These Sorrows We See

by Schultz, Tamsen

  “But what about the faulty product?” Matty asked.

  Damian lifted a shoulder. “Their argument was that, yes, the product was faulty, but that it was a design flaw, an honest mistake. And because there was no obvious financial benefit to them, at least none that could be found, the defendants had no motive and therefore weren’t criminally at fault.”

  Matty frowned. “Uh, okay.”

  “Obviously, it didn’t work, since they are in jail,” Dash pointed out. Damian nodded then gestured for Charlotte to continue.

  “So, what I think,” Charlotte started again, after taking a sip of wine, “is that Brad knew what those people were doing, knew those people in the pictures were committing various kinds of fraud and ultimately hurting the people they were supposed to be helping, and he took exception.” Charlotte paused and glanced at Damian, who straightened away from the counter.

  “At Charlotte’s request, I looked into how those convictions were brought about.” Damian began. “And, in both cases, the evidence that kicked off the investigations came as anonymous tips. We pulled the original files and, sure enough, the evidence in those two cases was presented in a way similar to the information provided for the Irish case. In short, we think Brad was the one who originally discovered all the crimes, conducted his own investigations, and then provided us with what we needed to press charges and get convictions.”

  Matty frowned. “Okay, that sounds good, but what about the embezzling.”

  Charlotte let out a throaty chuckle; Damian cleared his throat and shot her a look.

  “I know, it’s totally inappropriate for me to actually respect what Brad did, but I can’t help it,” she said with a dismissive gesture to the agent.

  “And what did he do?” Dash asked.

  “All the people he investigated reaped tons of cash from the criminal activities at the expense of others. Brad just took some of that cash back.”

  “And gave it back to the people it was originally supposed to benefit,” Matty cut her friend off, with a look of recognition dawning on her face. Charlotte nodded.

  A little laugh escaped Matty, too. Then she looked a little sheepish. “I’m sorry, I know we’re not supposed to condone that, but given the background Charlotte and I have, I kind of agree with her. We don’t have much faith in the legal system considering the things we’ve seen, so it’s kind of nice to see someone stick it to the big dogs, so to speak.”

  “I’d like to point out that you are a big dog,” Dash said, half smiling.

  Matty rolled her eyes. “Only by the size of my bank account. So, let me get this straight.” She turned back to Charlotte and Damian. “Brad stole money from people who acquired it through illegal means then redistributed that money to the people it was originally supposed to benefit?”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “It’s definitely poetic,” Matty said. “But how did he do it? I don’t mean the embezzling part, but how did he redistribute the money?”

  “I don’t have all the details,” Charlotte started, “but from what I can tell, in New Orleans, several of the churches and organizations that were, in fact, providing housing and rebuilding the city—rebuilding to code, not just saying they were—received huge donations around about the time Brad was investigating them. In Haiti, the faulty water filter caused all sorts of problems, so he couldn’t just fix that.”

  “Didn’t they have a big outbreak of cholera several months after the earthquake?” Dash asked.

  Charlotte nodded. “There are a lot of diseases that can spread quickly and easily in unsanitary conditions. But by the time Brad figured it out, much of the equipment had been replaced, so in that case, he sent the money to medical relief agencies providing support to those who were still suffering from the earthquake and the resulting unsanitary conditions.”

  “And the Irish Mafia?” Matty asked, rounding out the list of people in the pictures.

  “Courtney Carol, the jockey, was a friend of Brad’s,” Damian said. “Once we knew who she was, we were able to go through her phone records, computer records, that sort of thing. We aren’t as certain with her as we are with the others, but what we think is that she provided information to Brad on the activities of the group.”

  “Which got her killed,” Matty guessed, sadness heavy in her voice. Charlotte nodded, and Dash finished her thought.

  “And Brad, being as big on justice as we now know him to be, took to investigating the information his friend provided in an effort to bring justice to her killers.”

  Damian inclined his head. “That is what we think,” he confirmed.

  “And it’s likely that the group he was investigating is the group that killed him?” Matty asked.

  Vivi nodded. “It’s certainly our best lead at this point.”

  “Did Brad steal any of their money?” Matty asked, and Dash wasn’t the only who heard the curiosity in her tone.

  Charlotte let out a small laugh; Damian rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to call her on it.

  “Yeah,” Charlotte continued, “he did. Courtney didn’t have any family to speak of, but she and Brad met through their work with a horse and animal rescue organization. An organization that recently received a substantial—”

  “And anonymous,” Damian cut in.

  “Donation,” Charlotte ended.

  For a long moment, the six of them sat and digested the information in silence, letting Matty process it all. Finally, she looked up, let out a long breath, then smiled. “Well, again I have to say, it’s poetic. So what now?”

  “Now,” Ian said, placing his empty beer bottle on the counter. “We wait until after the raid, see what Damian’s team finds in the aftermath, and use that information to see if we can figure out just who killed your brother.”

  Matty nodded, then her brow furrowed as if she’d just remembered something, “What about the knife I found after the storm?” she asked. “Wasn’t there a print on it?”

