He Massaged My Legs While Marrying Another Woman novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: The Report

Knox hands Lydia the police report that names her as the driver, and Preston turns up at the hotel desk with a threat.

"Show me," I said.

Knox didn't ask what I meant.

He held the elevator, then walked beside my chair down a service corridor to a door marked Private.

His office had a desk, a window over the loading dock, and nothing on the walls.

He opened the bottom drawer and took out a folded stack of paper gone soft at the creases.

"I've read it more times than I can count," he said. "Read it yourself."

I unfolded the first page on my knees.

Vehicle One. Driver: Aldous, Lydia G.

Vehicle Two. Driver: Hartigan, Theodore J. Deceased at the scene.

My hands began to shake, so I pressed them flat on the paper.

The report said I crossed the center line at sixty-one miles an hour in a forty-five zone.

It said the road was wet and I did not brake.

At the bottom was a short statement.

Passenger Preston Aldous, treated for a cut hand and released. Reports his wife took the wheel after a dinner and ignored his warnings to slow down.

I read that line three times.

"I don't remember any of it," I said.

"That's convenient."

"I'm not lying to you." My voice cracked. "He told me the other car lost a fender. He told me the insurance paid."

Knox took a second sheet out of the drawer and set it on top of the first.

"This is the settlement my family received. Two million dollars, from the Conwell family trust."

At the bottom of the page was a signature.

L. Conwell Aldous.

It was mine. I knew the loop on the L.

"I never saw this," I said.

"Then why is your name on it?"

I thought of the stack of forms in August, and the pen Preston had put in my hand, and his warm voice saying, Just the last line, Lyd. Just sign where I've marked.

"I sign what he puts in front of me," I said. "I have for six months."

Knox looked at me for a long moment.

Then he went to the window and stood with his back to me.

"You didn't come to the funeral," he said.

"I didn't know there was one."

"Everyone knew there was one."

"I was in a rehab bed learning to sit up," I said. "Preston told me the other driver was fine."

His shoulders did not move.

I folded the report and held it out.

"I'll pay you," I said. "Whatever I have. The shares. The house. Tell me what it costs."

"Your husband already paid."

"With my money."

"With your signature," Knox said, turning around. "Which you say you didn't give."

"I want to see where he's buried."

"No."

"Please."

"No, Mrs. Aldous." His voice stayed flat. "You don't get to stand at my brother's grave until I know what you remember."

"I remember nothing."

"Then we have a problem."

He pressed a button on his desk phone.

"Put Mrs. Aldous in the accessible suite on seven," he said. "Charge it to me."

I stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not letting you out of my sight," Knox said. "Not until I understand why my brother is dead and you're sitting in my office saying you never knew."

He did not say it kindly.

I took the report with me anyway.

At the lobby elevator I stopped, because I could hear a voice I knew.

"My wife is unwell. I'm only here to take her home."

Preston stood at the front desk with a folded coat over his arm.

Skylar stood beside him, her bracelet catching the light.

The desk clerk looked at me, then at them, and asked me with her eyes if I wanted to be rescued.

"Lyd." Preston turned with open arms and a worried face. "There you are. Thank God."

He crossed the lobby and knelt beside my chair.

His voice dropped so nobody else could hear.

"Listen to me. You cancelled my card in front of thirty people."

"It's my card."

"Come home tonight. Sign the new power of attorney. We'll tell everyone you were confused."

"And if I don't?"

"Then Monday morning I go to the board and tell them you killed a man on Route 9." He smiled at me, warmly. "The insurer will want to know who was driving. So will the Hartigans' lawyer. They'll take the trust to pay for it, and your father's company with it."

I looked at his hands, still resting on my armrests.

Those hands had rubbed my legs that morning.

"You said it was only a fender," I said.

"I said what you needed to hear." He patted my knee. "You can't even get to the bathroom without me, Lyd. Who do you think you're going to call?"

Behind him, the elevator opened.

Knox stood in it, with his hand on the door, and listened to every word.

I let go of the armrest, put both hands on the push rims, and rolled back until Preston's fingers fell away.

"Tell them," I said. "Tell the board, tell the insurer, tell anyone you want."

His smile stayed in place.

"You'll be calling me tonight," he said.

I rolled into the elevator and the doors closed on his face.

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