Chapter 16 - Luke Goes Back Under the BedA year later, Luke returned to the Aspen mansion.
Not for Diane.
Not for Graham.
The house was being sold.
Graham had finally convinced family trust to dispose.
Too much house.
Too much history.
Luke asked if he could retrieve one thing.
Graham knew what.
The tie clip.
Luke had misplaced it again the night everything happened.
He thought he took it.
Apparently he dropped it.
Somewhere.
Graham met him at the house.
They searched bedroom.
Dresser.
Carpet.
No clip.
Luke looked at bed.
“No.”
Graham laughed.
“What?”
“I’m not going under there.”
“You’re twenty-seven.”
“That’s not the problem.”
Graham smiled.
Luke eventually crouched.
“Flashlight.”
Graham handed phone.
Luke lifted bedcover.
Dust.
A forgotten button.
One earring belonging to Diane.
No tie clip.
He got lower.
Then laughed.
“What?”
“You have no idea how horrible this view is.”
Graham sat on edge.
“I had some idea.”
“No.”
Luke slid partially beneath.
Not fully.
“Your shoes looked enormous.”
Graham laughed.
Luke reached.
“Found it.”
He came out holding silver clip.
V.M.
L.M.
His father’s.
Luke brushed dust away.
“Thanks.”
Graham nodded.
They sat in silence.
Then Luke asked:
“Did you know?”
“That night?”
“Before.”
“About me and Diane.”
“No.”
“Any suspicion?”
Graham thought.
“She changed her phone password.”
“That’s it?”
“She bought perfume.”
Luke looked guilty.
Graham waved.
“Not your problem anymore.”
“It is partly.”
“Yes.”
They had reached point where both could say things without pretending.
Luke said:
“I was angry at you before I met her.”
“I know.”
“She fed that.”
“I know.”
“I let her.”
“Yes.”
Luke smiled bitterly.
“You’re very comforting.”
“I’ve improved.”
They laughed.
Then Luke became serious.
“I’m starting a firm.”
Graham raised eyebrow.
“Finance?”
“Yes.”
“Brave.”
“Stupid?”
“Probably both.”
Luke smiled.
“What kind?”
“Recovery investments.”
“Distressed companies?”
“Mostly employee-owned transitions.”
Graham nodded.
“Victor would like that.”
Luke’s expression softened.
“Maybe.”
“Your mother?”
“She thinks finance is a genetic disease.”
“Also fair.”
Luke turned tie clip.
“I want to call it Mercer & Vale.”
Graham frowned.
“Vale?”
“Martin.”
“The accountant?”
“He died last month.”
Graham’s face changed.
“I didn’t know.”
“Cancer.”
“Sorry.”
“He left his daughters money from selling memoir rights.”
Graham almost laughed.
“Of course.”
Luke continued.
“He gave me copies of everything before he died.”
“Why Vale in firm name?”
“Because he kept evidence.”
“That’s a strange tribute.”
“Family specialty.”
They smiled.
Graham asked:
“Do you want investment?”
Luke immediately:
“No.”
Graham laughed.
“Good answer.”
“Maybe later.”
“Worse answer.”
Another laugh.
Then Luke looked at bed.
“Do you think Diane ever loved you?”
Graham paused.
“Yes.”
“Still?”
“Maybe.”
Luke looked surprised.
“Do you still love her?”
“Yes.”
“You say that easily.”
“It took a year.”
Luke nodded.
“I don’t know what I felt.”
“For Diane?”
“Yes.”
“Does it matter?”
Luke thought.
“Less.”
Good.
They stood.
Before leaving bedroom, Graham looked back.
Bed.
Window.
Dresser.
The room where his wife cheated.
But also where twenty-three-year-old financial crime began unraveling.
Life rarely chose appropriate stages.
Luke said:
“Graham.”
“What?”
“Why did you really come home early?”
Graham frowned.
“Charles canceled my meeting.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Luke looked at him.
“That’s why you left Denver.”
“Yes.”
“But why did you come straight to bedroom?”
Graham stared.
He had never told Luke.
“I got a message.”
“From?”
“Unknown number.”
“What did it say?”
Graham pulled out his phone.
He still had screenshot.
COME HOME.
GO UPSTAIRS.
DON’T CALL DIANE FIRST.
Luke stared.
“Who sent it?”
“We never found out.”
That mystery had remained.
Charles denied.
Margaret denied.
Helen denied.
Diane denied.
Pike denied.
Luke looked at message.
Timestamp:
5:41 p.m.
Someone knew Luke was in bedroom.
Someone wanted Graham to catch them.
“Could it have been Diane?”
Graham shook his head.
“She planned to leave.”
“Could be guilt.”
“Maybe.”
Luke stared at text.
Then noticed number.
Denver area code.
“Wait.”
“What?”
Luke enlarged screenshot.
“I know this number.”
Graham stared.
“Who?”
Luke’s face changed.
“It belonged to my father.”
Graham almost laughed.
“Victor’s been dead sixteen years.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
Luke whispered:
“My mother kept the number active.”
Graham went still.
“Helen sent it.”
May you like
Luke stared.
And suddenly his mother’s role in the night was not finished.
Related Stories
