Diane answered on the second ring.
“Josie?”
“Where are you?”
A pause.
“Home.”
“Stay there.”
“What happened?”
“I'll explain when I arrive.”
Another pause.
“Is Cal with you?”
“No.”
Her breathing changed.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
That answer frightened her.
I heard it.
“Josie, maybe you should come tomorrow.”
“No.”
“It's late.”
“I'm coming now.”
She was silent.
Then said, “All right.”
We left Laura at the apartment with Eric, who had driven down after the police finished their initial work at his office.
Laura gave me copies of the rejected affidavit and the altered loan documents.
The signature attributed to me was almost perfect.
Almost.
One letter in my surname curved the wrong way.
The same mistake appeared on the old checks.
Cal's mistake.
But the electronic submission had come from Diane's administrator account.
Martin drove alone again.
Stephanie came with me.
Nobody spoke much.
By the time we reached the Kincaid house, darkness had settled.
The Christmas lights were on.
That detail made me angry.
Three nights earlier I had sat inside that house believing the most uncomfortable subject at the table was a roof.
Diane opened the door before we knocked.
She saw Stephanie and stopped.
“You brought her.”
“Yes.”
Then she saw Martin.
Something passed between them.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
They had been expecting this moment eventually.
We entered.
The dining table had been cleared of Christmas decorations.
I stood where Cal had announced that my bonus belonged to both of us.
“Tell me about Northline.”
Diane sat.
She did not pretend ignorance.
That was almost a relief.
“I did bookkeeping.”
“For how long?”
“Seven months.”
“Why?”
“Cal needed help.”
“That seems to be the explanation for everything.”
She looked down.
“Did you use my identity?”
“No.”
“Your administrator account submitted documents with my forged signature.”
“I uploaded them.”
“That's using my identity.”
“I didn't forge anything.”
“Who gave you the documents?”
“Cal.”
“Did you know I hadn't signed?”
Silence.
Martin said, “Diane.”
She looked at him sharply.
“Don't.”
“Tell her.”
“I said don't.”
I stared at my mother-in-law.
“You knew.”
Her face crumpled slightly.
“I suspected.”
“That isn't enough.”
“I asked Cal.”
“What did he say?”
“That you had agreed but didn't want your name publicly attached.”
“And you believed that?”
“I wanted to.”
There it was.
Not belief.
Permission to avoid knowing.
“Why did you need my signature?”
“We didn't.”
“Laura says you did.”
Diane's eyes moved toward Martin.
“Laura.”
“You remember her?”
“Yes.”
“What happened after she refused the documents?”
Diane folded her hands.
“Marcus said the financing would collapse.”
“And?”
“Cal panicked.”
“And?”
“I submitted what he gave me.”
“With my forged signature.”
“Yes.”
I felt strangely calm.
“What did you personally gain?”
“Nothing.”
The anonymous message returned to me.
Why Diane needed your signature too.
“That's a lie.”
Diane looked up.
“I didn't take your money.”
“What did you take?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why was my credit needed?”
Martin sat across from her.
“Tell her about the house.”
Diane's face hardened.
“Martin.”
“What house?”
Neither answered.
I looked between them.
“The roof?”
Diane laughed once, bitterly.
“The roof is real.”
“I didn't ask whether it leaks.”
Martin said quietly, “The house wasn't ours anymore.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“We transferred it.”
“To whom?”
“Northline.”
Stephanie whispered, “Why?”
Diane looked at her husband.
“You promised.”
“Promises are why we're here.”
He turned to me.
“Northline bought our house eighteen months ago.”
“Why would Cal's company buy your house?”
“To create collateral.”
My stomach tightened.
“So the roof belongs to Northline.”
“Technically.”
“Then why were you discussing paying for it personally?”
“Because we still live here.”
“Who owns Northline now?”
Silence.
I already knew the answer would hurt.
“Who?”
Diane said, “On paper, you do.”
I stared at her.
“That isn't possible.”
“Your ownership was used to qualify the refinancing.”
“I never signed anything.”
“I know.”
My legs weakened.
I sat.
They had not merely borrowed using my identity.
They had assigned assets and ownership to me without my knowledge.
“Why?”
Martin answered.
“Because your credit was clean.”
Diane closed her eyes.
“And because if Northline failed,” I said slowly, “the debt could land on me.”
“No,” Diane said quickly.
“Then where?”
“The company.”
“A company I supposedly own.”
She had no response.
I understood the roof story now.
If I paid eleven thousand dollars toward repairs, the payment could later be framed as evidence that I knew I had an interest in the property.
Maybe that wasn't the original plan.
Maybe it was.
I no longer trusted coincidences.
“Did Cal tell you to bring up the roof at Christmas?”
Diane shook her head.
“I brought it up.”
“Did you know he would offer my bonus?”
“No.”
“Did you know he needed my bonus for Marcus?”
“Yes.”
Martin turned sharply.
“You told me you didn't.”
“I knew he needed money.”
“How much?”
“I didn't know.”
I stared at her.
