Chapter 4 - The Scripted Breakdown
I slipped the USB drive into my pocket, closed my laptop, and stepped out of the office just as Beckett reached the top of the stairs.
He stopped, his perfect, white smile faltering for a fraction of a second before he recovered his composure.
"Evelyn," he said, slipping his hands into his tailored suit pockets. "I didn't expect you here. I thought you'd be nursing Clara through her... episode."
"I came to get her clothes," I said, keeping my posture relaxed, my voice entirely devoid of the absolute hatred radiating through my chest. "Since you froze her credit cards."
Beckett sighed, rubbing his temples in a theatrical display of exhaustion. "I had to, Evelyn. Last month, she wandered into the city and spent ten thousand dollars on jewelry she doesn't even remember buying. I'm trying to protect her from herself."
"By locking her out in the snow?"
"She ran out," he countered smoothly. "I tried to stop her. She was screaming about people watching her. Honestly, Evelyn, I'm at my breaking point. I've scheduled an evaluation for her at Mercy General this afternoon. They have an excellent psychiatric ward."
Mercy General. The hospital he donated a quarter of a million dollars to last year.
"She's fine where she is," I said, moving past him toward the hallway.
He caught my arm. His grip was tight, the polite veneer slipping just enough to show the absolute malice beneath.
"I am her husband," Beckett said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. "I have medical power of attorney. If you don't tell me exactly where she is right now, I will call the police and report you for kidnapping an unstable adult."
I looked down at his hand on my arm, then up at his eyes. "You can call whoever you like, Beckett. But I'd be careful about inviting the authorities into this house. The IRS tends to follow local police reports."
He let go of my arm as if he had been burned. The blood drained from his face, leaving him pale and rigid.
I didn't wait for his response. I walked down the stairs and out the front door, dialing my old partner, David, at the AG's office before I even reached my car.
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"David," I said as soon as he answered. "Pull the federal audit on Hale Medical Logistics. Beckett knows the feds are coming. He's making his final move today."
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