Liam sat back.
“Three million?”
“Three point two.”
“And Ethan knew you were looking into this?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you said he found out about the audit.”
“He saw an email.”
The memory returned without warning.
I had been standing in the pantry, my laptop open on the counter.
Ethan came home early.
He was unusually cheerful.
He carried a bottle of champagne and said we’d been invited to a dinner with a state housing commissioner.
Then he saw the screen.
A single line in an email from Halden.
We have concerns regarding the Northline-linked disbursements and recommend immediate preservation of records.
The champagne bottle had remained unopened.
The kitchen had become very quiet.
“Who are they?” he asked.
I closed the laptop.
“Consultants.”
“For what?”
“Something I’m reviewing.”
“For Apex?”
I had known then.
Not that he was guilty of anything financial.
I still didn’t know that.
