Chapter 3
Adrian stared at the photograph. The anger vanished from his face.
Sloane saw it too. Her fingers slowly released the lapels of his jacket.
After several seconds, Adrian reached for my phone.
I stepped back.
"What happened that night?"
"Sloane was drunk. She needed someone to take care of her."
"So you took off your clothes?"
"You've already decided what happened. Why ask?"
"I want to hear you admit it."
His expression hardened again.
"You restored company equipment, searched my travel history, and used a private photograph to interrogate me. Mara, you crossed a line."
"You looked me in the eye and lied."
"Because you were never going to listen to an explanation."
Sloane stepped out from behind him.
"You shouldn't have found out this way."
She spoke as though she were apologizing for a breach of etiquette.
"How long?" I asked.
She looked at Adrian. He did not answer.
"Twelve weeks? Longer?"
"Sloane understands what I'm carrying," Adrian said. "The company needs financing. Every collection depends on me. You walked away from all of it five years ago, locked everything in a vault, and decided that cooking a few dinners was enough to maintain a marriage."
For a moment, I could not speak.
The breakfasts I made, the medication I packed for his trips, the bills he forgot, and the light I left on whenever he came home after midnight had become a few dinners.
"Did I make you sleep with her?"
Adrian turned his face away.
Sloane answered for him.
"Your marriage had problems before I appeared."
"Is that why you put on my mother's necklace?"
She touched the emerald.
"Adrian said it belonged to both of you."
"He was wrong. Take it off."
This time, she reached for the clasp.
Adrian caught her wrist.
"We still have a shoot tomorrow."
I looked at his hand around hers.
A black sedan in the reserved area flashed its lights. Their driver was waiting. Adrian opened the rear door and helped Sloane inside.
"We all need to calm down," he said. "When you're ready to talk like a wife, I'll come home."
His eyes moved over me.
"Stop investigating me."
The door closed in my face. The sedan pulled toward the exit with Sloane wrapped in his jacket and the emerald glowing dark green behind the window.
I watched the taillights disappear, then returned to my car.
I drove home without music.
No one was there. The coffee cup I had prepared for Adrian the previous morning still sat on the kitchen counter, dried at the bottom.
I pushed it aside and went downstairs.
The brass key had always stayed in the small inner pocket of my purse. My mother had given it to me, and I had never made a duplicate.
The vault door was still dark gray, but the keyhole looked brighter than I remembered. The key went in halfway and stopped.
I tried again. The lock pressed against the old injury in my right hand, sending numbness up to my wrist. The key still would not turn.
The overnight security supervisor checked the service record.
"The lock cylinder was replaced three months ago. Adrian Vale requested the work. The order says you approved it."
I sent him the property deed. Within an hour, a technician came to the house and removed the new lock in front of me.
The lights came on one by one when the door opened.
The black velvet box for the emerald sat open on the first shelf.
The blue diamond was gone.
So was the ruby my mother had worn at her wedding. Two unregistered gray cases at the back remained in place, but both were empty when I opened them.
Adrian had spent forty-seven minutes in that room.
He had taken far more than one necklace.
The technician asked if I wanted the police. I told him to preserve the lock record while I checked my mother's inventory item by item.
The blue diamond's status had been changed from private storage to pending delivery.
A transfer authorization was attached.
On the last page, the signature read Mara Vale.