She said, “Pretty soon after Adam and I started dating, Fuller’s secretary told me to come in. ‘This day, at this time, don’t discuss it with anyone.’ I’m having a heart attack. Why do I need to talk to the family lawyer? When I get there he’s all stick up the butt, ‘Lah-di-dah, I’m in charge.’ He starts handing me papers to sign. One is like a, a — prenup. I’m like, ‘Uh, okay.’ I mean, I liked Adam a lot, I was starting to develop feelings. But it had only been a couple of months. We weren’t getting married. I asked why I had to sign it. He smiled at me in this super-condescending way, like I asked him where babies come from. Said individuals in Adam’s situation had to be protected, and if I really cared about him, I’d understand. He also had a paper that said I couldn’t tell anyone about our meeting.” A nervous titter. “I’m probably breaking it now.”
“Did you sign?”
“Yeah. I mean. I don’t know how these things work. Then he starts asking questions. How much money do I make? Do I have credit card debt? Student loans? Have I ever had a bankruptcy? Have I ever been arrested?”
“You answered.”
“I thought I had to. ’Cause of the... It just went on and on,” she said, “getting really invasive. Had I ever cheated on a boyfriend. Was I on birth control, what kind, did I have any STDs, did I ever have an abortion. My head was spinning.”
“Intense,” I said.
“Beyond intense.”
“Were you angry?”
“At him?” She thought. “Was I angry...? Honestly, I don’t think so. It’s not coming from him. He’s a servant. It’s Rick and Liz.”
“Were you angry at them?”
“I just wanted to get it over with.”
“What happened next?”
“Nothing. I answered the questions and then Fuller said I could go.”
“Okay,” I said. “Returning to that conversation with Adam, where he confessed about Fuller. Except for that one instance, he didn’t tell you who he hooked up with.”
“Yeah. I mean, no, he didn’t.”
“Did you ever notice a name on his phone?”
“Uh-uh. I mean, he had a lot of people on there. Clients, I figured.”
“I can try giving you a name. Maybe it’ll jog your memory.”
She shrugged. “I doubt it. But: yeah, go ahead.”
“Damian Roby.”
“No idea who that is.”
“What if I show you his picture?”
“Why? I never met any of them.”
“Besides Fuller.”
“Well, yeah, besides him.”
“Just take a peek,” I said.
An exasperated smile. She leaned in briefly, shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Thanks for humoring me. I get why you’re reluctant to talk to the police. I’d probably feel the same way. I do have to tell you that this information has the potential to affect their investigation.”
She started. “Please don’t say anything.”
I felt no obligation to level with Livvy the Liar. “Okay.”
“Please. To anyone. You can’t... Promise me you won’t.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I just... I’m scared.”
“Of?”
She said, “What if Fuller... you know, he’d be someone with a lot to hide.”
“In the last year, has he had any contact with you?”
“Uh-uh.”
“But you’re worried he could harm you.”
“I mean, look what happened to Adam.” She drew her knees to her chest, clutching the voice recorder in one bloodless hand. “I’m nobody.”
Chapter 25
Regina was in her car, playing Scrabble on her phone.
I climbed into the passenger seat. “You gotta hear this.”
“I did.” Big grin. “Well played, Poirot.”
I stared. The grin widened.
I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets, feeling the voice recorder, wallet, phone, keys...
Something sharp jabbed me in the finger.
I yanked it out: thin plastic square, the size of a postage stamp, equipped with a SIM card. “You have got to be kidding.”
“Pretty slick, huh?”
“You wired me?”
“Reverse pickpocket,” she said. “The old hug-n-bug.”
“I knew something was wrong when you were nice.”
“Take a chill suppository. Now you don’t have to repeat yourself. I got her on tape. And careful with that thing, it costs like six hundred bucks.”
“I should break it in half.”
She cackled. “Iwweeeegal.”
I phoned Fuller, Gilligan & Fuller, LLC, the moment they opened on Monday. Shelby IV’s PA tried to put me off but I insisted her boss would want to speak to me.
She gave me a choice: three p.m. today or eight a.m., six weeks out.
“Today works.”
“Mr. Fuller will meet you in the clubhouse at Rancho El Bosque.”
“If he can please bring along copies of everything he has on Adam Valois. Emails, letters, notes. Invoices, too.”
“I’ll pass your request along to Mr. Fuller.”
Again I texted my mom and asked her to pick up the kids; again I set out on 880 South. The freeway landmarks had become distressingly familiar, and I felt deep empathy for folks who made the commute twice a day.
Do you know the way to San Jose?
I do. It’s through gridlock.
At the country club gate, the same guard made the same show of scrutinizing me and my car.
The valets were cheerfully indifferent.
The clubhouse hostess said, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Edison.”
In the private dining room, Shelby Fuller IV sat at the mahogany table. New retro golf outfit: cranberry shirt over lime pants. Fresh carafe of iced tea. One glass.
I said, “Thank you for meeting on short notice.”
Shelby Fuller IV said, “You’re welcome,” without meaning it.
“Did you get my message?”
“Copies of the Valois communications.”
“If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.” He tugged out a purple thumb drive, placing it on the table in front of him. “Although I’d like to understand why you want them.”
“Lets me see who you’ve spoken to, so I’m not reinventing the wheel.”
“You could have asked for that a month ago.”
“I was still getting my sea legs.”
Fuller grasped the carafe by the neck. “How would you say you’re faring, overall?”
“Making progress. I did have some follow-up questions.”
He poured, sipped. “Be my guest.”
“You grew up with Kirsten and Adam.”
“You’re asking because...”
“Bigger picture.”
“Mm,” he said. “I wouldn’t say ‘grew up.’ We didn’t socialize independently. They went to Pinewood, I went to Harker. I saw them when our families got together. Holiday parties, or club events.”
“Who were you friendlier with?”
“If you’re asking who I found it easier to relate to, Kirsten, no question. She was closer in age, we had the law thing in common. She spent a summer interning for my dad. He wrote her a recommendation for NYU.”
“How did she and Adam get along?”
“Well. At least it always seemed that way to me.”
“She told me she felt excluded after Adam went missing.”
“I was following my clients’ instructions.”
“Rick and Liz told you to keep her out of it?”
“Not in so many words. But I could read between the lines.” Fuller smiled. “It’s a survival skill. Perhaps you’re familiar.”
I smiled back. “What reason would there be to exclude Kirsten?”
“You’ve spoken to her. She’s a rather strong personality.”
“Another lawyer,” I said.
“If you like.”
“Was that a relief to you?”