Only the new one would help his career. She was the daughter of a state Supreme Court justice.”
“Did the divorce ever get to court?”
Grace snorted.
“You had a lawyer, didn’t you?”
“Legal aid,” she said and, when Jay frowned, added, “I had no money. Carter cut off credit cards, bank accounts, everything.”
“So how did you get away with Chris?”
She folded her arms, and, for the first time, I saw an inkling of pride. “I might have been naive about how far he would go to annihilate me, but I’m not stupid. I told you I dreamed about leaving. Well, it wasn’t all fantasy. While he was piecing together damning evidence, I was putting together documentation under an alias. Part of my backup was a stash of money. I kept adding to it, and it was never huge, but it was there when I needed it.”
I was in awe. “How did you know how to get documentation?” It was such a ballsy Grace thing to do, one I would never in my life, not even in my darkest moments, have dared.
“Immigrants,” she said. “They were all over Santa Fe, even undocumented ones on our property, and they had always liked me. I talked with them. Most employers didn’t. So they shared. I was safe with them. For obvious reasons, they avoided the authorities.”
I was thinking that as zany as she was, she could be remarkably resourceful, when Ben said, “So you and Chris left it all behind.”
Grace smiled then. It was the first wide honest-to-goodness Grace smile that had come from her in days. “Not all of it. Carter wasn’t the only one who gathered evidence, only mine was legit.”
She stopped talking. Her smile faded as we watched, replaced by a look of pure … evil was the word that came to my mind, only I couldn’t find fault. What I saw had to do with backbone and intent, with revenge, with justice.
“We’re waiting, Grace,” Jay prompted, as only the lawyer could.
“I couldn’t prove that he hit me,” she said. “There were no hospital records, and selfies wouldn’t prove anything. He could talk his way around abuse. Not consumer fraud, though. He regularly turned back odometer readings and sold used cars as having significantly less mileage than in fact they did.”
“Spinning?” Ben asked in surprise.
“Yup.”
“That’s a heavy charge,” Jay cautioned. “Can you back it up?”
“I have papers.”
“What kind of papers?” Ben asked, coming back from the window.
Staying him with a hand, Jay asked Grace, “Originals or copies?”
“Originals,” she replied. “Records of used car sales, done in pairs, one legit, one doctored, same VIN.”
Edward was looking as stunned as the rest of us. “Why would he do that? Why would he allow proof like that to exist?”
“Stupidity?” Grace asked. “Ass-hood? He showed them to me right after we were married, like he wanted me to know how smart my husband was. It was really just one guy, the head of the service department. He’d go in after hours to do his thing. Turned out, he had a gambling habit. Carter helped him in exchange.”
“Carter told you this?” Jay asked.
“Oh yeah. Proudly. Like he was a good guy to be helping one of his men. Like that made what he was doing okay. Like I wouldn’t even realize that any of it was illegal.” She smiled her evil smile. “That was his first mistake.”
“How did you get the papers?”
“He had a home office where he kept his private files. They were locked up, but he took the key from its hiding place while I was standing right there. Like I wouldn’t dare do anything about it.” She huffed. “That was his second mistake.”
“How many more mistakes?” Edward asked. He seemed less tense now. Physical proof was a bargaining tool, and while Grace was still in big trouble, apparently so was her ex.
“Well, let’s see,” Grace was answering Edward, “his third was leaving me home alone so much. His fourth was not having a surveillance camera in that office. His fifth was turning odometers back on so many cars for so many years that my taking a handful of records would never be noticed.” She paused only to look expectantly, demandingly, from Jay to Ben. “Okay. That’s my story. What happens next?”
“We see those papers,” said Ben.
“I see them,” Jay corrected. “At least with me, there’s lawyer-client privilege.”
“I said I wouldn’t write her story, but I have to corroborate it first,” Ben argued. “Once I’ve seen those papers, I can bargain behind the scenes.”