He documented him?"
"Very carefully."
"Why didn't I see the ledger?"
"It wasn't kept at the house."
"What else?"
"A USB drive."
"What's on it?"
"I haven't opened it."
"Why not?"
"Because I wanted a forensic copy made first."
I smiled despite myself.
"You really are a lawyer."
"I have been accused of it."
"Anything else?"
"Three sealed envelopes."
"For whom?"
"One for you."
My breath caught.
"One for Austin."
"Another one?"
"Yes."
"And the third?"
Celia went quiet.
"Chloe."
I stood up.
"He wrote to Chloe?"
"Her name is on the envelope."
"Can you open mine?"
"Not without your permission."
"You have it."
"Are you sure?"
I looked at Ernest's perfume bottle.
"Read it."
Paper crackled on the other end.
Then Celia began.
"Theresa, if you are hearing this from Celia, then I am gone, and you are probably angry with me."
A laugh escaped me through tears.
"Correct."
Celia continued.
"I hid more from you than I should have because I wanted your last months with me to be about us, not about cleaning up Austin's mess."
I covered my mouth.
"I am sorry for that."
My eyes burned.
"I also know you."
I could hear Ernest's voice inside every word.
"You will try to rescue him before you rescue yourself."
I sat down again.
"Please don't."
The cabin blurred.
"Make him tell the truth before you offer mercy."
Celia stopped.
I wiped my face.
"Keep going."
"There is a second property you do not know about."
My tears stopped.
"What?"
Celia read the sentence again.
"There is a second property you do not know about."
I stared at nothing.
"Ernest and I did not own another property."
"The letter says you didn't."
"Then what does he mean?"
"I'm reading."
Celia continued.
"It is not ours."
My pulse quickened.
"It was purchased using money that should never have left our home."
I stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor.
"Celia."
"I know."
"Where?"
"The letter doesn't say."
"Then what does it say?"
"It says the address is on the USB drive."
I walked in a small circle.
"Open the drive."
"After the forensic copy."
"How long?"
"A few hours."
I hated waiting.
Grief had taught me that waiting was just fear with a clock attached.
"There is one more thing in your letter," Celia said.
"What?"
"Ernest wrote, 'Do not assume Austin bought it.'"
I stopped walking.
"Then who did?"
"That's all the letter says."
My phone buzzed.
Another message from Chloe.
This one contained only a photograph.
It showed a white stucco house with blue shutters.
Palm trees stood along a narrow driveway.
At the bottom of the image was a real-estate listing screen.
SOLD.
I enlarged the picture.
The address was in Fort Lauderdale.
Then Chloe sent one sentence.
Since you're digging, you might as well know everything.
May you like
Before I could answer, a second message arrived.
Ask Austin whose name is on the deed.
