I hoped she’d appreciate the irony, my naming a trust after her, when I’d accused her of breaking mine.It was just the beginning of how I planned to prove to her that I was a full idiot, but not an irredeemable one.
After we clarified a few more details and hung up, I felt something like purpose for the first time in weeks.
It wasn't enough.It didn't fix what I'd broken with Clara or the ways in which I’d disappeared when things got tough.But it was a start.
I’d tried doing things the old way, and it hadn’t worked.
I was ready for a new way.
When I returned to the office later that afternoon, Archer was just coming out of my office.
“Oh my God, are you trying to catch me sleeping on the couch again?”I asked, instantly annoyed.“I promise I’ll sleep in a bed tonight.I’ll sign an affidavit even.”
I could tell none of my words had sunk into him because he didn’t give me shit.Instead, he looked at me with a dazed expression."Where the hell have you been?"
"Queens.I went to the community center."
"Have you heard what your wife has done?"
My stomach dropped as I began piecing together his weird energy and the expression on his face."What happened?Is she okay?"
"She’s fine.I need you to come in here.”He strode toward his office next door, turning the laptop around for us to both look at."Clara sent me research.Like, a whole shit ton of it.FOIA requests and political donation tracking and…shit, everything.This could be a Netflix documentary, Nash.It's going to blow the Gideon permit lawsuit wide open."
I moved closer, scanning the screen.Pages and pages of documentation.Permit precedents.Meeting logs.Donation records.A pattern of revocations that painted a damning picture.
"Holy shit,” I whispered.“She dug all this up?”
"Yes.Like, House style," Archer said, his voice tinged with disbelief.“You know, the doctor that always figured out the weird diseases.”
I thought about the analogy for a moment.“Wouldn’t Sherlock Holmes be a better analogy?I mean, he’s an actual detective.”
Archer glared at me.“Don’t critique my analogy choices.”
“I just think Sherlock is better than—”
“Wouldn’t Nancy Drew be a better fit than Sherlock Holmes?”Archer challenged.“Never mind about the analogy.Look at the stuff she sent.”
I scrolled through the documents, and the subtext was clear.Clara had found evidence of Sebastian Cross rigging the permitting process.She had found five other projects that were approved with identical or worse environmental ratings than our hotel—and all of them were projects backed by Cross Developments.Archer pointed out another document.
"She somehow got meeting logs where Cross and Commissioner Hayes were meeting up like every day for weeks.And then here you can see Cross Development’s campaign contributions to the mayor right before one of his projects was approved, the one that had worse environmental impact ratings than ours.She dug up an entire paper trail showing corruption and bias."
I stared at the screen, my throat tight."This is fucking incredible."
"She's been working on it for weeks, apparently.She sent it this afternoon and called me so we could go over everything.”
“You talked to her?”
“Yeah.”
I swallowed, my mouth dry.“How is she?How is Mia?”
Archer seemed to struggle to find the words.“Fine, I guess.You should be asking her that yourself.”
My gut squeezed.“I called her earlier and left some voicemails.I don’t expect her to call me back though.”
“I wouldn’t, if I was her.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.“Thanks for that.”