  Ian nodded. “There was and it matches a print found on a similar weapon used in a knife fight in New York City last year, but whoever’s fingerprint it is isn’t in the system.”

  “So kind of like DNA—on its own it’s not going to do you any good, but if you have something to compare it to, it could be useful?” Matty asked. Both Vivi and Ian nodded.

  “All right then, so I sit around and wait. When is the raid?”

  Damian gave the room an inscrutable look.

  “Can’t say?” Dash asked.

  Damian lifted a shoulder, “Soon.”

  The only response they were going to get.

  Matty let out a little huff. “Well, is there anything I can be doing?”

  “No,” Damian and Ian both said.

  Matty arched a brow then looked at Dash. He just shrugged.

  “I have something you could do,” Vivi said.

  “Vivienne,” Ian warned.

  “Oh stop, Ian,” Vivi said, waving off her fiancé’s warning. “How are you with flowers?” she asked.

  Dash saw Matty cast a confused look at Charlotte who, judging by her own expression, wasn’t going to be providing any assistance.

  “Uh, I’m pretty good with flowers, actually. Vegetables not so much, but flowers, yes. Charlotte and I both are. We spent a lot of time with our gardener when we moved to DC. We’d never been able to be outside much before that, so it was fascinating to us.”

  “Great,” Vivi said with a beaming smile. “I suck with them, so how do you feel about helping me pick out my wedding flowers?”

  ***

  Matty spent a sleepless night that night, and not for good reasons. Earlier that evening, she and Charlotte had spent some time weighing the pros and cons of certain kinds of flowers with Vivi and then made plans to visit the local florist the next day. The activity felt incongruent with everything else going on—the pending raid, the investigation into Brad’s death, and the upcoming funeral services—but it was something to do. Something to occupy her time while she sat a
round and waited. And waited.

  She hated not being able to do something. While she was able to play god when she was writing—dispensing actions, deductions, resolutions, and justice at will—this was not one of her books. And it did not sit well that there was, in fact, nothing she could do.

  But that wasn’t what kept her awake. In the dark hours of the morning, she finally let herself really think about what Brad had done, think about what he had risked, not just once, but at least three times that they knew about. At any point, the people he was investigating could have turned on him. And yet he continued to do it, seeking justice for those who could not do it on their own.

  “Matty,” Dash mumbled beside her. She turned to find him watching her.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

  “Brad, of course,” she answered quietly.

  “What about Brad?”

  She sighed. “I just keep thinking about what he did and why he would keep doing it all these years.”

  “Because he could?” Dash suggested. “He had skills and access that not everyone has.”

  “Yeah, but he also has, had, a nice life—plenty of money of his own, and no reason to put everything at risk. But he did. Many times,” she countered, rolling onto her back.

  Dash propped himself on his elbow. “Are you comparing yourself to him?” he asked with a small frown.

  She looked up at the ceiling, the shadows darkening the gray light. “I don’t know. I mean, well, maybe, in a way,” she said. Beside her, Dash said nothing, so she rolled back over to face him. “I’m not comparing myself to him in that I think I should have done what he did, but what he did took courage. A lot of it. I’m not sure I have that much courage.”

  Dash made a noncommittal sound, but she ignored it and kept talking as she wrapped her hand around one of his. “I mean, I know I lived through a lot when I was younger. Things no young child should have to live through. But that’s just the thing, what have I done since then? Nothing, really.”

  “I beg to differ,” Dash said. “You went to school, then college, you’re a best-selling author, and you manage your grandmother’s estate.”

  “That’s not what I mean. What I mean is why did I never go back and actually face what happened to me as a kid? I threw myself into my new life, and yes, I’ve done well. But I’ve also completely ignored what is a huge part of who I am because it’s too painful to think about. Or it’s too painful to admit just how much it’s affected me as an adult. So I don’t think about it, I just move through life.”

  Dash frowned. “That hasn’t been my experience with you,” he commented.

  Matty offered him a small smile. “That’s because you actually got me to think about some of the things that happened to me and made me want to understand just how much they affected me so that I could be a part of something real,” she answered. She saw Dash’s jaw clench, then he lifted her hand and kissed it.

  “But that’s just it, Dash, I needed you to give me the nudge. And then there’s Charlotte, she’s done more or less the same thing as me, only she’s thrown herself into work so much that she doesn’t even have the time to come to grips with her past. I ignored it, she just doesn’t let herself slow down enough to think about it.”

  “But you and Brad had very different lives,” Dash pointed out. “I don’t think it’s something you can even compare.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not so sure. Yes, he had a very privileged childhood and never had to worry about money, but I can’t comment on what kind of emotional support he had. But that’s not even what I’m talking about. What I’m talking about is that he saw all the bad things, all the sorrows this world has to offer. He saw death and destruction, he saw communities annihilated, children killed, families torn apart, and what did he do? He went back time and time again to help, to try to make it better, to ease people’s suffering; and when he couldn’t, he fought for justice in the best way he knew how.” Matty stopped talking and took a deep breath. Dash said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

  “All my life I either despised Brad or felt little more than antipathy toward him,” she said after a few long moments of silence. “But what did I do with all the sorrows, all the injustices I saw? Nothing, Dash. I did nothing. I’ve done nothing. I’ve just ignored them.”

