Chapter 15: Every Note

Jasper's POV

Roz sent me the text from Spencer at four in the afternoon, with no words around it.

Just the screenshot.

I read it standing in the hotel corridor where she had asked me to put her up, two floors below mine, under the name of her cat.

Wear the dress. Or I'll tell the whole city what your husband really did to buy you.

I knew exactly what he meant.

He meant the notes.

Forty pages of Gerald Abbott's signature that I had been quietly collecting for two years, in a drawer, in the dark.

He meant to say it in public, in a church, in front of her, so that it would sound like what she had called it in my study.

Collecting.

I knocked on her door.

She opened it with her hair in a clip and a pencil behind her ear.

She had been sketching on hotel stationery.

"You saw it," she said.

"I saw it."

"What does he have?"

"The truth. Told ugly."

"Then tell me the truth first. Now."

"I already did."

"All of it."

"All of it that's mine to tell." I held her eyes. "There's a way to take the weapon out of his hand."

"How?"

"Let me do it tonight. You don't have to come."

She studied me.

Then she said, "Go."

I drove to Gerald Abbott's house in the rain.

The doorman knew me by now.

Gerald met me in the front hall in his shirtsleeves, with a tumbler in his hand, and Grayson hovering at the foot of the stairs.

"You have a nerve," Gerald said.

"I have a briefcase."

I opened it on the hall table beside a vase of white lilies.

The black folder.

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