Chapter 8
I stared at the phone.
“That’s impossible.”
Richard was already searching.
Daniel said nothing.
Ethan looked confused.
“Who is Samuel Grant?”
“One of Hawthorne’s most powerful board members.”
Olivia whispered, “You mean Marcus’s father sits on your board?”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“At least, not officially.”
Marcus Reed was fifty-six.
Samuel Grant was seventy-eight.
The ages worked.
But I had known both men most of my life.
They never acted like family.
Never attended events together.
Never used the same last name.
Richard turned his laptop toward me.
“I found Marcus’s original birth record.”
Daniel leaned closer.
Richard pointed.
Marcus Daniel Grant.
Father: Samuel Grant.
Mother: Elizabeth Reed.
A legal name change at twenty-one.
I felt physically ill.
“My father knew?”
Richard searched.
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
Daniel looked through old board minutes.
“If Jonathan discovered Samuel was protecting Marcus, that explains why he kept the investigation outside Hawthorne.”
Because the corruption was inside the board itself.
My father hadn’t known whom to trust.
Maybe not even Daniel.
My phone rang.
Hawthorne security.
“Ms. Bennett, Samuel Grant is downstairs.”
My blood ran cold.
“Why?”
“He says he has an emergency board matter.”
Daniel shook his head immediately.
“Don’t let him up.”
I agreed.
“Keep him in the lobby. Do not confront him.”
Then I called Agent Ruiz.
She answered.
I told her everything.
“I’m sending agents,” she said.
“Do not alert Grant.”
I watched the lobby feed.
Samuel stood calmly near the reception desk.
Silver hair.
Navy suit.
His cane resting beneath one hand.
He looked like a grandfather waiting for dinner reservations.
Not a man connected to the conspiracy that had surrounded my father’s death.
He checked his watch.
Then looked directly at the security camera.
And smiled.
My stomach tightened.
“He knows.”
Daniel whispered, “Knows what?”
“That we’re watching.”
Samuel raised his phone.
Mine rang.
I answered.
“Claire.”
His voice was warm.
The same voice that had congratulated me after my wedding ceremony.
“Samuel.”
“Would you come downstairs?”
“No.”
“I think we should speak.”
“So do federal investigators.”
Silence.
Then a soft laugh.
“You’ve always been dramatic when frightened.”
“I learned from my father.”
His tone cooled.
“Jonathan was dramatic too.”
“You mean before he died?”
Nobody in the room moved.
Samuel sighed.
“Claire, your father had a heart condition.”
“Did he?”
“You saw the medical reports.”
“I was grieving.”
“You think I killed him?”
“Did you?”
Another silence.
“No.”
“Did Marcus?”
“No.”
“Margaret?”
“No.”
“You answer quickly.”
“Because the truth is simple.”
“Then come upstairs and tell it to federal agents.”
“I think I’ll leave.”
Security immediately spoke through my other phone.
“Ms. Bennett, Mr. Grant is heading toward the exit.”
“Stop him only if law enforcement instructs you. Don’t create a confrontation.”
Agent Ruiz was already on her way.
Samuel reached the revolving doors.
Then stopped.
A federal SUV pulled up outside.
He smiled again.
And raised both hands.
No running.
No fear.
He had expected them.
That bothered me.
An hour later, Ruiz came upstairs.
“We’re questioning him.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He denies financial crimes.”
“My father?”
“He volunteered information.”
I stiffened.
“What information?”
Ruiz sat opposite me.
“Grant claims Jonathan Bennett was investigating an internal conspiracy but misunderstood who controlled it.”
“Meaning?”
“He says Marcus was working as an informant.”
I laughed.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe.”
She opened her notebook.
“He claims Marcus leaked selected information to your father while pretending to cooperate with the Walkers.”
Daniel frowned.
“Then why did Emily accuse Marcus?”
“Grant says Emily didn’t know Marcus’s true role.”
I asked, “Do you believe him?”
“I believe people under investigation tell stories that benefit themselves.”
Good answer.
“What about Margaret?”
Ruiz looked at me.
“Grant says Margaret was the person helping your father.”
The room went silent.
Ethan stood.
“My mother?”
Ruiz nodded.
“According to Grant, Margaret discovered Robert was laundering money through Walker Development and secretly approached Jonathan.”
I thought about the photograph at the cabin.
Dad.
Margaret.
Emily.
Maybe it wasn’t a conspiracy meeting.
Maybe it was evidence exchange.
“But my father’s video said not to trust her.”
Ruiz nodded.
“Which is why Grant’s story has problems.”
My phone rang.
Margaret.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Tell me about the cabin.”
Silence.
“Ethan told you?”
“Federal agents found photographs.”
She exhaled.
“I wondered when those would surface.”
“Were you helping my father?”
