Chapter 19: The Twenty Million

She came on Sunday at noon, alone, in a camel coat and flat shoes, with a small gray flash drive held in both hands.

I let her into the kitchen myself.

My father had gone to church, and Teddy was still asleep upstairs with a pillow on his face.

The woman I had known since kindergarten sat down at the table and did not take off her coat.

"I used to come to this house for birthday cakes," she said. "Your mother made them in the shape of animals."

"A rabbit, in your case."

"You remember."

"I remember everything. That's the trouble."

She laughed, and it turned into something wet.

She put the flash drive on the table between us and pushed it a few inches toward me.

"This is three years of my husband's email," she said. "Every message he sent about the Delacourts, the guarantee, and your father's name."

"He was in on it?"

"He was in on all of it."

Her fingers shook against the wood.

"Regina offered him a fee to call the guarantee early. A very large one. She promised he'd have the Point at the sale."

"He's going to buy my mother's house for his fund, and give Regina a share when you marry Preston into your trust."

"That's the plan."

"And you knew."

"I found out on the night of the gala," she said.

"I turned to the wall because I couldn't look at you."

"I wasn't brave, Ainsley. I was ashamed."

"Why bring it to me now?"

"Because last night you stood up in front of the whole Society and said you were keeping the books," she said.

"And I thought, I'm in them."

I looked at the little gray drive.

It would end the Delacourts in a week.

It would put her husband in a federal courtroom, and his partners, and the fund, and her house, and her children's names in the paper.

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