Chapter 8 - THE MISTRESS WHO DISCOVERED SHE WAS DISPOSABLE
Celeste Pryor had helped Graham put me in the Atlantic.
She had stood above me while I begged for my life.
She had crushed my fingers with a six-hundred-dollar shoe.
And now I was considering showing her evidence that might save her from the man she had chosen over me.
The unfairness made me furious.
Nora watched me pace across Dad's office.
"Why should we help her?"
"We aren't helping her."
"Then what are we doing?"
"Giving her a reason to tell the truth."
Nora folded her arms.
"What if she warns Graham?"
"Then we'll know exactly where she stands."
Rebecca had already contacted Detective Ortiz.
The investigators wanted to confront Celeste with the alternate publicity statement themselves.
Because the file had been obtained during an active investigation, Rebecca warned me not to circulate it privately.
I agreed.
The days of making emotional decisions without thinking about consequences were over.
Still, there was one thing I insisted upon.
"If Celeste agrees to talk, I want her to hear what happened to me from my mouth."
Rebecca considered that.
"Only if the investigators and her attorney agree. And only if you're comfortable."
I looked down at my healing hand.
"I'm not comfortable."
Then I looked at Dad's photograph.
"But I'm ready."
Celeste agreed to meet two days later.
She arrived at a conference room in Rebecca's office with an attorney, wearing plain black trousers and a cream sweater.
No diamond earrings.
No carefully styled curls.
No white Italian heels.
Her face looked exhausted.
For a moment, I barely recognized the woman from the yacht.
Detective Ortiz sat across from her.
Celeste had already been advised of her rights and had chosen to speak through counsel.
I was there with Rebecca's permission, but I wasn't conducting the interview.
When Celeste saw me, she went rigid.
"Maren."
I said nothing.
Ortiz placed a copy of the alternate statement on the table.
Celeste read it.
Her expression changed slowly.
First confusion.
Then disbelief.
Finally, something that looked like genuine fear.
"He wrote this?"
Ortiz answered.
"The file originated with Graham's publicity firm."
Celeste read the paragraph describing her supposed attack.
"He was going to say I acted alone."
Nobody answered.
Her fingers tightened around the paper.
"He promised we would be together."
I almost laughed.
Instead, I said, "He promised me that for nine years."
Celeste looked up.
For the first time, she couldn't meet my eyes.
"He told me your relationship was over."
"Then why was I wearing his engagement ring?"
She stared at my left hand.
The ring was gone.
I had given it to Rebecca to preserve with my belongings from the yacht.
Celeste swallowed.
"Graham said you were refusing to accept the separation."
"He was sleeping beside me. We were planning a wedding."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"Don't use that word yet."
She looked startled.
"You don't get to apologize for an affair as though that's the worst thing you did."
Silence filled the room.
I leaned forward.
"You watched me hanging above forty feet of water. You could have helped me."
Celeste began crying harder.
"You have no idea what he was like when he got frightened."
"I know exactly what he was like."
She covered her mouth.
I continued.
"You put your heel on my hand."
Her shoulders shook.
"I know."
"And you pushed down."
"I know."
"Why?"
For a long time, she couldn't answer.
Finally, she whispered, "Because I wanted everything he promised me, and I was afraid he would take it away."
It wasn't an excuse.
But it was the first answer she'd given that sounded true.
Over the next several hours, Celeste began providing information through her attorney.
Some of it confirmed what we already suspected.
She had coordinated financial documents for Graham.
She knew Maren Vale's signatures had been copied.
She had authorized the removal of the yacht's boarding ladder.
And she understood, before the party began, that Graham intended to make my disappearance look self-inflicted.
But then she told us something new.
"Julian Rusk knew the trust wasn't available as collateral."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"How do you know?"
"Because I prepared the message Graham sent him after Frank Vale died."
Celeste explained that Rusk had refused to release additional financing without security.
Graham had promised him access to the machine-shop property and the Harbor Hands Fund.
"But Rusk asked whether Maren had consented," Celeste said.
"What did Graham tell him?"
"That he'd take care of the signatures."
"Did Rusk ask again?"
Celeste nodded.
"He said he didn't want another transaction delayed by a family disagreement."
Ortiz took notes.
"Do you have records supporting that?"
"Some."
"Where?"
Celeste looked at her attorney.
He nodded.
"Tell them."
"I kept copies on an encrypted drive."
"Why?"
Her expression collapsed.
"Because I was afraid Graham would eventually blame me for everything."
I stared at her.
Even while helping him steal from me, she had known he couldn't be trusted.
Yet she'd stayed.
Celeste looked down at the table.
"I thought if I kept enough evidence, he could never abandon me."
I remembered Graham calling me safe.
We had both wanted security from the same man.
I had tried to earn it through loyalty.
Celeste had tried to buy it through secrecy.
Neither approach could make a dishonest person trustworthy.
The evidence Celeste provided changed the investigation.
There were copies of financing instructions.
Internal spreadsheets.
Messages concerning the Harbor Hands Fund.
And a series of communications that showed Graham and Rusk discussing the value of Dad's waterfront property long before the forged transfers.
One message from Rusk stood out.
The harbor parcels must be free of the Vale restrictions before investor settlement. Do not contact Maren directly.
Rebecca read it twice.
"He knew you weren't being consulted."
Celeste nodded.
"He knew."
But there was still a problem.
Some of the investment money had already moved to accounts outside Maine.
The court's temporary restrictions had preserved certain assets, but the financial tracing was incomplete.
Rusk's company was preparing to enforce the disputed guarantees through a separate creditor proceeding.
If investigators and the court couldn't establish the fraud quickly enough, the financial damage could spread to the families Dad had promised to protect.
Eli calculated what the shop needed to survive the coming months.
Payroll.
Insurance.
Utilities.
Supplier balances.
It was more than I could cover from my own savings.
I looked at the list of employees and felt a familiar panic rising.
Then Nora placed her hand over mine.
"We'll figure out how to keep the doors open."
"With what money?"
"I can use my catering kitchen for evening jobs. Kate knows people who need equipment repairs. Aunt June's already asking around."
I stared at her.
"You don't have to risk your business."
Nora shook her head.
"I helped make this mess. I want to be part of putting it right."
For the first time, I believed she meant it.
That evening, Ortiz contacted us again.
Celeste had provided one more piece of evidence.
A recording.
She had made it secretly aboard the yacht before the investment celebration.
Her attorney had turned over the original device so investigators could examine the file and its metadata.
The recording was more than eleven minutes long.
It captured Graham discussing financial deadlines.
Julian Rusk could also be heard.
Celeste had kept the recording because she was frightened Graham would betray her.
She hadn't understood that it might one day help prove what happened to me.
Ortiz arranged for Rebecca and me to hear the relevant section at the police office.
I sat beside my attorney as the detective prepared the file.
The room was quiet.
My father's watch rested against my wrist.
It had been cleaned, but it still wasn't running.
I had brought it because I needed something familiar to hold onto.
Ortiz looked at me.
"Are you ready?"
I nodded.
She pressed play.
At first, there was only distant party music and the sound of glasses clinking.
Then Graham spoke.
His voice was calm.
Familiar.
The same voice that had once whispered goodnight beside me.
"The trust won't survive discovery. Once Maren gets an auditor involved, we're finished."
Julian Rusk answered.
"Then get her signature on the final release."
A pause.
Graham spoke again.
"She won't sign."
"Then you've got a serious problem."
Another pause.
May you like
Then I heard the words that made every person in that room go still.
"She can't survive tonight, Julian. The whole deal depends on it."
