The Marriage Lie(74)
For once, Ava doesn’t try to bite down on her smile. She just looks at me and lets it rip, and her happiness lights up her face. She really is a beautiful girl, and I’m about to tell her she should smile more often when the bigger picture occurs to me.
“You seem surprisingly okay with all of this. How come?”
She unwinds her finger, pushes the hair back over her shoulder and straightens her Lake Forrest sweater. “Honestly? Because of you. Because of what happened to your husband. Things like that make you realize what’s really important, and it’s not another diamond Rolex, you know? Like, life is too short to be focused on all the wrong things.”
And just like that, I’m crying. For me, for Will, for Ava and her mother. This is the moment every counselor works for, that aha moment of breakthrough when their student sheds some of the baggage weighing them down, but because of my own baggage, I’m too emotional to say a word.
“Anyway—” she swipes her backpack from the floor and pushes to a stand “—I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just wanted you to know that if you need me, I’ll be in a tiny bedroom up in Sandy Springs, and I have you to thank for it.” Her cheeky grin fades into something more solemn, and her voice goes rough around the edges. “Seriously, Mrs. Griffith. Thank you, and I’m really, really sorry about your husband.”
*
As soon as she’s gone, I wipe my tears with my sleeve and call Evan on my desk phone. “Hey, it’s me.”
“Finally. I must have left you a dozen voice mails. Did you leave your cell at home or something?”
I feel around for my bag on the floor, push it with my foot to the very back corner of my desk, where it tangles with the computer wires. “The battery’s dead.”
“Well, plug it in, will you? I talked to the waitress.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing, that’s the problem. I’m hoping she’ll be more forthcoming in person, which is why I’d like to fly down there later this week, you and me both. My size tends to scare people off, and I’m thinking it might help if I show up with another female who also happens to be a psychologist.”
“You’re probably right. I’m happy to help any way I can.”
“Great. My assistant is moving some things around on my schedule. She’ll let you know the day once she clears one up.”
“Sounds good.”
“I also talked to an old buddy of mine whose firm specializes in corporate accounting fraud, and apparently, it’s a well-known secret around town that AppSec’s plans to go public keep getting postponed because they can’t get their shit together. The VCs have all backed out. They want nothing to do with them.”
“What’s a VC?”
“Venture capital fund. They invest money in companies like AppSec in exchange for equity. Companies typically use them for an influx of cash as a lead-up to the IPO. In AppSec’s case, there were a few enthusiastic investors as recently as three years ago, but only one this past year and that was 100 percent stock, so not exactly liquid.”
“I’m a school psychologist, Evan. I have no idea what any of that means.”
“It means that Will’s boss has lost his marbles if he thinks AppSec will be going public anytime soon. That company is in deep financial distress, and their books are a mess. It’s no wonder four and a half million were missing before anyone had any idea it was gone.”
The bell rings, and the classrooms spill clumps of rowdy teenagers into the hall. I pull the phone cord long, step around my desk and reach for my office door. It’s something I’ve never done—ever, in the six-plus years I’ve worked here—and the students notice. They look over with brows light with surprise, right before I shut the door in their faces.
“Okay,” I say, returning to my desk chair, “but that still doesn’t explain how a software engineer could sneak that much out of the company without anyone noticing. Wouldn’t he need someone to sign the checks for him?”
“Not if he moved it electronically. He probably wouldn’t have had to cover his tracks very carefully to get away with it, either, which is both good news and bad. Bad for the thief, but good for the investigators. All they have to do to get it back is follow the paper trail.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure. Will is a genius, and he wouldn’t leave obvious footprints for the investigators.”
Especially if I’m right, if Will is hiding out with the money. He’ll make sure neither will be easy to trace. In fact, I’m willing to bet I’m the only link left to him, the dead phone in my bag the only clue.
On the other end of the line, Evan shuffles some papers around his desk. “I’ve got a few calls out. I figure if I can ferret out who AppSec is using as an investigator, it might give me some indication as to where they’re looking for the money. In the meantime, what did you do with the Liberty Airlines check?”
“I ripped it in half.” I don’t mention that if I could have stuffed it down that Ann Margaret’s throat, I would have.
“And you haven’t claimed any of the life insurance policies, have you?”
“No.”
“Good. Don’t. As Will’s wife, you’re going to be the first person they look to as coconspirator, and it’s important you don’t touch a cent of money that might not be kosher. Will you be okay financially for the foreseeable future?”