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“There’d be no way for us to trace that unless we subpoenaed Greg’sbank accounts.” I chew on my lip. “Except... would he write her a big check? Kit told me that she and Greg share a bank account. She would notice something like that. She’d see a big chunk of cash missing, too.”
“Did Greg have a secret account?”
“Not that the cops have found.” I shift my weight. “Is there another way to siphon off nine grand—or more—in such a way that Kit didn’t detect it?”
“Could Raina have set up a shell company?” Paul’s tone is joking. “Maybe she’s posing as Nordstrom-dot-com?”
“Or maybe he just gave her a few twenties or hundreds at a time?” I speculate. “Except I doubt they’d want to be seen together too often...”
Paul wrinkles his nose and stares out the windshield for a while. Then he turns back to me. “Did I mention that my ex-wife was thirteen years younger than we are?”
I stare at him, shocked. “She was twenty-four?” I can’t hide my revulsion. “That’s achild!”
“Anyway.” Paul tugs on his collar. “One of the reasons we broke up was because we seemed on two different planets when it came to a lot of things. She didn’t even have a checking account. Barely knew what to do if someone wrote her a check. She was always saying that no one her age had a checkbook—they all paid their bills online. She never carried cash. Never even had a credit card, half the time.”
“Isn’t that sweet,” I say acidly. The last thing I want right now is to hear about Paul’s prepubescent wife. “And that has to do with this... why?”
“Well, one of the financial things my wifedidknow about—which I didn’t—was paying people through an app.”
I frown. “What, like Paypal?”
“Yes. One of those.”
I click back to Greg’s e-mail in the hack. “I’ve heard of the apps, but I’ve never used them. I’m super old-fashioned when it comes to money—I still enter charges in a check register.”
“Me, too!” Paul says, sounding almost overjoyed. Which makes me a little less angry about him being a cradle robber.
“So there’s, what? Paypal? Venmo?” I start scrolling through Greg’s e-mails, but I don’t see anything. Nothing in his deleted messages, either. Then again, if Gregwaspaying Raina, he wouldn’t have kept those messages around. They’d probably been doubly deleted ages ago.
I log into my own Venmo account, which I’d set up but never used. But it’s not like I’m going to find a public note proclaiming that Greg Strasser paid Raina Hammond forsex actsorhush money.What would those emojis even be? But then, halfway down the screen, I notice a familiar photo of a man standing on a beach in Barbados. It’s the very same picture shown at Greg’s funeral a few days ago. He looks tanned, handsome, almost young. It’s strange that the digital version of Greg has outlasted the man.
His screen name isGStrass92; Venmo has announced that Greg Strasser paid Kit Manning an undisclosed amount on April 25. That’s the day before the benefit. So he does use his account, then.
But if I want to see more—and dollar amounts—I need more access. “Maybe I can sign into his account,” I murmur.
Paul nods, watching me carefully. But before I do, I send a quick text to Sienna.What was Greg’s e-mail password?I ask, remembering that she’d said she’d hacked into his e-mails to see if he was cheating. About half a minute later, Sienna responds:StBarts081215.The place and date of Kit and Greg’s wedding.
“Let’s hope he’s the type who uses the same password for everything,” I murmur, going to the login screen. Luck is on my side, because after a few variations of the password, I’m in.
“Whoa,” Paul says, sounding dazzled.
I don’t know my way around Venmo, but I decide to click on “Friends.” I scroll through a list of people, my heart thudding hard. “There!” Paul cries, pointing at a name toward the bottom of the list.RayRay09,reads the screen name, and there’s a tiny image of the same pretty, red-lipped girl that’s on Raina’s Instagram page.
I let out a whoop. “Holyshit.” And then I click on her name. A list of payments appears. No explanations, no emojis, but still.
“This is it,” I tell Paul, grabbing his hand before I realize that, well, we’re holding hands. But I’m so excited, I don’t care. “Paul, this is freakingit.”
“What?” Paul cries, his eyes dancing.
“Greg was paying Raina through this app. In total, we have him on the books for giving her almost fifteen thousand dollars.”
23
RAINA
TUESDAY, MAY 2, 2017
This city is a strange place. One minute, you’re driving through a neighborhood full of small, crooked houses smashed together like teeth in a mouth. But then, suddenly, you turn a corner, andbam.The houses look like castles, set on large, rambling lawns. Some of them go on forever, windows upon windows, garage doors for miles, circular driveways fit for a five-star hotel. That’s how I feel when we get to Alexis’s parents’ place. Like I’ve landed on a very fancy planet. Like my ship has come in.
