“The deposit on Savannah’s car.”
Savannah’s eyes widened.
Apparently, that detail had not been part of her victory speech.
Grant’s voice hardened.
“It was marital property.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Which car?”
Savannah glanced toward the detached garage.
A white Aston Martin sat inside.
The license plate frame still carried the dealership’s temporary tag.
Evelyn walked through the rain toward it.
Grant followed.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking at my replacement.”
“Don’t be childish.”
Evelyn stopped beside the Aston Martin.
Water ran down her hair and along the back of her neck.
She looked through the window.
Cream leather.
Red stitching.
A pair of Savannah’s sunglasses in the console.
Then she examined the temporary registration taped inside the windshield.
The purchaser’s name was not Grant Harper.
It was Harper Maritime Holdings.
Grant had used company funds.
Not marital funds.
Company funds.
He had purchased a one-hundred-and-eighty-thousand-dollar vehicle for his mistress while Harper Maritime delayed vendor payments and claimed it lacked cash to restore employee retirement contributions.
A small payoff.
The first.
Evelyn took out her phone and photographed the registration.
Grant reached for her wrist.
She moved before he touched her.
“Delete that.”
“No.”
“It’s company business.”
“Yes,” Evelyn said. “It is.”
Thunder rolled above the estate.
Grant stepped closer.
His expression changed.
The charming executive disappeared.
This was the Grant Evelyn knew from locked offices, slammed cabinet doors, and conversations that ended when she entered a room.
“You signed the papers,” he said quietly. “Do not make this ugly.”
“You traded my car for an Aston Martin purchased through a struggling company.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I understand the registration.”
“Delete the photograph.”
Savannah called from the portico.
“Grant, let her go. She’s upset.”
Her tone was sweet enough to rot teeth.
Evelyn looked past him.
Savannah wore Evelyn’s diamond pendant.
She stood in Evelyn’s doorway.
And she was holding a glass of wine in the same hand she kept placing over her supposedly eleven-week pregnancy.
Evelyn smiled.
It was not a warm smile.
Savannah’s sweetness faltered.
Grant lowered his voice.
“You are going to walk away with sixty thousand dollars. That is more money than you had when I met you.”
“That part is true.”
“I gave you everything.”
Evelyn glanced at the mansion.
“You gave me an address.”
He stared at her.
“You think you built this family?”
“No.”
She lifted her suitcase upright.
“I think I kept it from collapsing.”
Grant laughed.
The sound followed her into the rain.
She walked down the driveway pulling one suitcase and carrying the other, the broken wheel scraping against wet stone.
No one offered to drive her.
No one brought an umbrella.
No one asked how she would get to town.
The estate gates stood nearly half a mile away.
Evelyn did not look back.
At the end of the driveway, a black sedan waited beneath the trees.
Its headlights turned on.
The rear door opened.
Nathaniel Reeves stepped out holding a large umbrella.
He was in his late fifties, lean, composed, with iron-gray hair and the patient expression of a man who billed by the hour and never wasted a word.
He looked at the suitcases.
Then at the mansion.
“Mrs. Harper,” he said, “I believe our conversation has become more urgent.”
Evelyn stopped beneath the umbrella.
“Were you following me?”
“Protecting the estate’s beneficiary.”
“I did not agree to protection.”
“Mr. Voss expected you might say that.”
Rainwater dripped from Evelyn’s sleeves.
Nathaniel removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders.
“I have a hotel suite reserved in Manhattan. Your security detail can retrieve your remaining property tomorrow.”
“No.”
He studied her.
“My mother’s cedar box is inside that house.”
“Then we will retrieve that first.”
“They changed the safe code.”
Nathaniel’s expression did not move.
“Mrs. Harper, as of nine o’clock this morning, Voss Meridian became obligated to preserve all potential evidence connected to the August Voss estate. Harper Maritime is a controlled subsidiary. If company records or protected personal property are being withheld on premises partly secured through corporate collateral, we can move quickly.”
Evelyn looked back at the distant glow of the mansion.
Grant had returned to the dining room.
He believed the night was over.
He believed she was gone.
“Not tonight,” she said.
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
“They expect me to react emotionally. I would rather they sleep well.”
“For what purpose?”
“So they wake careless.”
For the first time, Nathaniel smiled.