Chapter 1: The Blue Tape
The first thing I noticed was my anniversary watch in Preston Hale’s hand.
The second was the blue tape on the black briefcase by his foot.
I had purchased that watch with money from the first successful contract my building company ever completed.
Allison had engraved the back with the words, We made it together.
Now her boss was turning it between his fingers as though it belonged to him.
He stood beside our bed wearing my navy bathrobe.
My wife remained beneath the white comforter with her eyes fixed on the wall.
The canceled flight had brought me home nine hours early.
I had imagined surprising Allison with dinner, not meeting the man who had spent three months promising to find the missing contractor checks.
Preston smiled when he saw me.
He said I was apparently better at paying bills than keeping a wife.
I asked him to put down the watch.
He laughed harder and placed it on the dresser without removing his fingers from the chain.
Allison whispered that we could discuss this later.
I asked what there was to discuss.
Neither answered.
I had known something was wrong with our marriage long before that afternoon.
What I had not understood was how closely the trouble in our house followed the trouble in my company.
A photograph of our wedding stood beside Preston’s elbow.
Its silver frame leaned against a stack of invoices I had brought home the previous night.
My mind moved between those objects with a strange, almost mechanical clarity.
I had been angry on airplanes and in traffic, but nothing in my life had prepared me for anger this quiet.
I told Preston his wife had called me.
He looked amused until I mentioned the missing payroll checks.
Then he reached for his briefcase.
I moved into the hallway and gave him a clear path to the door.
I did not intend to wrestle a man in my own bedroom.
I intended to understand why Rachel Hale had asked me not to open the envelope delivered to my office until she reached my house.
A car door slammed outside.
Allison moved toward the window and looked down at the driveway.
Rachel stood beneath the maple tree beside a woman carrying a portable scanner.
Preston’s briefcase tipped slightly as his grip tightened.
He told me I had no idea what was inside.
He was right about that.
I was also beginning to suspect that he had never known what was inside the envelope Rachel had sent me.
