“I’m starting to appreciate boring procedures.”
She smiled back.
“Sometimes boring is good.”
My temporary identity documentation was being processed.
My bank had frozen the disputed transfers.
Rachel had begun the legal process concerning the joint accounts.
And Martin had arranged for someone from the company to meet me once I was ready to travel.
But I still had one question.
“What happened to Greg?”
Martin hesitated.
“He contacted the bank.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“What did he say?”
“He claimed you had authorized the transfer.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course he did.”
“He also claimed you had agreed to remain in Thailand.”
I looked at the hotel room.
The missing passport.
The stolen phone.
The canceled ticket.
The notes.
Everything suddenly looked less like abandonment and more like a carefully constructed story.
Greg wanted everyone else to believe I had simply chosen not to return.
Rachel called later that afternoon.
“Clare, there’s something you need to know.”
Her voice was unusually serious.
“The $117,400 wasn’t being used for Ashley’s townhouse.”
