Chapter 11 - The LogbookElise had not destroyed the logbook.
That became the first piece of luck Celine did not owe to Biscuit.
According to Detective Ortiz, Elise panicked after Bryce’s call.
She knew falsifying a notarial act could cost her commission and expose her to criminal charges.
But destroying the journal after being told to do so frightened her more.
So she hid it in her sister’s garage.
Inside was an entry for Celine.
The signature was not Celine’s.
The identification number did not match her driver’s license.
And the thumbprint box, normally used by Elise for certain high-risk transactions even when not strictly required, was empty.
“The lender may have caught this during final review,” Hannah said.
“May have?”
“We don’t rewrite what happened into something safer than it was.”
Celine nodded.
The attempt had not been guaranteed to succeed.
But Bryce and Nolan had believed it could.
That was enough.
Bryce finally hired an attorney.
After that, his direct messages decreased.
Then changed.
No more I love you.
No more please talk to me.
Instead:
All future communication should concern household logistics.
A day later:
I need access to retrieve personal belongings.
Hannah arranged a supervised time.
Celine almost refused to be there.
Then she decided she would not hide.
Bryce arrived Saturday morning.
A retired off-duty officer hired by Hannah’s firm stood in the foyer.
Bryce looked thinner.
Older.
But not broken.
He wore a navy jacket Celine had bought him for his thirtieth birthday.
Seeing it made her angry in a way the loan documents did not.
Small memories survived long after trust died.
He looked at Biscuit.
The dog did not run to him.
Bryce smiled sadly.
“Even you?”
Celine’s stomach tightened.
“Don’t use the dog.”
Bryce looked at her.
“Can we speak privately?”
“No.”
“Two minutes.”
“No.”
“Celine.”
Hannah stepped forward.
“Bryce, you’re here to collect clothing and specified personal items.”
He laughed.
“Thank you, Hannah.”
“You’re welcome.”
He walked upstairs.
Celine followed at a distance.
When he entered the bedroom, he stopped.
The wardrobe doors were open.
Celine had left them that way since the night of discovery.
She could not stand them closed.
Bryce noticed.
“You sleeping in here?”
“No.”
“You should.”
“It’s my room.”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
For a second, he sounded like the man she thought she married.
Then he walked to the closet.
Celine watched him pack shirts.
Shoes.
Watches that could be documented as his.
He avoided looking at the bed.
Finally he said, “Mara told you everything?”
“I don’t know what everything is anymore.”
“She’s lying about parts.”
“Which parts?”
“She knew more about the money.”
“Did she forge my signature?”
“No.”
“Did she hire Elise?”
“No.”
“Did she create Redhaven?”
“No.”
“She helped.”
“Yes.”
Bryce turned.
“You’re protecting her.”
Celine almost laughed.
“I fired her.”
His face changed.
Mara had technically remained an employee until that morning, partly because Hannah wanted employment records preserved and partly because Celine had been too overwhelmed to act.
Now the termination was formal.
“For cause?” Bryce asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Don’t look relieved.”
He closed a suitcase.
“She deserves consequences.”
“So do you.”
Bryce met her eyes.
“I know.”
That answer stopped her.
Not I’m sorry.
Not I made a mistake.
I know.
Celine asked, “Did you plan to leave without her?”
He looked down.
“The Scottsdale condo?”
His silence answered.
“Did Mara mean anything to you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
Celine laughed, stunned.
“She was in my wardrobe.”
His jaw tightened.
“She was an escape.”
The cruelty of it hit even Celine.
“Did you tell her that?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
Bryce zipped the suitcase.
Celine asked the question that had followed her since Julian arrived.
“Did you target me?”
Bryce stopped.
“Before the fundraiser.”
No answer.
“You and Nolan researched my mother’s property.”
“I research real estate.”
“You attended an event you’d never attended before.”
“So?”
“You asked Nolan about my house five months after we met.”
“We were serious.”
“You asked if Julian had a claim.”
Bryce turned toward her.
“Do you want me to tell you I never knew who you were?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t.”
The room went silent.
Celine’s heart seemed to slow.
“What does that mean?”
“I knew your name.”
“Before we met?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Nolan knew someone on the museum board. He mentioned you.”
“Why?”
Bryce looked exhausted.
“Because you were young, single, and inherited property.”
Celine had thought she was past being shocked.
She was wrong.
“So you did target me.”
“No.”
“You just described selecting me.”
“I knew who you were. That doesn’t mean I planned to marry you.”
“Why did you go to the fundraiser?”
“To meet you.”
Her eyes filled.
Bryce stepped forward.
“I fell in love with you.”
Celine backed away.
“You don’t get to rescue the story with that sentence.”
“It’s true.”
“You researched my house.”
“Nolan did.”
“You wanted to meet me.”
“Yes.”
“Because I was young, single, and owned property.”
“At first.”
There it was.
At first.
The phrase liars used when they wanted later feelings to absolve earlier motives.
Celine shook her head.
“You should go.”
Bryce picked up the suitcase.
At the doorway, he paused.
“There’s something Julian hasn’t told you.”
Celine’s face hardened.
“He already admitted hiring the investigator.”
“Not that.”
“What?”
Bryce looked toward the hallway where Hannah waited.
“Ask him why he offered me three hundred thousand dollars to cancel the wedding.”
May you like
Celine stared.
Bryce walked out before she could answer.
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