Found Money - James Grippando [64]
Brent called from the living room. “Who is it, Sarah?”
She was reading from a document as she walked from the foyer to the living room. “I don’t know who that was. But he just left us a subpoena.”
“A subpoena?”
“Yeah. It’s from Ryan’s divorce case. Looks like it’s from Liz’s lawyer. Issued to Brent Langford. You are hereby commanded to appear for deposition—”
“Deposition!” He jumped up and snatched the subpoena from her hand. He stared at it for a moment, then threw it on the couch. “Damn, I don’t want to give no deposition. What did you take that thing for?”
“I didn’t know what it was.”
“Well, dumbshit, did you even think to ask?”
“He said it was from the sheriff.”
“If he had said it was from the president, would you believe him? Don’t answer that. You probably fucking would.”
Sarah took a step back, wary of his tone. “Just calm down, okay? It’s no big deal. I’ll talk to Ryan and find out what this is all about.”
“It’s about money, you idiot. It’s all about Liz trying to get her hands on my money. Why didn’t you just slam the door in that guy’s face? Just slammed it!” He went to the door and slammed it so hard the windows rattled. “That’s all you fucking had to do!”
“How was I to know?” she said timidly.
“Common sense, that’s how. If you had any.”
Her eyes welled with tears. It was a cumulative emotion. Anger. Frustration. Fear at the thought of Brent as the father of her child.
“Oh, stop your sniveling, woman.”
“Maybe—maybe I can get Ryan to cancel the deposition.”
“Just stay the hell out of it. You screwed things up enough already.” He went back to the couch, moving the car brochures aside with care. “I’ll handle this myself. This is one deposition they ain’t never gonna forget.”
30
It was getting late on Colorado’s Front Range. Clouds drifted across the night sky in long, tattered strands, as if shredded by the mountaintops on their journey toward Boulder.
Amy watched in silence from the balcony off her bedroom. She was alone for the night. Gram and Taylor were staying with a neighbor for a few days, until they could replace the sliced-up mattresses and other busted furnishings. Amy had been cleaning up their ravaged apartment all afternoon, working into the evening. Little was salvageable. The insurance adjuster had come and gone hours ago. The check would come in a few days, he’d promised, though it wouldn’t help much. Most of the furniture was much more than ten years old and had almost zero depreciated value. For what it was worth, the adjuster seemed to agree with the detective’s assessment. This was no simple burglary. Someone had wanted to send her a message.
The question was, what was the message?
All her life, Amy had been exceptional at solving problems of any kind, from calculus to crosswords. Ever since she’d opened the box of money, however, she’d felt completely clueless. She hated that helpless feeling, that inability to figure things out. She’d felt that way only once before in her life. Many years ago.
Right after her mother died.
“Amy, you okay here tonight?” It was Gram.
Amy was leaning on the balcony rail. She glanced over her shoulder, back into the bedroom through the sliding glass door. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Taylor asleep?”
Gram joined her on the balcony. “Like a log. I just wanted to come up and see how you were doing, check on things.”
“Not much to check on, is there?”
“Aww, forget it. I’ve been meaning to get rid of a lot of all this old junk anyway. We’ll be fine.”
Amy smiled with her eyes. “What is that you used to tell me? Our guardian angel owes us one?”
Gram smiled back. “It’s been a long time since I said that. That’s quite a memory you have there.”
“I don’t forget much. Just certain things.”
Gram looked at her with concern, as if she sensed what her granddaughter had been thinking. “Amy, darling. When something bad happens, it’s natural to think back on the past, to other sadness.”
She nodded, looking up to the sky. “I can see Vega.”
“Where?”
“Right overhead. It’s the brightest star in the constellation of Lyra. See