Chapter 8: The Morning Grace Moved
Grace called at seven forty-two in the morning.
"The warrant was executed at seven," she said.
"His offices and his home address simultaneously.
His attorney is already making noise but the records are clean — your records, Marcus, the ones Rachel compiled.
They're airtight."
I was standing in Daniel's kitchen.
Rachel was in the doorway, still in yesterday's clothes, Sophie on her hip.
"Did they get him?" I said.
"He was at the office.
He walked in at six-thirty, apparently to get ahead of the day." A pause.
"He didn't get ahead of it."
I looked at Rachel.
She was watching my face.
"What about Vanessa?" I said.
"She's a more complicated situation.
She's cooperating — she started cooperating the moment she understood what Derek was actually facing.
She's given a full statement.
Her attorney is negotiating." Grace's voice was precise and measured.
"She will face charges related to the fraud and for her role in concealing Rachel's whereabouts.
The incident with Sophie at the pool is being reviewed separately."
"Reviewed," I said.
"Charged," Grace corrected herself.
"I misspoke.
She will be charged."
Sophie was pulling at Rachel's hair, not paying attention, interested only in a bird she could see through the window.
Three years old.
Completely unaware of how many people had made decisions around her life like she was a variable in an equation.
"What does Rachel face?" I said.
"That conversation needs to happen with Rachel present and her own counsel in the room.
But I'll tell you this — she spent two years building the case that just brought down a money laundering operation.
Prosecutors notice that." A pause.
"She'll need a good attorney.
I can recommend someone."
"Do that," I said.
I hung up.
Rachel was still watching me.
"Derek is in custody," I said.
She closed her eyes.
Just for a moment.
Sophie patted her cheek.
"Mama sad?" Sophie said.
"No, baby," Rachel said.
She opened her eyes.
"Mama's okay."
Daniel appeared from the hallway, hair still disheveled, holding a coffee cup.
"Did it happen?"
"It happened," I said.
He raised the coffee cup in a small, quiet salute and went back to the hallway.
I looked at Rachel.
"You need an attorney," I said.
"Grace is going to send a name.
You should call today."
"I know." She shifted Sophie to her other hip.
"Marcus — what happens now?
With us.
With Sophie.
I'm not asking for anything.
I just need to know what I'm walking into."
It was a fair question.
I had been thinking about it since the gravel driveway the night before.
"Sophie needs her mother," I said.
"Whatever comes legally, whatever comes between you and me — Sophie needs you present and safe.
That's the first thing."
Rachel nodded.
"The rest," I said, "we figure out.
Not today."
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she nodded again, and this time it was different — smaller, quieter.
The nod of someone who has been braced for a door to slam and heard it stay open instead.
Sophie pointed at the window.
"Bird, Daddy.
Big bird."
I looked.
A large gray pigeon was sitting on the windowsill, completely unimpressed by everything.
"Big bird," I agreed.
May you like
Sophie giggled.
It was the first ordinary sound in two days.
