Chapter 4: The Man Waiting for My Husband to Disappear
“Who is Thomas Cole?””
Marcus asked the question a second time, and somehow the second time was worse.
The laptop sat open on the patio table. Beside it, the birthday cake remained untouched, its white frosting decorated with the words HAPPY 45TH, MARCUS in blue icing. A balloon had come loose from the fence and drifted across the grass, dragging its ribbon behind it.
Nobody bothered to catch it.
I stared at the email on the screen.
Thomas had written it three weeks earlier.
Once the money is secured, we need to know when Marcus will be out of the picture. I cannot keep waiting forever.
My reply appeared directly beneath it.
Soon. I promise.
Marcus turned away from the computer and looked at me.
“Tell me who he is.””
“He's a financial consultant.””
The lie came automatically.
Marcus glanced at Raymond.
“Do you know a financial consultant named Thomas Cole?””
Raymond shook his head.
“No. Should I?””
“No,” I said quickly.
“He's someone I met through a friend. He helped me understand some investment options.””
Marcus's mouth tightened.
“Then why does he want to know when I'm out of the picture?””
“He was talking about the business.””
“Which business?””
I had no answer.
Marcus tapped the trackpad, opening another email.
“Let's see what else your financial consultant has to say.””
“Don't do this,” I whispered.
He looked up.
“Don't do what?””
“Humiliate me in front of everyone.””
“You seem very concerned about humiliation for someone who was prepared to move nearly a million dollars out of our accounts.””
“Marcus, please.””
He turned back to the screen.
The next message was dated eleven days earlier.
Thomas had sent an attachment. Marcus opened it, revealing a spreadsheet listing our investment accounts, property values, insurance policies, and estimated assets.
At the bottom was a handwritten note scanned into the document.
After the transfer, we can finally start our life together.
Marcus stopped breathing for a moment.
Then he read the sentence aloud.
“After the transfer, we can finally start our life together.””
He looked at me.
“Your life together with Thomas?””
I could hear the humiliation in his voice, but beneath it was something that frightened me more.
He was beginning to understand.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Denise made a small, wounded sound.
“Danielle, how could you?””
I turned toward her.
“Stay out of this.””
“You told me you were going through a difficult time in your marriage. You never said you were planning to leave Marcus for another man!””
“I didn't owe you an explanation.””
“You borrowed money from me last month!”” Denise exclaimed.
“You said you needed it to pay a lawyer because Marcus was threatening to take away your access to the accounts.””
Marcus slowly turned toward me.
“You borrowed money from your sister?””
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
“I was trying to make sure I had options.””
“What options, Danielle?””
I wanted to scream at him that he had never understood what it felt like to be married to a man whose name appeared on every important document. I wanted to tell him that Thomas had promised me a life where nobody could make decisions for me.
But I knew how those words would sound.
So I reached for the one thing I had always relied on.
Marcus's sympathy.
“I was unhappy,” I said, allowing my voice to break.
“You were always working. Every conversation was about another building, another contract, another million dollars. I felt invisible.””
Marcus stared at me.
“You could have told me.””
“I did tell you!””
“You told me you wanted us to take a vacation. You told me you wanted to renovate the kitchen. You never told me you were having an affair.””
Tears filled my eyes.
“I didn't know how.””
Jordan stood beside his father, his face pale.
“You knew how to hide it,” he said.
I turned on him.
“Don't you dare judge me.””
“Mom, I saw the messages.””
“Because you went through my things!””
“Because I was scared you were going to hurt Dad!””
Marcus raised his hand.
“Enough.””
He stood, pushing the chair back so hard that its legs scraped across the patio.
“Danielle, I need to know exactly what you planned to do.””
“I was going to leave.””
“With Thomas?””
“Yes.””
“After stealing our money?””
“It wasn't stealing! I was protecting myself!””
“Then why forge my signature?””
The question landed like a blow.
I glanced at the document on the table.
“I thought you would never agree to the transfer.””
“Because it was my money.””
“Our money!””
“Then why did you need to forge my name?””
I had no answer that could save me.
Marcus looked toward Jordan.
“Son, is there anything else?””
Jordan hesitated.
“There was a message on her phone. I didn't read all of it, but I saw a notification from Thomas.””
My stomach tightened.
“What message?”” Marcus asked.
Jordan pulled out his own phone.
“I took a picture of it when Mom left her phone on the kitchen counter. I thought I might need proof.””
He held the screen toward his father.
The message was short.
If Marcus survives another month, we're finished. You said the powder would make him weak enough that nobody would question what happened.
Marcus read it silently.
Then he read it again.
He lifted his eyes to me.
“What does this mean?””
I couldn't speak.
He pointed at the phone.
“Danielle, what does this mean?””
“I didn't do anything to him!””
“Then explain the message!””
“I don't know what Thomas meant!””
“Did you give me something this morning?””
I looked at the shattered glass on the patio.
“Yes.””
“Was it supposed to make me sick?””
I covered my mouth.
Marcus took one step backward, as if being near me had suddenly become unbearable.
Jordan reached for his father's arm.
“Dad?””
Marcus shook his head.
“I'm okay.””
He wasn't.
I had never seen him look so lost.
Then his phone rang.
The name on the screen made him frown.
“It's my attorney,” he said.
He answered the call and walked several feet away, though everyone could still hear his side of the conversation.
“Hello, Patricia.””
A pause.
“Yes, I'm at home.””
Another pause.
His expression hardened.
“What do you mean, someone called the bank?””
He listened.
Then he turned toward me.
“Who tried to initiate an emergency transfer from my business account this morning?””
My blood went cold.
Marcus listened for several more seconds.
“Freeze everything,” he said.
“Every account you can reach. And Patricia, I need you to contact the police.””
I rushed toward him.
“Marcus, don't!””
He held up his hand.
“Not another word.””
When he ended the call, he looked at me with a coldness I had never seen before.
“The bank flagged a transfer for two hundred thousand dollars,” he said.
“It was scheduled for this afternoon.””
I shook my head.
“I didn't authorize that.””
“Your credentials were used.””
“Thomas must have done it!””
Marcus stared at me.
“Then why did he need you to tell him when I would be out of the picture?””
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Suddenly, Jordan's phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen, and the little color remaining in his face disappeared.
“Dad,” he whispered.
Marcus turned.
“What now?””
Jordan showed him the incoming message.
It came from an unknown number.
Tell your mother I know she showed you the video. If she hasn't finished the job, I'll come finish it myself.
For several seconds, Marcus didn't move.
Then he looked toward the street beyond our fence.
A black SUV had stopped in front of our house.
The driver's door opened.
And a man in a dark jacket stepped out, holding his phone to his ear.
Jordan recognized him first.
“Dad,” he said, backing away from the gate.
“That's Thomas.””
Marcus moved in front of his son.
Thomas looked across the lawn, found me standing beside the shattered glass, and smiled.
May you like
Then he raised his hand and waved.
As if he were arriving for a perfectly ordinary family gathering.