“Why didn't you stop him?”
“He's my son.”
“And I'm what?”
Her eyes filled.
“My daughter-in-law.”
“That answer is exactly the problem.”
She looked down.
For years, I had interpreted Diane's loyalty as warmth.
Now I saw its boundary.
I belonged until protecting me conflicted with protecting Cal.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Did he contact you today?”
“No.”
“Your phone.”
She looked up.
“What?”
“Show me.”
“Josie.”
“Show me.”
She hesitated.
Martin held out his hand.
“Diane.”
She surrendered the phone.
There was a deleted message thread.
Recently deleted.
Cal.
I restored it.
His last message had arrived less than an hour earlier.
Did Dad give her the key?
Diane replied:
I don't know.
Cal:
Find out.
Then:
If she gets into the apartment before me, everything changes.
Diane had responded:
What is still there?
Cal:
Not over text.
I looked at her.
“You told him we were going.”
“No.”
“He knew.”
“I didn't tell him.”
“Who did?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
The anonymous sender seemed to know our movements.
Cal seemed to know some of them too.
Someone was connecting both sides.
I searched further.
An older thread mentioned the roof.
Diane:
Estimate came back 10.8.
Cal:
Don't pay yet.
Diane:
Why?
Cal:
I may have a way.
That was two weeks before Christmas.
My bonus had not arrived yet.
But Cal knew approximately what it would be.
I remembered telling him months earlier that company bonuses were expected to be stronger.
He had been planning around money I had not earned yet.
Then I found another exchange.
Diane:
You cannot keep using Josie's information.
Cal:
Last time.
Diane:
You said that before.
Cal:
If this closes, all of it gets cleaned up.
Diane:
And if it doesn't?
Cal:
Then I leave.
I stared at the date.
Seven months ago.
Cal had been contemplating leaving long before the suitcase.
Long before Christmas.
Maybe long before the Charlotte job.
“Did you know he planned to leave me?”
Diane looked devastated.
“He said temporarily.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I didn't know.”
I put the phone down.
“What else haven't you told me?”
She began crying.
Quietly.
I waited.
Eventually she said, “Emma isn't the reason he kept going to Charlotte.”
Stephanie stiffened.
“What does that mean?”
Diane wiped her face.
“There was another woman.”
The room went still.
I thought of Laura.
Blonde.
Short hair.
“No.”
Diane shook her head.
“Not Laura.”
“Who?”
“I don't know her full name.”
“Try.”
“Rebecca.”
My heart thudded.
“Rebecca what?”
“I don't know.”
“How long?”
“Two years, maybe longer.”
Stephanie stared at Diane.
“Cal had an affair?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“I saw them together.”
“Where?”
“At the apartment.”
“When?”
Diane swallowed.
“December fourteenth.”
Everything stopped.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
Martin stared at his wife.
“You told me you stayed home.”
“I followed you.”
He looked stunned.
“You followed me to Charlotte?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Cal called you panicking.”
I leaned forward.
“What did you see?”
“Rebecca leaving the apartment.”
“Before Laura?”
“After.”
“What did she look like?”
“Dark hair.”
Not the blonde witness.
A different woman.
“What happened?”
“She was angry. Cal followed her downstairs.”
“Did they touch?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Diane looked at me with pity.
I hated that expression.
“He kissed her.”
I looked away.
After everything else, adultery should have felt small.
It didn't.
Betrayal does not become painless simply because larger betrayals exist beside it.
“Did Rebecca know about me?”
“I don't know.”
“Did she know about Emma?”
“I don't know.”
“Who was she?”
“I heard Cal call her Becca.”
Stephanie suddenly went still.
“What?”
We looked at her.
She whispered, “Rebecca Vale.”
Diane's face changed.
“You know her?”
“No. But I know the name.”
“Who is she?”
Stephanie looked at me.
“Marcus's sister.”
The room seemed to contract.
The apartment.
The financing.
The affair.
The insurance.
The date.
Nothing had been separate.
I asked, “Why would Marcus keep lending money to a man sleeping with his sister?”
Stephanie shook her head.
“Maybe he didn't know.”
Martin said, “Marcus knew everything.”
We turned.
“How do you know?”
“Because that's why the debt changed.”
“What?”
Martin rubbed his forehead.
“After December fourteenth, Marcus stopped treating Cal like a borrower.”
“What did he treat him like?”
“A liability.”
I stared at him.
“Did Marcus threaten him because of Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“Then why keep doing business?”
“Because Cal knew things about Marcus too.”
“What things?”
Martin looked at Diane.
She looked away.
“What things?”
He answered quietly.
“Where the money came from.”
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
Rebecca is alive.
I hadn't realized until then that some part of me had assumed otherwise.
Another arrived.
And she is the person you need to find before Cal does.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: Rebecca Vale Was Alive, Hiding, and Holding the One Record That Could Separate Cal’s Crimes From Marcus’s
The Christmas Dinner Where My Husband Spent My Bonus Before I Had Even Decided What I Wanted
Part 10 of 31
