Chapter 3 - THIS TIME, I WOULD NOT MAKE IT GO AWAY
The formal statement took two hours.
Special Agent Ashford asked careful questions in a small, windowless room in the NCIS building, and I answered every one of them in the same measured tone I used for after-action reports.
I described the morning chronologically, from my arrival at Pier 12 through Delphine’s approach, her exact words as best I could remember them, the moment she grabbed the bag, and the moment it hit the water.
I named every witness I could identify.
I described my prior relationship with Delphine in factual terms without editorializing, going back to our childhood in Rowan Oak and forward through our mother’s funeral in 2023.
Ashford asked about the harassment claim she had made.
I told him the truth, which was that I had not spoken to Delphine in 20 months, that I had not sent her any messages, that I had not contacted any member of her family, and that I could produce phone records to prove all of it.
He nodded and made a note.
He asked about the claim that I had deliberately scheduled the inspection to interfere with her catering event.
I told him that waterfront readiness inspections were scheduled six weeks in advance through a coordinated process involving multiple commands, that the schedule was documented, that I had no knowledge of any catering event on any pier that day, and that I could produce every email in the scheduling chain going back to April.
He asked about the claim that I had a history of using my rank to intimidate her.
I sat with that one for a moment.
“Agent Ashford, I have never used my rank in her presence in any context. She has never seen me in uniform except at our mother’s funeral, and I wore dress blues then because my mother had specifically requested it in her final wishes.”
I paused.
“Delphine did not know I was a commander until this morning. She has consistently referred to me as being in the Navy in the same tone she would use to describe someone working at a gas station.”
Ashford’s mouth twitched slightly.
He made another note.
When we finished, he thanked me, told me the investigation would move quickly, and mentioned that Delphine had been released pending charges and had been escorted off the base by security.
She would not be permitted to return without prior authorization from base command.
I drove home to my apartment in Virginia Beach in the late-afternoon traffic.
And for the entire 30-minute drive, I thought about how strange it felt to have finally said all of that out loud to someone with the authority to do something about it.
My apartment was small and quiet.
Two bedrooms, one for me and one that functioned as an office and library, on the third floor of a building overlooking a small courtyard with a fountain.
I had lived there for four years.
It contained no photographs of my family other than one of Corwin and Teodoro on their wedding day and one of my mother from before I had joined the Navy.
Delphine had never been inside.
I called Corwin as soon as I put my keys down.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Marlo.”
“Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m home.”
He exhaled.
I heard him close a door on his end.
Probably the door to his home office.
“Tell me everything.”
I told him everything.
Corwin listened without interrupting, which was one of the many reasons I loved him.
And when I finished, he was quiet for a long time.
“She’s telling everyone you attacked her,” he finally offered.
“I know.”
“Aunt Maragold called me an hour ago screaming that you had used your military connections to have Delphine thrown in prison. She said Delphine is traumatized. She said the family is going to organize.”
“Organize what?”
“I don’t know. A statement, I think. Aunt Maragold used the word intervention.”
I laughed.
I could not help it.
“An intervention for me.”
“Marlo, she is telling them that you have been stalking Delphine and that today you finally snapped. She’s saying you had her cuffed in front of her clients and that the catering company fired her on the spot.”
“Was she fired?”
“Yes. Bram called me right before you did. They’re apparently now blaming you for that, too.”
I sat down on my couch and rubbed my forehead.
The headache from earlier had gotten worse.
“Corwin, I need you to hear me clearly. I am not going to be quiet about this. Not this time.”
“She threw federal property into the water in front of 11 witnesses and a federal agent. There is video. There is a formal investigation. There is a JAG officer involved.”
“If the family wants to have an intervention for me, they are welcome to try.”
“But I am not going to pretend this did not happen so that Delphine can continue to build her version of reality.”
“I know you do, Marlo.”
Corwin’s voice softened.
“I have been watching her do this to you our entire lives. I have watched Mom and Aunt Maragold and everyone else accept whatever she says about you because it’s easier than actually looking at the evidence.”
“I love our family, but I am not going to stand next to them on this one. I want you to know that.”
I closed my eyes.
“Thank you.”
“What do you need from me?”
“I need you to not defend me publicly yet.”
“Let her build her narrative.”
“Let her make the calls and send the messages. Every single one of them is going to be documented, and it is going to make the eventual truth that much clearer.”
“Don’t argue with her. Don’t argue with Aunt Maragold. Just listen and remember what they say.”
“Understood. Teodoro is making dinner. He said to tell you he loves you, and if you need to come stay with us this weekend, the guest room is ready.”
“Tell him thank you. I might.”
We hung up.
I sat on my couch for a while and watched the last of the afternoon light move across the wall.
Then I got up, changed into sweatpants and a navy T-shirt, and started to make myself dinner.
Pasta with butter and pepper because it was what I always made when I did not want to think about food.
While the water boiled, my phone started buzzing.
Text messages.
Aunt Maragold first.
A wall of text in all capital letters accusing me of destroying the family.
Then my cousin Pru, who I had not spoken to in eight years, informing me that I had always been jealous of Delphine, and this proved it.
Then my uncle Tavish, who wrote only three words:
“Call me now.”
I did not call him.
I did not respond to any of them.
I ate my pasta standing at the kitchen counter, drank a glass of water, and then sat down at my desk to begin the incident report addendum I owed Captain Bramwell in the morning.
At 8:47 that evening, Delphine called me.
I let it go to voicemail.
She called again at 8:49.
Again at 8:52.
Again at 8:56.
On the fifth call, she left a message.
I listened to it exactly one time, sitting at my desk, and I recorded it playing on speaker with a second phone because I already knew that having a copy was going to matter.
“Marlo, pick up your phone. Pick up your phone right now. Do you have any idea what you have done to me? Do you have any idea?”
“I lost my job today because of you. I was fingerprinted like a criminal. Bram is furious. The kids are asking questions. Aunt Maragold is threatening to disown me if I don’t fix this.”
“Which means I need you to call whoever you called and undo it.”
“I don’t care what you have to do. I don’t care what strings you have to pull. You started this and you are going to end it.”
“Because if you don’t, I swear to God, Marlo, I will tell every single person we know exactly what kind of person you really are.”
“I will call the newspapers. I will call your commanders. I will make sure everyone knows what you did to Mom and what you did to me and what you did to this family.”
“Call me back tonight. Tonight, Marlo.”
The message ended.
I sat at my desk for a long time.
Then I opened my laptop, transcribed the message word for word, saved the audio file to two separate locations, and sent a copy to Lieutenant Commander Per with a short note explaining what it was.
I did not call her back.
I got into bed at 10:30, lay in the dark for about 20 minutes, and then fell asleep more easily than I expected to.
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The last thought I had before I dropped off was that, for the first time in 37 years—
I was not going to be the one who made this go away.
