“Holt cooperated?”
“Once he understood the scope of what we had, yes.
He provided documentation on four additional clients.” A pause.
“Your father did not cooperate.”
I looked across the table at Grandma.
She was holding her tea with both hands.
“Is there anything we need to do?” I asked.
“Not today.
I’ll call you tomorrow with the formal charge information.
The property transfer reversal paperwork will be filed by end of week.” Another pause.
“Mr.
Sterling — your grandmother handled herself with remarkable composure today.
Please tell her that.”
I hung up and looked at Grandma.
“They arrested him,” I said.
She set her cup down.
Looked at the table.
Looked at her hands.
“And Gerald?”
“Both of them.”
She nodded slowly.
Once.
“Grandma.
Are you all right?”
She didn’t answer immediately.
Outside, a car passed.
The refrigerator hummed.
“He was three years old,” she said, “when he got lost in a department store.
I was frantic.
I found him in the toy aisle, perfectly calm, playing with a train set on the floor.
He looked up at me and said, ‘I knew you’d find me, Mama.’” She stopped.
“I have been finding him his whole life.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I’m not going to find him this time,” she said.
“I can’t.”
“No.”
She picked her cup back up.
Took a sip.
Set it back down.
“Then I suppose that’s that,” she said.
My phone buzzed.
Wendy.
I answered.
“Ivan.” Her voice was raw.
“Is it true?
They arrested Arthur?”
“Yes.”
“Oh God.” A sound I couldn’t identify.
“Ivan, I didn’t know all of it.
I want you to know that.
I knew about the facility.
I agreed to that because Arthur told me she needed care.
But the money — the accounts — I didn’t know.”
“Wendy —”
“I should have asked more questions.
I know that.
I should have called you months ago.” She was crying now, quietly.
“Can I speak to her?
Can I speak to Eleanor?”
I looked at Grandma.
I held the phone out.
She looked at it for a long moment.
