She didn’t say anything, but eventually shook her head no.

With a gesture, not words, I asked, why not?

“I didn’t want them to see me as a woman who needed to track her man.”

“Was it still working? When he died?”

“Yes.”

“Would it show where he was and where he went the night he died?”

“Yes.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

SPACE TO BE

Who Do You Want on Your Divorce Team?

Team Member No. 1: The Wealth Advisor.

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“YOU SAID WE WERE SAFE,” Maddie said. She sounded exactly like a woman at the customer service window at Bloomingdale’s who’d been told her warranty no longer applies.

I replied as if I was on the other side of the counter, patiently, courteously, telling her that she had voided the warranty. “Yes, we were safe. Provided that you hadn’t done things you hadn’t told me about.”

Her protest came out with a whine, “You promised me.”

“I need to know everything.”

“You put your arms around me and told me we were safe.”

Getting irritated, I said, “Where the fuck is your girlfriend.” Meaning Liz. We were there on Elizabeth’s schedule, in her offices—LIFE, Inc., Litigation Investment for Female Empowerment—a world under construction—half the pre-fab interior walls up, some waiting, much of the wiring done, but she wasn’t there.

For whatever reason, none of the work crews were there. Just us.

The full space was a large rectangle, deeper than it was wide. The plan for the offices was now quite visible. Double doors, for entry, were in the middle of the short side facing the interior of the building. Once you came through them—sometime in the near future—you’d meet the receptionist, at a nicely curved reception desk.

Looking ahead and to the right there were cubicles for fund managers and lawyers. Bathrooms were about halfway down that line. The women’s much larger than the men’s. As it ought to be. To the left, there was a conference room, the secure room, and Liz’s personal CEO corner office.

There were two places to wait. An unappealing, bare one, in front of the receptionist. Monied people would be escorted to an area behind her, hidden by a half wall, akin to one of the better airport lounges or an upscale coffee bar, with comfortable upholstered chairs, nice little tables, plants, reading material, snacks, and fancy coffee from a live barista.