Miles's Cash

The cash in Miles's lockbox smelled faintly of cedar.

Nora had never known money could smell like guilt until she counted it on Tessa's kitchen table while Sophie slept upstairs. Four thousand in old twenties and fifties. Not enough to disappear. Enough to buy time, bribe a clerk, or prove someone had already been paid.

Brooke photographed each bill's serial number.

"This came from a structured withdrawal," she said. "Not random savings."

"You can tell that from looking?" Tessa asked.

"I can tell it from the bank straps he left in the bottom."

Nora had missed them. Thin paper bands from Briar Glen Mutual, dated two weeks before Miles died. Account holder: Vale Family Foundation Review.

Nora sat down slowly.

"He took money from Judith."

"Or Judith paid him," Brooke said.

"Do not make that sound the same."

"It may be worse than both."

The words landed softly because Brooke meant them softly. Nora hated that too. Kindness from the investigator made suspicion harder to organize.

Tessa put tea down in front of Nora, though none of them were tea people. "Maybe he was buying evidence."

"Maybe he was taking hush money," Nora said.

Sophie padded into the kitchen, hair wild, Miles's sweatshirt dragging at her knees.

"Mom?"

Nora swept the cash into the lockbox too late. Sophie saw enough. Her face changed in the way children's faces changed when adults failed to keep adult things adult.

"Was Dad bad?"

No one moved.

Nora wanted to say no. She wanted to give Sophie the clean father childhood deserved. Instead she pulled her daughter into her lap.

"Dad lied about things," she said. "We are finding out why."

Sophie rested her head against Nora's shoulder.

"He said if Grandma gave me papers, I should ask you first."

Brooke looked up sharply.

"When?" Nora asked.

"The day before he crashed."