Chapter 8: What Cathy Said
Cathy called that afternoon.
Haley let it ring twice before answering.
She was in the living room, sitting in the chair by the window — the one that caught the afternoon light — with a cup of tea going cold on the side table.
"Haley." Cathy's voice was careful.
Soft in the way it got when she wanted something.
"Can we talk?"
"We're talking now."
"I mean in person.
I'm outside."
Haley looked toward the front window.
Cathy's car was parked at the curb.
She thought about saying no.
She thought about it for a full five seconds.
"Come in," she said.
"The door's unlocked."
Cathy came in looking like she had been crying, or had prepared to look like she had been crying — Haley was no longer certain which was which.
She sat on the sofa across from Haley's chair and folded her hands in her lap.
"I know you were there," Cathy said.
"Beckham told me."
"I know he did."
"Haley, I need you to understand—"
"Don't tell me to understand." Haley's voice was even.
"Don't start with that."
Cathy's hands tightened in her lap.
"I love him."
"I know."
"It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did.
It just—"
"Cathy." Haley leaned forward slightly.
"I don't want to talk about the affair.
I want to talk about the company."
Cathy blinked.
"Did you know about the February document?
The one he had me sign?"
A pause.
Too long.
"He said it was a formality," Cathy said.
"He said it wouldn't affect your day-to-day—"
"You knew."
"I didn't know exactly what it—"
"You knew." Haley's voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
"You knew he was having me sign away my ownership.
You knew about the notary.
You knew about the timeline.
You sat across from me at Christmas with that handbag I gave you and you knew."
Cathy looked down at her hands.
"I didn't think it would go this far," she said quietly.
"How far did you think it would go?"
No answer.
"He was moving money offshore, Cathy.
Four hundred and thirty thousand dollars through a shell company.
Did you know about that?"
Cathy's head came up.
"What?"
The surprise looked real.
Haley studied her sister's face the way she had learned to study Beckham's — looking for the calculation underneath the expression.
She didn't find it.
Not this time.
"He didn't tell you about the account," Haley said.
"No." Cathy's voice was smaller now.
"He said the money was going into the business.
That it was for — for after.
For us."
"There is no us.
There's him and there's whatever he needed you to do." Haley sat back.
"You were useful to him, Cathy.
You kept me calm.
You kept me trusting.
You made sure I didn't start asking questions too soon."
Cathy stared at her.
"He used you too," Haley said.
"I'm not saying that to be cruel.
I'm saying it because you should know."
The silence in the room stretched out.
Outside, a car passed.
The afternoon light moved across the floor.
"What happens now?" Cathy asked.
"The divorce proceeds.
The fraud case proceeds.
The company stays half mine." Haley picked up her tea, found it cold, set it back down.
"What happens to you depends on what you knew and when you knew it.
That's not my decision.
That's the DA's."
Cathy's face went pale.
"Am I in trouble?"
"I don't know.
That depends on how much you cooperate."
"I'll cooperate.
I'll tell them everything."
"Then call Patricia Voss.
She's my attorney.
She can connect you with someone who can advise you." Haley stood up.
"I'm not going to protect you from this, Cathy.
But I'm not going to go out of my way to make it worse either."
Cathy stood too.
She looked like she wanted to say something — something that started with the word sorry and tried to carry twenty years of sisterhood behind it.
Haley saw it coming.
"Don't," she said gently.
"Not today."
Cathy nodded.
She picked up her bag — a different bag, not the beige one — and walked to the door.
She stopped with her hand on the frame.
"He told me you'd never figure it out," she said.
"He said you trusted him too much to look."
"He was right," Haley said.
"Until he wasn't."
Cathy left.
Haley stood in the quiet living room for a moment, then walked to the window and watched her sister's car pull away from the curb and disappear around the corner.
She didn't feel the relief she had expected.
She felt something more like the end of a long illness — not joy, just the first morning without the fever.
Her phone buzzed.
Patricia.
"Gerald finished the full audit," Patricia said.
"The DA is moving forward.
They're issuing a warrant for Beckham's financial records and they've flagged Garrett Lund's firm for a separate review."
"When?"
"Tomorrow morning."
May you like
Haley looked out the window at the empty street.
"I'll be ready," she said.
