Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
“How do you know it was the FBI?” I ask, sitting up. “Wait. I’m so glad you’re here, but how did you know to come? I was gonna call you in the morning.”
“It, um…” Yasmen runs her palms over the legs of her black jogging suit. “It’s already all over Skyland, Sol. I’m sorry. You know if somebody sneezes at night, Deidre from the bookstore is dropping off a box of Kleenex in the morning.”
“Well, and it was kinda on the news,” Hendrix adds, a subdued frown sitting ill at ease on her face.
“The… who… what…” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Did you say on the news?”
“CalPot is one of the biggest employers in the state,” Hendrix points out. “Six million dollars may not bankrupt them, but it’s still a lot of money to—”
“Six million dollars?” I squawk, bouncing an incredulous look between them. “What six million dollars?”
“On the news,” Yasmen says, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “They said Edward is accused of embezzling upward of six million dollars from the company.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I launch myself from the couch to pace in front of the fireplace. “I mean, I get it. He’s not your favorite, but you know he’s not capable of something like this, right? There has to be a mistake.”
What if Edward goes to prison? We’ve been at odds lately, but he’s still my husband. Fear for him, for the girls and me, strangles a sob in my throat. I’m spinning in some alternate universe with zero gravity. If even half of this is true, then my husband is not who I thought he was. Then the father of my children is a liar. A criminal.
Untrustworthy.
Irresponsible.
Reckless.
And how could I not know? Nearly twenty years with him, and how could I not know?
Each question hammers at my temples. I need answers. I reach for the remote and aim it toward the television, only to have it snatched from my hands.
“No, ma’am.” Hendrix hides the remote behind her back. “Not tonight. We told you the highlights. It’s late. Tomorrow’s gonna be a bitch. You should get some rest.”
My phone rings, and my heart pounds when I see Brunson’s number.
“It’s the lawyer,” I tell them, accepting the call. “Brunson, oh, my God. What’s going on?”
“Sol,” he says, sounding as tired as I feel. “Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I’ve been trying to detangle this mess.”
“When is he coming home? What exactly are they charging him with? What’s this about six million dollars? What the hell is going on?”
“Okay, one thing at a time. They’ll have an arraignment, if not tomorrow, then the next day, to set bail. If we can get bail. The prosecution will try to say Edward’s a flight risk.”
“A flight risk? Like he’d leave the country? He wouldn’t run.”
There’s a small silence on the other end before Brunson goes on. “As far as the charge, it’s embezzlement. And yes, they are saying it’s in the neighborhood of six million dollars, so it’s a felony.”
My knees give out, and I sink to the ottoman in the center of the room.
“I don’t… I don’t understand. From CalPot? CalPot is accusing him of this?”
“Yeah, apparently some guy they hired, this new director of accounting, used to be a hotshot forensic accountant. He’s the one who found it. Or presumably. Of course, Edward denies it.”
Judah Cross. My teeth grind together. He did this to my family, and I let a little attention and conversation distract me from the threat he could prove to be. Edward tried to warn me.
“So is it too late for Edward to get his call or whatever?”
“What do you mean?” Brunson asks, confusion in his voice. “He did make his call.”
“But he didn’t… I haven’t heard from him.”
The silence on the other end thickens with speculation and maybe understanding. Instead of using his one call to phone home and reassure his wife, tell his family what the hell was going on, Edward called someone else. Someone who is not his lawyer.
I close my eyes, futilely trying to block out the crushing reality of my circumstances. When I open my eyes again, bracing for the next blow, Yasmen and Hendrix are sweeping up the dirt and glass, righting the cushions. Fresh tears prickle my eyes. I don’t know what is going on with Edward, and he apparently didn’t see fit to call and tell me. Everything with him feels like shaky ground right now, but some things I can count on. My daughters and my friends.
“We have a big day tomorrow,” Brunson finally says, his voice kind, compassionate. God, maybe even pitying. “Get some rest and we’ll attack in the morning.”
“Yeah.” I split a wobbly smile between my two best friends, who send me a smile in return. “In the morning.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SOLEDAD
Mom, we’re outta milk!” Lupe calls from the kitchen.