Chapter 7: The Morning Marcus Stopped Smiling
David moved fast.
By noon he had connected Jess's attorney with the FBI contact she had already approached.
By 2 p.m.
he had filed the protective order and submitted a formal request to have Noah's video evidence preserved and authenticated.
By 4 p.m.
he called me at Carol's house, where Noah and I had spent the day, and told me to sit down.
"The FBI has been watching Marcus Calloway for eleven months," David said.
I sat down.
"They had pieces," he said.
"Not enough to move.
What Jess brought them this afternoon filled in the last section.
They executed a warrant on Marcus's office at 3:47 p.m."
I looked across the room at Carol.
She was watching my face.
"What about Ryan?" I asked.
"Ryan is being interviewed right now," David said.
"His attorney is present.
Given the nature of the financial structure — the way Marcus set it up to expose Ryan and protect himself — there is a real possibility that Ryan cooperates and receives reduced exposure."
"Reduced," I said.
"Not none."
"Not none," David confirmed.
"His name is on documents.
That doesn't disappear.
But the difference between being Marcus's primary target and being a cooperating witness is significant."
I didn't say anything for a moment.
"Emily," David said.
"This doesn't change what happened in your home.
The @buse charges are separate.
The protective order stands regardless of what happens with the financial case.
Ryan's cooperation with the FBI does not affect your case or Noah's safety."
"I know," I said.
"I just want to make sure you know."
"I know," I said again.
After I hung up, Carol came and sat beside me on the couch.
"Well?" she said.
I told her.
All of it.
When I finished, she was quiet for a moment.
"So Marcus has been using Ryan for two years," she said.
"And Ryan was too scared to tell anyone."
"Yes."
"And instead of telling you — instead of asking for help — he came home and—" She stopped herself.
"Yes," I said.
Carol shook her head slowly.
"I'm not going to say I feel sorry for him."
"You don't have to."
"But I understand it a little more than I did this morning." She looked at me.
"Do you?"
I thought about it honestly.
"I understand it," I said.
"It doesn't change what it felt like to be on the other side of it."
"No," Carol said.
"It doesn't."
Noah came in from the backyard then, still in his shoes, holding a stick he had apparently decided was important.
"Is everything going to be okay?" he asked.
Carol and I looked at each other.
"Yes," I said.
"It's going to take a little while.
But yes."
He considered this.
"Is Dad in trouble?"
"Yes," I said.
"He is."
Noah turned the stick over in his hands.
"Is it because of me?"
I got up and crossed the room and crouched down in front of him.
"It is not because of you," I said.
"What happened is because of choices your dad made.
You didn't make those choices.
You just told the truth.
That's not the same thing."
He looked at me for a long moment.
"Okay," he said finally.
He held up the stick.
"Can I keep this?"
"Yes," I said.
"You can keep the stick."
He went back outside.
Carol laughed softly behind me.
Then she stopped laughing and I heard her exhale.
"Marcus is going to try to fight this," she said.
"You know that."
"I know."
"He's going to try to make Jess look unreliable.
He's going to try to make Ryan look like the architect.
He's going to try to make you look like someone with a motive to destroy his family."
"I know," I said.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Unknown number.
I answered it.
"Emily." The voice was smooth.
Calm.
A voice that was used to being listened to.
Marcus.
May you like
"I think we should talk," he said.
"Before this gets any further out of hand."
