Chapter 23: Fish

Tate ran.

He went for the corridor door with his binder under his arm, and Rafe stepped into it and did not move.

"Get out of my way," Tate said.

"No."

"Rafe. I'll give you the money. All of it."

"I know," Rafe said. "I heard you offer it. Twice."

The two detectives came in on either side of him.

One of them took the binder from his arm, and the other took his wrist.

Tate Burrell had never once in six years raised his voice to me.

He shouted my name.

"Greer! Tell them it's a misunderstanding! Honey!"

I did not answer him.

I watched the cuffs close, and I felt nothing at all, which surprised me.

The directors stood in a row along the table, and nobody spoke.

One of the dealers had his phone raised, and the old man in the wheelchair slapped it down.

"Let the girl have her morning," he said.

The second detective turned to Valeria.

She was still sitting in her chair with the phone in her hand and the message on the wall above her.

"Ms. Harmon," he said. "We'd like you to come with us."

She stood up.

She smoothed her cardigan, the soft green one I had given her.

She held out her wrists before anyone asked.

She was almost at the door when she stopped in front of Rafe.

"Harmon Ventures banks in Delaware," she said. "The account ends in 4417. It has everything, to the dollar. I was always going to give it to you."

"Were you."

"Believe it or don't. That part was true."

He said nothing.

She turned her head and looked at me.

For thirteen years I had known that face and had never once seen it empty.

"I liked you," she said. "I liked you the whole time."

"I know," I said. "That's the worst part."

Her mouth moved.

Then the detective touched her elbow.

She went out into the corridor, under all the framed photographs of my father's beds.

By noon the board had voted seven to nothing.

By three, my lawyer had a freeze on the Delaware account.

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