“And Marcus?”
“Marcus gave his statement this morning.
He was cooperative and specific.
Daniel’s call, the time, the exact words.” A pause.
“Daniel’s lawyer knows about Marcus.
He tried to argue the note was coerced, but that’s not going anywhere — Chloe wrote it before the crash, not after.”
I looked at the kitchen.
The pie was still on the rack.
I hadn’t moved it.
“Patricia.
Will he be charged?”
“Reyes believes so.
Obstruction of justice is certain — he directed a false police statement.
Vehicular manslaughter is likely, depending on the reconstruction.
Possibly more, if the push can be established.” Her voice softened slightly.
“Ellen.
This is going to take time.
But it’s moving.”
He was released that evening on his own recognizance, pending formal charges.
He did not come home.
He went to his lawyer’s house, according to a message he sent me at 9 p.m.
— brief, cold, no apology.
*Staying at Ray’s.
Don’t contact me.*
I read it once and set the phone face-down.
Ava was on the couch, her knees pulled up, watching nothing in particular on the television.
I sat in the armchair across from her.
“He’s not coming back tonight,” I said.
She nodded slowly.
“Is he going to try to make this go away?”
“He’s going to try,” I said.
“His lawyer will look for every angle.
He’ll try to discredit you.
He’ll try to discredit Marcus.
He may try to make me look unstable.” I looked at her directly.
“Are you prepared for that?”
“I’ve been preparing for it for five years,” she said.
“Every time I sat across from him at dinner, I was preparing for it.”
I believed her.
Three days later, Daniel’s lawyer sent a formal letter through Patricia.
It was addressed to me.
It offered a private settlement.
No admission of wrongdoing.
A sum of money.
In exchange, Ava would recant her statement and I would withdraw my cooperation with the investigation.
I read it at Patricia’s office.
When I finished, I set it on her desk.
“No,” I said.
Patricia picked up her pen.
“I’ll draft the response.”
“Make it short,” I said.
She almost smiled.
