Wish You Were Gone(72)
Hunter got up and stormed out of the room, and Kelsey shot out of her chair to follow. Emma gathered her things as Evan continued to read. Clearly, this was for the benefit of Charles Lipschultz and whoever the phantom people were on the phone. She could see no reason why she had to be there for this charade. By the time she rejoined her children in the lobby, they were arguing in harsh whispers.
“Kids! What’s going on?” she asked quietly, glancing around at the closed doors to the other offices.
Hunter stopped talking mid-sentence and Kelsey walked off in a huff, heading for the parking lot.
“Is she okay?” Emma asked.
Hunter ran a hand through his hair. His skin was blotchy, and she was reminded of how red he used to get as a kid when he was trying not to cry on the pitcher’s mound after a series of bad pitches, or during a particularly sad movie.
“It’s just… it’s bullshit, Mom!”
“Language!”
“I’m sorry, but… some of that stuff… it’s… it has sentimental value for us,” he said, looking at the floor. “Remember how Dad used to take us to Yankees Photo Day? Or when we were in the Giants Kids Club? A lot of that stuff we got signed together or we were at the games with him when we were little. How could he just give it away?”
Emma pressed a hand to her chest. She could have killed James for doing this to the kids. Why did the one curve ball he’d thrown them in this new will have to affect them and not her? She would have been much happier to deal with a slew of mistresses. At least that would be her cross to bear and not theirs.
“Well, maybe he didn’t give that stuff away. Maybe it’s more the things that are part of history. None of us were around when Lou Gehrig was playing. Why don’t we go back in and listen to Evan read the list? Maybe that will make you feel better.”
At the far end of the marble-floored lobby, Kelsey shoved open the door and let it slam. The sound seemed to reverberate in the hushed lobby.
“No. It’s fine,” Hunter said. “I’ve got the list. I’ll look at it later.” The page was now a crumpled ball in his palm. “Let’s just go home.”
* * *
IT WAS AMAZING how quickly one could get to the East Side in the middle of the day. Within the hour, Emma was tossing her keys to the parking attendant and striding into the mahogany-and-glass offices of Garrison & Walsh. It had been so long since she’d made an appearance, it took her a moment to navigate the open office area to the back, where the partners’ suites were. The receptionist just let her through when she heard who she was, but Emma had no such delusions that getting past Zoe would be as easy.
But Zoe wasn’t at her desk. It was a sign. It had to be. Emma stepped up to James’s door, gave a quick plea to the universe for luck, hoping against hope that they’d left James’s computer in his office, and opened it.
The room was untouched. They hadn’t cleaned it out yet. It smelled of James, all leather and whiskey and aftershave. But his computer wasn’t there. The monitor was, but the wires hung down behind the desk, attached to nothing.
“Here for this?”
Emma turned around. Darnell stood there, holding a small, silver laptop in his massive hand.
“Gray told me you might stop by,” he added.
Startled at having been so quickly caught, Emma backed up a step. As guilty as she felt for thinking it, she still wasn’t entirely sure that Darnell hadn’t come after James that night in the driveway. After what she’d witnessed at Gray’s house, it seemed totally possible. From what she’d read about CTE, he could have done something to James and not even known how to stop himself. Covering it up with the accident was another story, though. He would have had to be in his right mind to do that.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Emma,” Darnell said, and held out the computer at arm’s length. “And we haven’t wiped that yet.”
“You’re just going to let me look at it?” she asked, taking the laptop and hugging it to her chest.
Darnell lifted his massive shoulders. “I have nothing to hide. Fair warning, though—not sure I can say the same about James.” He turned toward the door, then stood in the open doorway for a moment. “I’m sorry about what you saw the other night. For what it’s worth, I’m seeing a therapist and a whole slew of doctors to make sure it doesn’t happen again. And I really hope that you and Gray are able to fix this rift between you. She really loves you, you know.” He gave her a sad smile. “I’ll leave you to it.”
And he closed the door.
Emma ran to the desk and plugged the laptop into the monitor. She could process that little encounter with Darnell later. For now, she had work to do. The computer awoke instantly.
WELCOME JAMES WALSH
And then:
ENTER PASSWORD.
Emma sat down in the rolling chair. She tried his usual password. Access denied. She tried it again, just in case she’d mistyped. Access denied. She tried a few others she knew he’d used over the years, clueless as to whether the system was set to lock her out completely the more times she tried. Access denied. Access denied. Access denied.
There was a framed photo of her family on the desk, a sheen of dust across the glass. Emma picked it up and used her sleeve to wipe it clean. Bermuda. 2014. She tried her birthdate, then Hunter’s, then Kelsey’s. Access denied.