Ward nodded along as I spoke and kept nodding for a few seconds afterward like he was sifting through my words for lies. He shrugged. “Miranda tells an impressive story. If yours isn’t better, the next time you see me wewillhave a warrant.”
I ran a hand over my face in frustration and growled. “What do you need from me? I already said I’d cooperate.”
“Tell us what happened the day you quit.”
My mouth dropped open and I sat there like a stupid frog trying to catch flies until Bob chuckled. “Quit? I was fired! Miranda asked me to take her car to the mechanic, and I was late to work because of it. She fired me herself. For fucking being late. She was my supervisor. I couldn’t understand why she would do that when it happened. It was so fucking weird, and just… mean.” I shrugged, at a loss myself.
“Your supervisor. And you lived with her, too?” Bob asked, scowling. “That ain’t smart.”
I sighed and fought off the urge to roll my eyes. “I know.”
Ward scratched his chin and stared at a photograph on the wall. “I had myself one of those Flathead motorcycles when I was fresh out of the Army.” He grinned, and I twisted to look at the framed photograph. I could not give less of a flying fuck right now. “Loved that bike.”
“What happened to it?” I asked when he seemed like he was going to be stuck in an old-man fantasy moment long enough that it might make me late getting home to dinner.
“Got married.” He shrugged. “Would Miranda have had access to your work computer?”
His conversational left turn gave me whiplash. “Sure. She was my supervisor, like I said. We lived together. She hadaccessto my whole life.”
Ward took way too much time tugging a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolding it from a tiny square. He glanced at me significantly while he smoothed the page out, and Bob stared with his mustache twitching. With a great amount of focus aimed directly at my face that in and of itself shook me, Ward slid the paper in front of me. I frowned down at it, reading my name in the right-hand corner. Then he tapped a line that was a string of numbers.
“Did you open this bank account? You’re the primary. She’s a secondary.”
“No. Where is this even at? The only bank in Minetto is the old one on Main Street. I have a single account there.”
“It’s an online bank. No physical location. Money from The National Greenlodge Bank was being diverted to this account.”
My blood ran cold, and suddenly everything became clearer to me. “I swear, I didn’t do it. What do you need from me? I didn’t authorize an account in my name except for the one I’ve had for years.”
Bob leaned forward, and his mustache gave one mighty convulsion to the left. “Sworn statement. You come in. Tell your side.”
“Can we do it here?” I glanced around, already knowing what they would want, and it wouldn’t be to make my life easy and less stressful.
Ward leaned closer to me. “Please, come back to Minetto with us. You’re not under arrest, but this must be cleared up. Between you, me, and the wall, I believe you. It’s a sticky situation.” He implored me, then broke the moment by snorting and swallowing down some phlegm.
I sat there staring too long, and finally, Ward tapped me on the shoulder.
“I’m going to go talk to Red. Tell her I have to leave.”
Ward nodded, and Bob actually smiled. “Good man.”
Red, however, didn’t agree. She cursed a blue streak when I went to the counter and let her know I was going.
“Fine, nice knowing you.” She tossed down her cleaning rag and disappeared into the back.
“Am I fired?”
She peeked her head out to glare again. “No, just get moving if you need to. You won’t take good advice, so you might as well get grooving with the bad.”
The trip to Minetto didn’t take long because the weather was great—would have been perfect for taking a walk with Jake—and the traffic on the highway was light. I went to the sheriff’s station and told them everything I could remember about the last year of my life, and after that I mentioned any details I could think of that might have been useful.
By the time Ward and Bob dropped me off at my car later that night, I was exhausted and almost falling asleep at the wheel as I pulled into the driveway at Jake and Declan’s house. It was well past midnight and I’d missed several calls from each of them this afternoon and into the evening. I’d forgotten Declan was flying in late. We’d just seen him, but I felt ripped off that I hadn’t gotten to greet him when he arrived home.
Emotionally wrung out, hungry, and tired, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to call them back. The front door was unlocked when I tried it, but the house had that quiet, sleepy feel when I opened the door. I sneaked upstairs and peeked into their room, and they were both on the bed, Jake snuggled up in Declan’s arms. They looked peaceful. Like they belonged together.
I stood looking for a long time, wanting to go in and collapse with them, but I was worried. I’d thought my life was moving on, things were getting better, but now… now I felt like I was back at square one.
What if I couldn’t make this bullshit with the stolen money go away? Ward and Bob had been nice enough, but they weren’t exactly promising they wouldn’t come arrest me later. They just kept saying things like “we’ll see” and “we’ll do our best” and “the facts will tell the story.”
