Chapter 2 - The Transfer Before Midnight
Brooke locked her phone the instant she realized I had seen the screen.
“Give me that.”
She stood.
“Claire—”
“Your phone.”
Grant stepped between us. “You’re finished making demands.”
I turned toward Ryan.
“What is the transfer?”
His eyes flicked toward Brooke.
That was answer enough.
Diane finally lowered her wineglass.
“Ryan, what did you do?”
He snapped, “Mom, stay out of it.”
Interesting.
She had watched her husband burn me without moving.
But one unauthorized transfer frightened her.
I called 911.
Ryan came toward me.
I raised the penthouse fob.
“If you touch me again, the elevator doesn’t open for any of you.”
That stopped him.
The penthouse occupied the top two floors of a building near Union Station. The private elevator required registered credentials after ten at night. Ryan had access because I had given it to him.
So had Grant and Diane.
I revoked all three from my phone while the dispatcher stayed on the line.
Brooke whispered, “You can’t strand us up here.”
“I’m not. Police can escort you out.”
Ryan’s expression hardened.
“You’re really doing this?”
I looked at my wrists.
“Yes.”
Denver police arrived before midnight.
Paramedics came with them.
There was no dramatic countdown for us.
While fireworks exploded over the skyline, a paramedic lifted the edge of my sweater and examined the small burn on my abdomen.
The baby was moving.
My blood pressure was high.
They wanted me evaluated at the hospital.
I agreed.
Grant insisted the cigarette contact had been accidental.
Nobody in the room supported him.
Not even Ryan.
But Ryan didn’t support me either.
He said we had been arguing over “family finances” and things had escalated.
Things.
That word nearly broke whatever remained of our marriage.
An officer asked whether I felt safe returning home with Ryan.
“No.”
He looked at my husband.
Ryan looked shocked.
Not remorseful.
Shocked.
At Saint Joseph Hospital, fetal monitoring showed a steady heartbeat.
Only then did I ask the question I had been holding since the dining room.
“What was that $480,000 transfer?”
Ryan stared at the floor.
“It didn’t go through.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He rubbed both hands across his face.
“My family needs money.”
“I know.”
“No, Claire. You don’t.”
He finally looked at me.
“Dad’s company has until midnight to meet a lender requirement.”
I checked the time.
12:41 a.m.
The deadline had passed.
“What happens now?”
Ryan looked physically ill.
“The bank can take control of three properties.”
I thought of Grant’s cigarette.
Brooke’s banking app.
The way Ryan had restrained me instead of protecting me.
Then I asked the question that scared me most.
“How did Brooke get into an account with my name on it?”
Ryan didn’t answer.
May you like
And that was when I understood the transfer was not the beginning of the problem.
It was the first one I had caught.