  “Living them is different than experiencing them the way Brad did, by choice,” Dash pointed out.

  “I know it is, and believe me, I’m not belittling everything I experienced as a child. But I just, well, I guess what it comes down to is the man I had very little regard for wasn’t some spoiled child. I know it’s probably too little too late, but he was a man who deserved not just my respect, but my gratitude. My gratitude for being willing to take on things that many of us aren’t willing to take on. I think Brad wasn’t just a good man but a strong one, too. In the best sense, he was a man I think we can all learn something from. I know I can,” she added.

  Absently, she stroked a finger across Dash’s hand as she held it, then continued. “Because, these sorrows we see—the sadness and pain and injustice—and yes, the joys, too, it’s what we do with them that makes us who we are, Dash. And Brad was a remarkable man.”

  They lay in silence for several long moments, Matty lost in thought about just how much she had missed by not knowing Brad, but also thankful that even at this late juncture, she had the opportunity to know at least a little part of him, a part of him that she knew would have a lasting impact on her.

  “You still have an opportunity to honor him, to respect him,” Dash said. She turned her eyes to him in question and he continued. “He asked that you donate part of his estate to charities. Maybe you could take that opportunity and what you know about him and use his money in a way that honors not just the things he cared about but, as you say, who he was as a person, what he did, and what he gave to the world.”

  Matty mulled this over. She’d originally been inclined to donate the money to just the charities she knew he’d volunteered at, but maybe there was a better way to use the money, or at least part of it.

  “I’m not sure what that would be,” she started.

  “And you don’t have to decide now,” Dash responded.

  She smiled. “But I like that idea. I like that maybe we can figure out a way to honor not just what he did, but the courageous person he was.”

  Dash picked up her hand. “You have some time to think about it and if I know you, you’ll come up with something great.”

  “We’ll come up with something great, Dash. It’s your idea, too, and since we’re kind of in this together, I think we should think it through together.”

  She saw Dash’s eyes sparkle a little and he smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

  She smiled back. “Me, too. But let’s talk about it more in the morning,” she said, pulling him toward her.

  “I like the sound of that, too.”

  CHAPTER 27

  MATTY CRAWLED FROM BED feeling a little under the weather for the first time in forever. She supposed it could be the stress of the past few weeks, but she had a sinking sensation it might actually be something like the flu or a summer cold. Her chest felt tight and she had the sudden urge to lie down in the shower and let steaming hot water pound down on her. Stumbling into Dash’s bathroom, she reached into the shower, cranked up the hot water, and stepped in. For a long moment, she just stood there, letting the water warm her. When Dash came in to check on her ten minutes later, she wasn’t exactly lying down, but she was reclining on the built-in tile bench, blankly watching the drops of water gathering and falling down the sides of the shower.

  “Matty? Are you okay?” Dash asked, pushing all five of the dogs that had come into the bathroom to keep her company aside.

  She turned her head at the sound of his voice and noted a frown on his lips.

  “Not feeling well?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not so much,” she said, then
started coughing.

  Dash stepped in and shut the water off then wrapped her in a towel. “You’re shivering,” he said, briskly rubbing her down. She didn’t feel the need to agree, since it was obvious.

  “Back to bed,” he ordered, shoving her toward his big king-size bed. A bed that normally held great appeal to her, but right now looked like a yawning ocean of cold cotton sheets. Her skin broke out in goose bumps again.

  “It’s too cold,” she said, as Dash all but pushed her onto the bed and pulled the covers up. Even though she protested, she grabbed the blankets and pulled them tightly around her.

  After a moment of silence, while she lay curled up, still shivering, she peeked out to see Dash. He was standing over her, hands jammed on his hips, nicely clad in jeans. Her eyes strayed to the clock. “You need to go to work,” she said, then started coughing again.

  “Give me a minute,” he said, then he called Bob and Rufus into his room and ordered them up onto the bed. Matty closed her eyes but could feel Dash maneuvering the dogs around her, one in front and one in back. Both dogs seemed born for their roles as body heaters, stretching themselves out alongside her.

  “This is just temporary, just give me a minute,” Dash repeated and then she heard his footsteps leaving the room. Bob leaned back and nuzzled her; Rufus seemed to scrunch up even closer to her. She smiled. How could she not love a man who trusted dogs to keep his woman warm when he couldn’t?

  She snuggled down further into her blankets at the thought, enjoying the feel of her two companions beside her, like two sentinels. She was drifting back to sleep when she heard Dash order the dogs back off the bed, and immediately she was wracked with shivers again.

  She mumbled a not very polite protest and heard Dash chuckle. Then the bed dipped, the covers were pulled back, and he slid in behind her.

  “They were just temporary while I rearranged my day to stay with you,” he said.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, or thought she said. Her voice sounded fuzzy to her.