Chapter 11 - The Passenger Seat
The driver's name was Elliot Sloane.
He worked for Marlowe Bridge Finance and had once sold Brianna a luxury condominium she couldn't afford.
Ortiz did not claim that he had committed a crime merely by driving Diane's car.
She said he had reason to answer questions.
Investigators obtained clearer footage from a service station at the end of our street.
Elliot drove.
Diane sat in the passenger seat with her window open.
The camera didn't capture what she said.
Mrs. Alvarez's memory supplied the words, and Ortiz kept those two pieces separate.
Ryan watched the still image of his mother.
“She knew Brianna was at the house,” he said.
“Possibly,” Ortiz replied. “We're determining what she knew and when.”
She asked why Elliot would be there.
Ryan told her what he knew about Brianna's failed investment and the purported guaranty.
Naomi's investigator discovered that the loan originated from a real lending company but had been packaged by Elliot as a private, high-interest deal.
The guaranty had not been accepted as valid security.
That hadn't stopped Diane from using it to scare us.
“Then why the trust?” I asked.
“Because liquid cash would satisfy the immediate demand,” Naomi said. “The trust was the only place they imagined you had that much available.”
By evening, Sophie managed several breaths without as much support.
Lucas had gained three ounces.
I told them both about clouds over the hospital windows and the stubborn little plant Mrs. Alvarez brought for my room.
Then Ryan checked his messages.
His mother had sent a photograph of a cardboard box containing old family papers.
I have more of Emma's documents, she wrote. Maybe we should all talk before I give them to the police.
Ryan showed me the picture.
May you like
Inside the box, beneath a faded birthday card, lay a copy of my driver's license.
I'd never given Diane permission to keep it.
