Chapter 9: What the Freeze Order Found
The call came at 2:15 that afternoon.
Amara was back at Nadia's apartment, sitting on the couch with her shoes off and a glass of water she kept forgetting to drink, when Ashworth's number appeared on the secondary phone Reyes had given her.
"The freeze executed at eleven," Ashworth said.
"All fourteen accounts.
The shell companies are locked."
"And?"
"And we found a fifteenth account.
One that wasn't on your document."
Amara set the water glass down.
"Whose?"
"Selena Ward's.
In her name, opened six years ago, funded from one of the shell companies on your list.
It's been receiving regular transfers.
The last one was three days ago."
Amara was quiet.
"She wasn't just the mistress," Ashworth said.
"She was a participant.
She received payment.
We're not certain yet whether she was willing or coerced, but the account is real and the transfers are documented."
"She warned me," Amara said.
"Last night.
In the bedroom.
She told me to be careful."
"That's consistent with someone who knew what was coming and was trying to limit their own exposure."
"Is she going to be charged?"
"That depends on what she tells us when we bring her in.
Which will be this afternoon."
Amara thought about Selena in the doorway.
The shifted expression.
*How long have you known he was going to do this.* The phone she had reached for the moment Amara left the room.
"She called his lawyer," Amara said.
"Last night.
Reyes told me."
"She did.
And then she called someone else."
"Who?"
A pause.
"Herself," Ashworth said.
"She called her own voicemail and left a message.
Eleven minutes long.
Describing the conversation in your bedroom in detail.
Including what you said about the copies."
Amara frowned.
"Why would she do that?"
"We think it was insurance.
A record she could produce if she needed to prove she hadn't concealed information.
She's been protecting herself for a while, Mrs.
Moretti.
She just wasn't sure from whom."
Amara looked at the window.
Nadia's brother Marcus was in the kitchen making sandwiches.
The dog was asleep near the radiator.
"What happens to Dante now?" she asked.
"His lawyer has been with him since eleven-thirty.
He knows about the freeze.
He knows about the document." A brief pause.
"He made one attempt to access the primary account at 11:04, before the freeze fully executed.
He got approximately forty thousand out."
"That's nothing," Amara said.
"Compared to what's in those accounts."
"It's nothing," Ashworth agreed.
"Which tells us he panicked.
Men like Dante Moretti don't panic unless they understand they've already lost."
"He came to that coffee shop to try to stop me."
"Yes."
"And when that didn't work, he tried to run money."
"Yes."
"And now?"
"Now his lawyer is asking for a meeting with our office.
Which means Dante is considering his options." Ashworth's voice was even.
"He has two.
Cooperate and give us the people above him in exchange for reduced exposure.
Or don't cooperate and face the full weight of six federal counts plus the obstruction he committed this morning in front of me."
"There are people above him?"
"There are always people above them, Mrs.
Moretti."
Amara sat with that.
"What do you need from me?" she asked.
"For now — stay where you are.
Don't contact Dante.
Don't contact Selena.
If anyone reaches out to you who isn't me or Reyes, don't respond and let us know immediately."
"Okay."
"And Mrs.
Moretti—" Ashworth paused.
"The document you retrieved.
The routing numbers.
We've been trying to access that drawer for fourteen months.
We had a warrant.
We couldn't execute it without tipping him off." Another pause.
"You got it in twenty minutes with a code he forgot he gave you."
"I had more time than you," Amara said.
"And he didn't think I was paying attention."
"No," Ashworth said.
"He didn't."
She ended the call.
Marcus set a plate on the coffee table in front of Amara without saying anything.
Ham and mustard.
The crusts cut off.
She looked up at him.
He shrugged.
"Nadia said you like the crusts off."
Amara looked at the sandwich.
Something about it — the smallness of it, the ordinary kindness of it, a man she had met twice in her life cutting the crusts off a sandwich because his sister had mentioned it once — broke something loose in her chest that she hadn't known was still locked.
She pressed her hand over her mouth.
Marcus sat in the armchair across from her.
He didn't say anything.
He picked up the television remote and turned on a cooking show at low volume and looked at the screen.
She cried for four minutes.
Quietly.
Her hand still over her mouth.
Then she picked up the sandwich and ate it.
"Thank you," she said.
"Don't mention it," Marcus said, eyes still on the screen.
Her phone buzzed.
Reyes.
*Selena Ward is in custody.
Cooperating.
Dante's lawyer called at 3:00.
He wants to talk terms.*
Amara read it twice.
Then she set the phone face-down on the cushion beside her, leaned back, and let her daughter kick against her ribs, steady and insistent, like a small fist knocking on a door, saying: *I'm here.
May you like
I'm here.
I'm here.*
