Chapter 4
Ryan refused to tell me who Ashley was.
That told me enough.
Dad wanted to call the police immediately.
Mom wanted everyone to slow down.
I wanted to go to the apartment.
Ryan wanted all of us to disappear.
“You’re not showing up at somebody’s home,” he said.
“Somebody’s?” I repeated. “So now you admit someone lives there?”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“You just said it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Dad looked at him with disgust.
“Do you even hear yourself?”
Ryan grabbed his jacket.
“I’m leaving.”
I stepped in front of him.
He gave me a look that would have frightened me the day before.
It still frightened me.
I just didn’t move.
“Where?” I asked.
“Away from this circus.”
“To Ashley?”
His face tightened.
There it was.
I felt it like another slap.
Dad noticed.
Mom did too.
Ryan saw that we had all seen it.
He cursed under his breath.
“I knew her years ago.”
“How?”
“Through work.”
“What work?”
“Consulting.”
“You don’t work in consulting.”
“I did some projects.”
“When?”
He rubbed his face.
“This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.”
I stared at him.
“You’re blaming me because you hid a woman?”
“I didn’t hide anybody.”
“What’s her last name?”
Silence.
I nodded.
“Right.”
I walked toward the front door.
Ryan grabbed my wrist.
Dad was on him instantly.
“Let go.”
Ryan released me.
Dad pushed his hand away.
I backed up.
My wrist hurt.
Not badly.
But the message was clear.
Ryan still thought he could control where I went.
I called 911.
His eyes widened.
“What are you doing?”
“I want you out of the house.”
“You’re calling the cops on your husband?”
“You hit me.”
His face changed.
For the first time, I think he realized I was serious.
“This is my house too.”
“Then you can explain that to them.”
Mom whispered my name.
I looked at her.
She shook her head.
“Maybe we should keep this private.”
I almost couldn’t believe her.
“Private?”
“Honey, police reports become records.”
“He hit me.”
“I know.”
“And you’re worried about records?”
“I’m worried about everything getting worse.”
“It is already worse.”
Mom looked down.
Dad said, “She’s right.”
Mom turned to him.
“You want your daughter’s marriage destroyed?”
Dad stared at her.
“Ryan did that when he put his hand on her.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Dad turned.
“Of course what?”
“You’ve never liked me.”
“I welcomed you into my family.”
“You looked down on me from the first day.”
“I gave you a job.”
“For six months.”
“You stopped showing up.”
Ryan stepped toward him.
“Because your managers treated me like an idiot.”
“You were twenty-seven and thought you knew more than men who had been building projects for thirty years.”
“This is what I mean.”
Dad shook his head.
“No, Ryan. This is what you do. You turn your choices into someone else’s fault.”
The words hit me hard because that was exactly what Ryan had done to me for years.
Police arrived twelve minutes later.
Two officers came inside.
I told them about the slap.
I showed them my cheek.
Dad told them what he saw.
Ryan tried to interrupt.
One officer stopped him.
“Sir, you’ll get your turn.”
Ryan looked humiliated.
Good.
I hated myself for thinking that.
Then I remembered my wrist.
My cheek.
The stolen money.
The apartment.
I stopped feeling guilty.
The officers separated us.
Ryan told them we had argued about finances.
He claimed I had been “hysterical.”
He said he moved his hand and accidentally struck me.
Dad heard that.
“You liar.”
An officer asked Dad to stay quiet.
Ryan continued.
He said my father attacked him.
Dad admitted he had shoved Ryan back after Ryan pushed him.
The officers looked at my cheek again.
They spoke privately.
Eventually, Ryan was told he needed to leave for the night while they documented the incident.
He wasn’t arrested then.
But there would be a report.
Ryan packed a bag.
As he walked upstairs, Mom stood in the kitchen staring at the floor.
I went to her.
“You knew about Ashley.”
She shook her head.
“I knew a woman named Ashley existed.”
“What does that mean?”
“I saw her once.”
“Where?”
“At the apartment.”
“What was Ryan doing there?”
“He said she was a financial consultant.”
“Did you believe him?”
Mom hesitated.
That was my answer.
“You suspected.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You could have told me.”
“I thought I might be wrong.”
“So you protected him.”
“I was protecting you.”
“No. You were protecting yourself.”
She looked at me sharply.
I didn’t back down.
“If you told me you saw Ryan going into an apartment with another woman, I would start asking questions. Then I might discover the money.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I never wanted you involved.”
“You used my husband to hide money and somehow expected me not to be involved?”
She looked away.
I walked outside.
Dad followed.
We sat on the front steps.
For the first time all day, there was silence.
A real silence.
No shouting.
No phones.
No lies being thrown across the room.
Dad sat beside me.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at him.
“For what?”
“I should have told you there was a problem with the company account.”
“You didn’t know Ryan was involved.”
“No. But I knew something was wrong.”
“Did you suspect Mom?”
He stared at the driveway.
“Not at first.”
“When did you?”
“About a month ago.”
I turned.
“What happened?”
“She started asking strange questions. About the company. About my accounts. About what she would receive if I died.”
