Chapter 5 - THE SAFE DEPOSIT BOX
Julian barely slept.
Clara didn't sleep at all.
At dawn he found her standing at the bedroom window looking across the frost-covered gardens.
He handed her coffee.
She took it without drinking.
"Do you believe Sienna?"
Julian stood beside her.
"I believe she's desperate."
"That's not what I asked."
"No."
Clara looked at him.
"No, you don't believe her?"
"I don't believe you married me for access."
She looked relieved.
Then guilty.
Julian saw that too.
"But there is something you haven't told me."
She closed her eyes.
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"I have a safe deposit box."
"I know."
Clara's eyes opened.
"You know?"
"I saw it listed in the surveillance room."
"Oh."
"What's inside?"
She hesitated.
Julian's patience sharpened.
"Clara."
"Documents."
"What documents?"
"From the old housing case."
Julian stared at her.
"You kept evidence?"
"Copies."
"Why?"
"Because the case was shut down."
"By whom?"
"My firm's board."
"Why?"
"They said the evidence wasn't strong enough."
"Was it?"
"Yes."
"Then why shut it down?"
"Three weeks later, Ashford Legal Aid received a twelve-million-dollar donation."
Julian already knew the answer.
"From Hayes Community Housing."
"Yes."
The coffee in his hand suddenly tasted bitter.
"You think my family bought your employer."
"I know somebody did."
Julian set the cup down.
"And you kept copies."
"I thought one day I might need them."
"Why didn't you report it?"
"I tried."
"To whom?"
"Henry Morrow."
The name returned.
Julian stared at her.
"You met him recently."
"Because he contacted me."
"When?"
"Six weeks ago."
"What did he want?"
"He said someone had reopened the housing investigation."
"Who?"
"He wouldn't tell me."
Julian thought carefully.
"And he asked for your evidence."
"Yes."
"Did you give it to him?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because the documents implicate people whose names I couldn't verify."
"People in my family?"
"Yes."
He breathed slowly.
"Which people?"
Clara looked toward the door.
"Your mother."
Julian did not react.
She continued.
"Sienna."
Still nothing.
"And Lawrence."
Julian stared at the garden.
"Anyone else?"
Clara's silence answered.
He turned.
"Who?"
She looked directly at him.
"Your father."
The room seemed to contract.
Charles Hayes had died three years earlier.
He had been Julian's hero.
A disciplined, generous man who had taught him that wealth meant responsibility.
Julian's voice came quietly.
"My father built the housing foundation."
"I know."
"He spent thirty years funding it."
"I know."
"And you're telling me he stole from it."
"I'm telling you his name appears on approvals connected to missing money."
"That's different."
"Yes."
"You don't know whether he knew."
"No."
Julian walked away.
Clara didn't follow.
After several minutes he said, "We're going to the bank."
The safe deposit box was held at a private bank downtown.
Detective Bishop accompanied them.
Marcus drove.
Nobody spoke during the trip.
When they arrived, the branch manager personally escorted them downstairs.
Clara provided her key.
The manager inserted the bank key.
Click.
The box opened.
Clara pulled it out.
She stared.
Her expression changed instantly.
"What?"
Julian asked.
She shook her head.
"No."
"Clara."
She opened the box.
Empty.
Except for a white envelope.
Her name was written across the front.
CLARA HAYES.
No stamp.
No seal.
She opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Julian stood beside her.
The picture showed him leaving a restaurant.
The date printed beneath it was six months before Julian had met Clara.
On the back, someone had written:
May you like
YOU WERE NEVER THE TARGET.
YOUR HUSBAND WAS.
