Chapter 13 - THE WOMAN ON THE YACHT
Julianne eventually accepted a cooperation agreement.
She forfeited the bracelet.
The designer purchases.
Money David had transferred into an account for her.
Then she asked to meet me.
I refused twice.
The third request included four words.
I HAVE LILY’S DRAWING.
I agreed.
We met in Rebecca’s office.
Julianne entered carrying a clear evidence sleeve.
Inside was a folded page.
Purple crayon.
Blue waves.
A yellow sun.
At the center, three stick figures.
Mommy.
Daddy.
Lily.
My knees nearly failed.
“Where did you get that?”
Julianne whispered.
“David’s suitcase.”
I stared at her.
“He brought this?”
She nodded.
“He kept it in the inside pocket.”
I remembered the drawing.
Lily made it at school two weeks before David left.
She gave it to him after dinner.
“Why did you take it?”
“I didn’t.”
Julianne said.
“It fell out when investigators searched our luggage.”
She looked ashamed.
“Agent Reed said it belonged to the family.”
I took the sleeve.
For a moment, rage became impossible.
David had brought Lily’s picture onto the yacht.
He had carried his daughter in his suitcase while refusing to carry her voice in his ear.
That contradiction hurt more than simple hatred.
Julianne sat.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
I waited.
“The night your hospital called, I asked him if he should answer.”
My fingers tightened around the drawing.
“What did he say?”
“He said you always turned everything into a crisis.”
She cried quietly.
“I believed him.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted him to be telling the truth.”
That answer was more honest than any apology she had offered.
She continued.
“I wanted to believe you were the problem because otherwise I was sleeping with a man who abandoned his family.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“And then after he saw the ICU text, I asked if we should go home.”
My heart stopped.
“What did he say?”
Julianne looked down.
“He said if Lily was seriously ill, you would find a way to use it to ruin the trip.”
I closed my eyes.
There was no new betrayal left.
Only clearer versions of the old one.
Julianne reached for her purse.
“I recorded something later.”
“What?”
“David and Martin arguing.”
She handed Rebecca a drive.
On the recording, Martin said.
“You’re taking too much risk.”
David answered.
“After the sale closes, Maya won’t be able to do anything.”
Martin asked.
“What if she fights?”
David laughed.
“She’ll be too busy with Lily.”
The recording was made the same afternoon my daughter entered the ICU.
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He had counted on fatherhood distracting me.
He had no idea how terribly right he was.