I felt sick.
“Did you confront her?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That she was updating our estate plan.”
“And you believed her?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Dad looked at me.
“Because she’s your mother.”
That answer hurt more than I expected.
Everybody had been protecting everybody.
And all that protection had done was create a house full of secrets.
The front door opened.
Ryan came outside with a duffel bag.
He looked at me.
“Can I talk to you alone?”
“No.”
“It’s about Ashley.”
Dad stood.
Ryan sighed.
“Fine. Your father can listen.”
I waited.
Ryan came down one step.
“Ashley and I knew each other before you.”
“How well?”
He looked away.
“We dated.”
My heart sank.
“How long?”
“Two years.”
“You never mentioned her.”
“It ended badly.”
“Then why are you paying her rent?”
“I’m not.”
I laughed.
He raised a hand.
“Listen.”
“No.”
“You want the truth? Listen.”
I folded my arms.
Ryan lowered his voice.
“Ashley works in finance now. I contacted her because your mother asked me to help move money.”
Mom came to the doorway.
“That is not the whole truth.”
Ryan ignored her.
“Ashley helped set up accounts.”
Dad asked, “Including Westbrook?”
“Yes.”
I felt a flash of relief.
It lasted half a second.
Then Ryan added, “But Ashley didn’t put your name on it.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
Dad said, “That answer is getting old.”
Ryan looked at me.
“I rented the apartment because Ashley needed somewhere private to work.”
I stared at him.
“You rented a luxury apartment for a financial consultant?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Were you sleeping with her?”
“No.”
I watched his eyes.
He had lied to me many times.
I suddenly understood something terrible.
I had no idea how to tell when he was telling the truth.
One officer stepped outside.
“Mr. Carter, you need to leave.”
Ryan nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“Don’t go to the apartment.”
“Why?”
“Because Ashley is not who you think she is.”
“I don’t think anything. I don’t know her.”
Ryan leaned closer.
“She has copies of everything.”
Dad asked, “Everything what?”
Ryan looked at him.
“Transfers. Messages. Documents.”
Mom stepped forward.
Her face drained.
Ryan smiled at her.
“You wanted proof I didn’t act alone?”
Mom whispered, “You said those were destroyed.”
“I lied.”
Then he walked toward his car.
I called after him.
“Ryan.”
He stopped.
“Did Ashley help you steal from my father?”
He turned around.
“No.”
“Then why are you scared of me talking to her?”
He stared at me for several seconds.
Finally he said, “Because she hates me.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
For once, Dad almost smiled.
Ryan got into his car and drove away.
Mom came outside.
“You cannot go there.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“She will tell you things you won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“She’s angry.”
“At who?”
Mom said nothing.
I looked at Dad.
“I’m going.”
He nodded.
“I’m coming.”
Mom grabbed my arm.
“Please.”
I pulled away.
“Did you commit a crime with my husband?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I made a terrible mistake.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
She couldn’t answer.
Dad and I drove toward Dallas.
Mom followed in her car despite everything.
The apartment building was modern and expensive.
Valet parking.
Glass lobby.
Private elevators.
My stomach twisted when the concierge confirmed Ryan Carter’s name was on the lease.
He called upstairs.
A minute later, a woman came down.
Early thirties.
Dark business suit.
Hair tied back.
She looked tired.
Then she saw me.
Her expression changed immediately.
“You’re his wife.”
“Yes.”
She looked at Dad.
Then Mom.
When she saw my mother, anger flashed across her face.
“You brought her?”
Mom whispered, “Ashley—”
“Don’t.”
Ashley turned back to me.
“I wondered how long it would take you to find this place.”
I swallowed.
“Did you help Ryan steal money?”
She stared at me.
“No.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
Mom gasped.
Ashley’s expression softened.
“Yes.”
The word hit me harder than I expected.
Dad moved closer.
I held up my hand.
I didn’t want anyone helping me stand.
Not this time.
“How long?”
Ashley looked at Ryan’s name on the building directory.
“Seven months.”
Seven months.
My entire marriage suddenly felt like a room someone had switched the lights off inside.
I forced myself to ask the next question.
“Did you know he was married?”
Ashley looked ashamed.
“Not at first.”
“And after you found out?”
She looked me in the eye.
“I ended it.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
I almost laughed.
Three weeks.
Ryan had been furious for three weeks.
Picking fights.
Sleeping in the guest room.
Accusing me of checking on him.
Suddenly it all made sense.
Ashley looked toward my mother.
“Ryan blamed you when I ended it.”
Mom stepped back.
“What?”
“He said Linda was forcing him to stay married until the money was finished moving.”
My mother looked horrified.
“I never said that.”
Ashley nodded.
“I know.”
“How?”
Ashley reached into her bag.
She pulled out a flash drive.
“Because Ryan lies about everybody.”
She held it toward me.
“He forgot that accountants keep records.”
I took it.
“What’s on this?”
Ashley’s eyes moved to my father.
“Enough to prove your daughter didn’t steal the money.”
I almost collapsed from relief.
May you like
Then she added one sentence.
“But it will also prove her mother did.”
