Chapter 62
The rain fell steadily while I stood at the gallery's front window, watching the rivulets streak down the glass.
My thoughts were still jumbled from yesterday's chat with Owen and the enigmatic, unfinished business of the letters.
I attempted to concentrate on classifying pieces for an upcoming display, but the gnawing anxiety wouldn't let go.
A harsh knock on the door made me jump. I turned to see Tyler standing just outside, his hair drenched from the rain and his hands stuffed into his coat pockets.
He did not appear casual; rather, he appeared resolute, the set of his jaw indicating trouble.
I sighed and unlocked the door.
"Tyler," I said, keeping my tone calm. "What are you doing here?"
He stepped inside, shaking water off his coat. "We need to talk."
I pointed to the seating area near the gallery's back corner, directing him away from the front, where any visitors may notice us. I could sense his stress from the time we sat down.
"Okay," I replied, folding my arms. "What's so urgent?"
He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his hazel gaze locked on me. "It's about Caleb."
My stomach turned at the mention of his name. "What about him?"
"I've been looking into him," Tyler stated bluntly.
I blinked, taken aback. "Why on earth would you do that?"
"Because something doesn't add up," he remarked quietly but firmly. "I care about you, Sam. "I don't want you to get hurt."
I laughed briefly and without humor. "You can't play the protective ex-husband card. "Especially not now."
"This isn't about us," he said, his tone as stern as I'd ever heard it. "It's about him." "Do you know who he really is?"
I bristled and leaned back in my chair. "I worked with Caleb for several years. "I believe I know him better than you do.
"Do you?" Tyler challenged, his gaze sharpening. "Because the guy's background is filled with holes. The business ventures he boasts about don't always pan out. And I discovered something-something huge."
I crossed my arms tighter, rage rising to mask my discomfort. "And what exactly did you find?"
Tyler stopped, and for the first time, I noticed a hint of hesitation in his countenance. He dipped into his coat pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to me without speaking.
I unfolded it and scanned the document, which was a printout of some financial documents with a few notes written in Tyler's clean handwriting. My attention was drawn to a certain transaction, which was highlighted in yellow and marked with an asterisk. It was a considerable sum of money sent into a secret account under Caleb's name.
"So?" I said, but my voice wavered.
"So," Tyler explained, "this account is tied to a shell firm that has been identified in various fraud investigations. "And Caleb's name is all over it."
I stared at the article, my thoughts whirling. The Caleb I knew and trusted was ambitious, but was he shady? Dishonest? I couldn't reconcile it.
"This doesn't prove anything," I finally muttered, my words sounding feeble even to me. People have accounts. Investments."
"People don't bury their investments behind layers of offshore paperwork," Tyler answered back. "But it isn't only this. I spoke to someone who used to work with him. They claimed Caleb had a history of cutting corners and creating arrangements that benefit him while harming everyone else."
I shook my head and set down the paper, as if it had burned my hands. "Why are you doing this?" Is this how you're getting back at me? "At him?"
Tyler's jaw tensed, but his voice became softer. "Sam, I am not trying to hurt you. I am trying to warn you. You need to be cautious around him."
I turned away to stare at the rain staining the windows. Caleb I knew had always been polished, engaging, and unapologetically ambitious. But Tyler's accusations caused my chest to feel heavy, as if the air around me had thickened.
"I need more than this," I finally muttered, my voice barely audible.
"You'll get it," Tyler stated, standing. "I'm not finished digging." But don't simply take my word for it. Pay attention to him, Sam. Look for cracks. They're there if you choose to see them."
His remarks remained in the air as he grabbed his coat and walked towards the door. He returned my gaze just as he was about to depart.
"For what it's worth," he added, "I'm not out to destroy this for you. I just don't want to catch you off guard."
With a faint thud, the door closed behind him, leaving me alone with the paper and a storm of doubt churning in my thoughts.
I tried to shake it off, convincing myself that Tyler was simply grabbing at straws. But as the hours passed and the rain continued to fall, I could not stop thinking about his comments.
That night, when I closed up the gallery and drove home, I felt the weight of uncertainty bear down on me. The Caleb I thought I knew seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the shadow of someone I wasn't sure I co
uld trust.
And in the pit of my stomach, a small but rising voice whispered.. What if Tyler is correct?