Chapter 16: Fifteen Years of Trust

The Hartwell ballroom had three hundred guests, a string quartet and an ice sculpture of the Dunleavy Wealth logo.

I walked in on Thane's arm in a green dress Bernie had pressed herself.

Heads turned all the way down the room.

I had spent a week as the woman everyone whispered about, and tonight I let them look.

Trevor met us at the foot of the stairs with a glass of champagne.

"Babe," he said, and kissed my cheek for the crowd. "You look wonderful. Rayburn, I'm glad you could come."

Thane did not answer him.

"Don't spoil my night," Trevor said, still smiling. "There are people here who need to see us at peace."

He steered me through the room with his hand at my back.

The white-haired couple from his office waved from a front table.

The Marwick finance chief sat two tables behind them with her arms folded and her eyes on Trevor.

At a corner table, a woman in a plain black suit stirred her coffee and did not look up.

I knew the detective's shoulders by now.

At nine, Trevor took the stage.

"Fifteen years," he said into the microphone, and the room went quiet. "Fifteen years of your trust."

"Many of you know my wife has been unwell. I want to say publicly that I forgive her."

A hush fell over the tables.

I felt every eye turn to me.

"She's confused about some paperwork," Trevor said gently.

"So tonight, in front of friends who love us, I'd like her to put it behind us."

He held up a folder.

"Nadine, come up here. Sign, and we go home."

My legs wanted to shake, so I walked.

I climbed the three steps in my heels with Thane one pace behind me, and Trevor put the folder in my hands.