CHAPTER 185: The Recording

POV: Avalon Pierce

He called Robert Chen at ten that night because he had contacts in places Margaret didn’t and who answered his phone at ten PM without complaint because he understood that some calls didn’t wait for business hours.

“I need to know who was at the Herbst Theatre tonight who shouldn’t have been,” Avalon said. “Specifically someone recording Selene’s speech and why he left immediately after she finished.”

“Description,” Robert said.

Avalon looked at Selene across the bedroom. She was feeding Elena, listening, her eyes on him with the focused attention she gave things she was working through internally.

“Rachel saw him,” Avalon said. “He is in his forties', he wore a dark  jacket and she said he was specifically recording Selene, not the general ceremony.”

“Give me until morning,” Robert said.

“Earlier if you can,” Avalon said.

He hung up.

Selene looked at him.

“It could be nothing,” she said.

“You don’t believe that,” he said.

“No,” she admitted. “But it could be.”

“Who would want to record you specifically,” he said.

“Anyone who wants leverage,” she said. “The speech was personal. Elena. The first Elena. The displacement bonds. Everything I said was true but it’s all usable out of context.”

“Usable how,” he said.

“Make it look like the foundation is built on personal grief rather than structural change,” she said. “Undermine the credibility and suggest  the whole thing is emotional rather than substantive.”

“Henderson,” he said.

“Henderson is done,” she said.

“His network isn’t,” he said.

She looked at Elena.

“I put Elena in that speech,” she said quietly. “Both of them. I put them both in it and someone recorded it.”

“We don’t know what they recorded it for,” he said.

“No, at least not yet,” she said. 

Robert called at seven the next morning.

Avalon was already awake. Elena had opinions about 5 AM that she’d been expressing at volume and he’d taken her so Selene could sleep for two hours and was sitting in the nursery in the chair that held, watching his daughter look at the morning light coming through the window he’d chosen, when his phone buzzed.

“The man at the theatre,” Robert said. “His name is Philip Cross. He’s a private investigator based in Sacramento. He’s worked for three clients in the past two years that I can document.” He paused. “The first is Henderson Capital.”

“Henderson,” Avalon said.

“The second is a law firm that represents several of the original Pierce Holdings investors from the displacement bond era,” Robert said. “People who are worried that the foundation’s acknowledgment opens them to civil liability.”

“And the third,” Avalon said.

“The third is the interesting one,” Robert said. “A private individual. The billing address is a PO box but I traced it.” Another pause. “It’s Patricia Ruiz.”

Avalon went completely still.

“Patricia?” he asked.

“Yes,” Robert said.

“She’s on the oversight committee,” Avalon said.

“I know,” Robert said.

“She told us about her father,” Avalon said. “And she’s been trying to fix this for twenty years.”

“I know what she told you,” Robert said. “I’m telling you what I found.”

He didn’t tell Selene because in the previous forty eight hours, she’d only had two hours of sleep and Elena was finally settled and she needed the rest more than she needed this right now.

He told her at nine when she came to the kitchen looking more human than she had at 5 AM.

She listened, poured coffee and listened more.

When he finished she was quiet for a moment.

“Patricia hired the same investigator as Henderson,” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean the same purpose you know,” she said.

“No,” he said.

“She could have hired him to monitor whether Henderson was coming after the foundation again,” she said. “To protect us.”

“Or she could have hired him for something else entirely,” he said.

“You don’t trust her,” she said.

“I trust what she told us,” he said. “I don’t know yet if those are the same thing.”

Selene looked at her coffee.

“Call her,” she said.

“I was going to,” he said.

“Don’t call her,” she said. “Go see her in person, today.”

“And you?” he asked.

“Elena and I will be fine,” she said. “Maya is coming at ten.”

“Maya is coming at ten,” he repeated. Like this was unsurprising.

“I called her an hour ago,” Selene said. “While you were with Elena.”

“You already knew what I was going to tell you,” he said.

“I knew something,” she said. “I could see it on your face when you put the phone down last night.”

He looked at her.

“You didn’t say anything,” he said.

“You needed to tell me in your own time,” she said. “There’s a difference between knowing you’re keeping something and giving you space to say it.”

“That’s a fine line,” he said.

“I know where the line is,” she said. “I live with you.”

He crossed the kitchen and kissed her.

She kissed him back with the specific warmth of someone who had four weeks of built-up evidence that they were very glad to be in the same room as this person.

“Go,” she said against his mouth. “Find out what Patricia was doing.”

“In a minute,” he said.

“Avalon.”

“In a minute,” he said again.

She laughed.

He’d been collecting it for two years and it still undid him every time.

Patricia Ruiz lived in Noe Valley in a house that had been there long enough to look like it belonged.

She opened the door before he knocked, like she’d been expecting him.

“Come in,” she said. “I know why you’re here.”

He followed her to the kitchen. She poured him coffee without asking and set it in front of him before  seating  across from him and looked at him directly.

“Philip Cross,” he said.

“Yes,” she said.

“You hired him,” he said.

“Yes,” she said.

“Why?” he asked.

She wrapped both hands around her cup.

“Because six weeks ago someone contacted me anonymously,” she said. “They said they had information that would damage the foundation’s credibility. Information about Selene specifically. Something about her past.” She looked at him. “They wanted money, a whole lot, about two hundred thousand dollars or they’d release whatever they had.”

The kitchen was very quiet.

“Someone was blackmailing you,” he said. “To damage Selene.”

“To damage the foundation through Selene,” she said. She looked at her cup. “I hired Philip Cross to find out who was making the threat before I came to you because I didn’t want to come to you with something I couldn’t prove.”

“How long have you known,” he said.

“Six weeks,” she said.

“Patricia,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “I should have told you immediately.”

“Six weeks,” he said again.

“I know,” she said. “I was trying to protect you.”

“By managing information?” he said.

She looked at him.

Something in her expression shifted.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Exactly like that.”

He sat with it.

“Did Cross find out who it was,” he said.

“Last night, after the speech. That’s why he was there. He was following the person making the threat.” She reached into the folder on the table between them and slid a  photograph across. “He got this.”

Avalon looked at the photograph.

His blood went cold.