Another pause.
“At first.”
Ethan moved closer to the phone.
“Mom, tell the truth.”
Margaret snapped, “Stay out of this.”
“No.”
His voice hardened.
“You used me.”
She became quiet.
He continued.
“You planned to use me to get Claire years before I met her.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand enough.”
Margaret said, “I never forced you to date her.”
“No. You just made sure I met her.”
I looked at him.
He looked ashamed.
Margaret spoke again.
“Claire, your father and I had the same enemy once.”
“Marcus?”
“No.”
“Samuel?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Robert.”
Olivia whispered, “Uncle Robert?”
Margaret continued.
“My husband has always been weak where his brother is concerned. Robert got involved with Marcus and Samuel years ago. At first it was legal deals. Then shell companies. Inflated purchases. Hidden fees.”
“Why did you help Dad?”
“Because Robert was going to destroy Walker Development.”
“Yet you stole from Hawthorne later.”
“I made a different choice later.”
Her honesty shocked me.
“You became what you were fighting.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
Just yes.
“Why?”
“Because your father died.”
“That doesn’t explain stealing.”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“But after Jonathan died, Robert told me he had proof Charles had participated in the fraud. He threatened to send my husband to prison unless I helped him.”
Ethan stared at the phone.
“Mom…”
She continued.
“I spent years covering holes. Moving money. Keeping Robert satisfied. Telling myself I was protecting everyone.”
I almost laughed at the similarity between her and Ethan.
Same family habit.
Call cowardice protection.
Call manipulation love.
Call theft sacrifice.
“Why target me?”
Margaret went quiet.
“Answer.”
“Robert said your trust was the only thing big enough to save us.”
“So you told Ethan to marry me.”
“I encouraged him.”
“You planned it four years earlier.”
“No.”
I slammed my hand onto the desk.
“My father recorded Marcus saying you had a son who could marry me.”
“That wasn’t my plan.”
“Then whose?”
“Marcus’s.”
I froze.
Margaret continued.
“He joked about it during an argument. Jonathan believed I had suggested it.”
“Did you correct him?”
“I didn’t get the chance.”
“You had four years.”
“I was ashamed.”
“Not enough to stop you from doing exactly what he suggested.”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “No.”
I hated her.
But I also believed some of what she was saying.
Which made the truth harder.
“Why did Dad say not to trust you?”
“Because the night before he died, I lied to him.”
“About what?”
“The evidence.”
My pulse quickened.
“What evidence?”
“Robert had a ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“Every payment. Every shell company. Everyone involved.”
“Where is it?”
“I told Jonathan I had destroyed it.”
“Why?”
“Robert had threatened Olivia.”
Olivia covered her mouth.
Margaret’s voice broke.
“He showed me photographs of her school. Her friends. Her bedroom window.”
Olivia started crying.
“I panicked.”
Margaret continued.
“I told Jonathan the ledger was gone. He knew I was lying. He stopped trusting me.”
“Where is it now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Robert took it.”
“Then why did he have my trust papers?”
“To trade.”
“With whom?”
“I don’t know.”
A loud sound came through the phone.
Glass breaking.
Margaret gasped.
“Mom?” Ethan shouted.
Another crash.
Then Margaret whispered, “Someone’s inside.”
Ethan grabbed the phone.
“Lock the door!”
“I’m in the library.”
“Call 911.”
“I did.”
We heard footsteps.
Slow.
Approaching.
Margaret’s breathing became frantic.
“Ethan.”
“I’m here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Mom, stop talking like that.”
The library door slammed.
Margaret screamed.
The line went dead.
Ethan ran.
I followed.
Daniel grabbed my arm.
“You’re not going there.”
“My evidence is there.”
“So is an intruder.”
Ethan turned.
“Claire, stay.”
It was the first sensible thing he had told me in twenty-four hours.
He and Olivia left with security.
Police reached the Walker estate first.
By the time Ethan called twenty minutes later, I was pacing holes into the conference room carpet.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
I exhaled.
“What happened?”
“She locked herself in the library. Someone broke a side window, searched Dad’s office, and escaped through the garden.”
“What did they take?”
“We don’t know.”
“Margaret?”
“She says nothing.”
I heard shouting behind him.
Then Ethan said, “Wait.”
His voice changed.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“They left something.”
My skin prickled.
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of who?”
“You.”
I stopped.
“When?”
“Your wedding.”
My wedding had been less than twenty-four hours ago.
“What part?”
Ethan swallowed.
“You and me at the altar.”
“Anything written on it?”
“Yes.”
His voice shook.
“On your face, someone drew a black X.”
A chill ran through me.
“And on the back?”
Another pause.
“Three words.”
“What words?”
May you like
Ethan said,
“FINISH WHAT JONATHAN STARTED.”
