“Or what?”
“Or you will make the next thirty minutes far worse for yourself.”
He pulled away and laughed.
“You retired prosecutors always think the world still listens to you.”
But I knew more than he realized.
I chaired the trust’s ethics committee. I had already reviewed suspicious vendor payments at Mercer Dynamics. Each amount looked small on its own, but together they added up to millions. What we lacked was the signature tying the scheme to Grant.
Claire had found it.
“Where are the files?” I asked.
Grant slammed his palm against the table.
“There are no files.”
Claire looked at the bread basket.
I lifted the linen napkin beneath it and found a black flash drive taped to the wicker.
Evelyn shot to her feet.
“Give that to me.”
I slipped it into my pocket.
Grant’s face changed. The charm disappeared, leaving only cold calculation.
“You have no idea what you’re touching,” he said.
“I know exactly what I’m touching.”
He locked the dining room door.
His brother rose behind him. Evelyn grabbed Claire’s phone from the counter and dropped it into her wineglass. The screen hissed and went black.
“There,” Evelyn said. “No more recordings.”
Claire began to shake.
Grant stepped closer to me.
“You will hand over that drive. Then you will tell everyone Claire fell down the stairs.”
“Everyone?”
“The hospital. Her friends. Anyone who asks.”
“And if I refuse?”
He smiled.
“You are seventy-one. Accidents happen.”
I glanced at the brass clock.
Twenty-two minutes had passed.
“You targeted the wrong woman,” I said.
Grant barked out a laugh.
“Claire?”
“No,” I said. “Me.”
I removed my watch and placed it on the table. A tiny green light blinked beneath the face.
