Chapter 7
"Come on, Rebecca, can't you just let Jacob sort this out?" Philip said. "You keep harping on it, and honestly, it just makes you look petty.
"He's showing real compassion by taking in an orphan, and if you keep throwing shade like this, people are gonna think the Tate family doesn't know how to act."
I looked at Doris.
She kept her head down, not saying a word, idly swiping at her phone screen.
"Doris, what do you think?" I asked.
Doris stiffened, then looked up and forced a smile.
"I I don't really know much about this," she said. "You guys can talk it over."
Her eyes darted away, and as she looked down, her fingers absently tugged at her sleeve.
I didn't look at her again and turned to my dad.
"Dad, when Jacob came over, did he say anything besides bringing those gifts?" I asked.
My dad took a sip of his drink, not meeting my eyes.
"Not much," he said. "He just said he was worried you might lose your head, so he wanted us to try and calm you down. Said you've been a bit unstable lately, and those postpartum problems haven't really cleared up."
Zoe was already six, and he was still blaming everything on postpartum problems.
"What else did he say?" I asked.
My mom jumped in. "He also said that if you really insist on divorce, he won't leave you with nothing. He'll give you enough money to live decently. But he's keeping the kids, both Zoe and Xavier stay with him."
She set down her fork and grabbed my hand.
"Rebecca, let me talk straight with you," she said. "Since you married Jacob, you haven't had to worry about a single thing. He gives you all his money, you've got a nanny and a driver.
"You're living like a princess. Where else are you gonna get that kind of life? If you really get divorced, where are you gonna live? What are you gonna do for food? You don't even have a proper job."
I withdrew my hand, refusing to let her hold me.
"I don't have a job because Jacob told me to quit and stay home with the kids," I said.
Philip let out a snort.
"Seriously, Rebecca, you can't just blame everything on Jacob," Philip said. "You were the one who agreed to quit your job, so how is that his fault?
"Besides, how much money could you really make at a job anyway? Isn't it way easier just being a stay-at-home wife?"
I locked eyes with Philip for a couple of seconds, making sure he felt the pressure.
He dodged my stare and stuffed his mouth with food, pretending to be busy chewing.
I stood up and grabbed my bag.
"I can't eat another bite tonight," I said.
My mom got anxious and called out, "Rebecca."
"Mom, relax," I said. "I'm not about to make the Tate family look bad. I'm taking care of Xavier's birthday party, and once that's done, everyone will see things clearly."
As I walked toward the door, passing by Doris, she suddenly brushed my bag with her hand.
I looked down at her.
She didn't say a word, just quickly pulled up a screenshot on her phone, showed it to me for barely two seconds, then tucked it away.
It was a screenshot of a chat conversation.
The sender was saved as "Jerry."
It was a screenshot of a bank transfer, with the note: [Doris's electricity bill.]
The amount was way higher than what any family would ever pay for electricity.
I caught Doris's eye, but she quickly looked away, her fingers nervously tugging at her sleeve again.
I didn't say a word and walked out the door.
As I drove out of the neighborhood, Maria called.
"I got the call logs," Maria said. "Elsa called a local Harborvale number over four hundred times in the past three years.
"I tracked the number; it's registered to someone named Matthew Scott, but there's zero info on this guy. That name's a total fake."
"And another thing," Maria lowered her voice. "I got someone to dig up the records from three years ago, when Elsa supposedly died in that crash.
"The car was in her name, but all they found at the scene was a burned-out wreck and a body burned beyond recognition. When it came time for the family to confirm the ID, guess who signed off on it?"
"Jacob," I said.
"Yep. He handled everything alone. No other family, no friends, not even Elsa's folks showed up. Jacob did it all: ID'd the body, signed the forms, took care of the funeral," Maria said.
My hand rested on the steering wheel, my thumb absently tracing the leather.
"Maria, help me arrange a meeting," I said.
"Who?" Maria asked.
"Tyler Bellamy," I replied.
Tyler was Jacob's most trusted buddy, and the only guy in their old squad who was friends with both Jacob and Duncan.
Back when Jacob took Xavier in, Tyler was the one who stood up as a witness, backing Jacob up in front of all their army pals and saying what he did was the right thing.
And because Tyler was close with both sides, he probably knew way more than anyone else.
Maria picked out a hole-in-the-wall restaurant on the north side of Harborvale for the meetup.
When Tyler showed up, he was wearing a rumpled jacket, looking way more worn out than he did at that dinner a few days ago.