Chapter 8 - THE DEAD MAN’S FILE
The video lasted forty-three seconds.
We played it four times.
Grant said he had documents.
He wanted immunity before turning them over.
Daniel called his attorney.
I called the police.
Vivian called Grant a liar.
Nobody believed anybody anymore.
At midnight, Daniel found me sitting alone in the hotel kitchen.
Mia was asleep.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He sat across from me.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “I’m sorry.”
“For which part?”
“All of it.”
I looked at him.
“You didn’t forge the papers.”
“I believed the story afterward.”
“You were manipulated.”
“I still stopped looking.”
That hurt because it was true.
He continued.
“I looked for six months.”
I hadn’t known that.
“I hired an investigator.”
“Grant?”
“No. Someone else.”
“What happened?”
“He found an address in Phoenix.”
“I never lived there.”
“I know.”
“He showed me pictures.”
My stomach dropped.
“Of who?”
“A woman from behind. Dark hair. Your height.”
I almost laughed.
“They built an entire life for me.”
Daniel nodded.
“Apartment. Utility bills. Bank account.”
“And you believed I was there.”
“I went there.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“I flew to Phoenix.”
His eyes watered.
“I stood outside that apartment for two hours.”
My anger shifted into something harder to name.
“Why didn’t you knock?”
“I did.”
I stopped.
“A woman answered.”
“What did she say?”
“That Elena didn’t want to see me.”
My throat tightened.
Daniel looked down.
“She had your wedding ring.”
I instinctively touched my bare finger.
“I left it in our apartment.”
“I know that now.”
For ten years, we had each carried proof that the other had chosen to leave.
Someone had made sure of it.
The next morning, Grant agreed to meet.
Public place.
A diner outside Evanston.
Daniel wanted me to stay with Mia.
I refused.
“Those records started with me.”
“Elena—”
“I’m going.”
Grant arrived wearing a baseball cap and an old coat.
He looked less like a criminal fixer than a tired accountant.
He slid into the booth.
“You brought her.”
Daniel said, “Talk.”
Grant looked at me.
“I owe you an apology.”
“I’d rather have the truth.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
He pushed a flash drive across the table.
“Your father had me investigate Victor Mercer.”
Daniel didn’t touch it.
“For what?”
“Foundation theft. Kickbacks. Shell companies.”
I asked, “Why did Vivian say Robert wanted me gone?”
“Because Robert was afraid Victor would come after you.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if Victor believed you had copies of the ledger.”
“I didn’t.”
“Robert knew that. Victor didn’t.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“So Dad wanted Elena protected.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Send her somewhere safe for a few weeks. Quietly.”
I stared at Grant.
“And my mother?”
“She decided permanent separation solved two problems.”
Daniel looked sick.
Grant continued.
“Vivian wanted you free of Elena. Victor wanted Elena quiet.”
“So they worked together.”
“For a while.”
A waitress poured coffee.
None of us touched it.
I asked, “Who forged the divorce papers?”
Grant looked at me.
“I arranged the documents.”
Daniel lunged across the table.
I grabbed his sleeve.
“Daniel.”
Grant didn’t move.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good,” Daniel said.
“I was paid.”
“By my mother?”
“Half by Vivian.”
Daniel went still.
“And the other half?”
Grant looked toward the window.
A black SUV had pulled into the parking lot.
His face changed.
“Oh, hell.”
He stood.
Daniel turned.
Grant shoved the flash drive into my hand.
“Get out the back.”
“Who is that?”
“Victor’s people.”
A man stepped from the SUV.
Then another.
Grant said, “Move!”
We ran through the kitchen.
A cook shouted as Daniel pushed open the rear door.
We reached the alley.
Behind us, glass shattered.
I heard someone yell.
Daniel pulled me behind a dumpster just as a car tore around the corner.
The passenger window lowered.
I saw a hand.
Daniel threw himself over me.
A loud bang cracked through the alley.
May you like
For one second, I thought I had been shot.
Then Daniel collapsed against me.
