Chapter 9: Nine Thursdays

Jo's POV

I knocked on his private door at nine on Monday night, and I didn't wait to be asked in.

Nolan opened it in shirtsleeves with his tie pulled loose.

He looked like he hadn't slept since Sunday.

"Show me," I said.

"Jo."

"The folder. Whatever you wrote down. Show me all of it."

He stepped back and let me in.

The folder sat on the kitchen counter, a black binder with a rubber band around it.

He had taken it out before I even knocked.

I snapped the band off.

Inside, every Thursday had its own page.

Each page listed the date, the time Trevor's truck pulled into the hotel garage, and the time Bianca's car followed.

At the bottom of each page was the time they left.

There were nine pages.

Clipped to week four was a photocopy of a cashier's check for ninety thousand dollars.

The account name said Estate of Larrabee.

I put my finger on it.

"Week four," I said.

"Yes."

"You had this in week four."

"I had it, and I didn't know whose money it was." His voice was very even. "I found out at week six."

"That's three weeks."

"Yes."

"Three weeks of watching him walk into that hotel with my father's money in his pocket."

"I wanted the whole picture before I moved. If I'd moved sooner, he'd have known. You'd have been the one to lose."

"That wasn't your decision to make."

"No."

"You don't get to say no like it's an apology."

He didn't answer.

I could hear the harbor through the glass, the soft clank of rigging on boats.

"I'm sorry," Nolan said at last. "I should have told you at week six."

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