"To Ashley. Thank you for giving me the courage to finally end my marriage. By the time we return, everything will be settled. Love, Ryan."
For a moment I felt disconnected from the narrow space of the galley. The words were so confident, so definite, that they seemed to describe a future Ryan had already arranged without the inconvenience of asking whether I intended to participate. I thought of our house, our joint accounts, my father's property, and the way he had been so strangely gentle that week. What exactly did he believe would be settled in four days?
"Would you return this to her?" I asked Denise, handing the paper back. "It's hers. I don't want to keep it."
Denise studied my face. "Valerie, sit down for a moment."
"I'm all right."
She did not argue. Instead, she glanced toward the front entrance where a passenger had paused beside the galley curtain. He wore a gray suit and carried a narrow leather document case rather than vacation luggage. I recognized his face before Denise spoke his name, and the recognition was so unexpected that it frightened me more than seeing Ashley had.
"There's someone asking for you," Denise said quietly. "He says he knows your husband."
Daniel Whitmore had been Carter Ridge Construction's chief financial officer for seven years. At holiday parties he was the man who remembered everyone's children's names and stayed late to help the catering staff pack up. He was also the man Ryan called when the company had a problem too serious to describe over dinner. I had not seen Daniel looking frightened before, and now his face was pale enough that I wondered whether he was ill.
"Valerie," he said, stepping carefully into the galley when Denise signaled that it was clear, "I need a minute. It's urgent."
He held out a business card. On the back, in hurried handwriting, were six words that made my stomach turn: Don't let Ryan leave Dallas yet. Beneath them was a phone number I did not recognize.
"Daniel, why are you on this plane?" I asked.
"I bought a ticket. I couldn't reach you without him knowing, and I was afraid I'd miss you at the gate. I've already spoken to someone who can help, but I had to make sure you heard it directly from me."
I looked beyond him toward the cabin. Ryan was visible between the seats, leaning over Ashley and speaking rapidly, unaware that the man who managed his company's finances had just appeared less than twenty feet away. I had the absurd thought that everyone in my husband's life had somehow chosen this flight except the one person he believed he could control.
Denise pulled the galley curtain partly closed, giving us a little privacy without blocking her view of the cabin. "Daniel," I said, "what is going on?"
His eyes moved toward the first-class seats and back to me. "Before I tell you, I need to know something. When was the last time you signed a document for Ryan's company?"