Chapter 9 - THE TRUTH ABOUT GRANT
I couldn't breathe.
“You?”
Grant nodded.
“I was twenty-nine.”
“You stole the money?”
“No.”
He sat down.
“I moved it.”
“What does that mean?”
“Michael discovered someone inside the company was laundering money.”
“Who?”
“Our boss.”
I stared at him.
“Then why did you take the blame?”
“Because Michael had evidence.”
“What kind?”
“Bank transfers. Emails. Contracts.”
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
“Destroyed?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Hidden.”
I realized the implication.
“The box.”
Grant nodded.
“I thought the evidence was inside.”
We searched again.
Nothing.
Then Cole walked into the room.
“What happened?”
Grant looked at him.
“Your uncle may still be alive.”
Cole froze.
“What?”
Grant explained everything.
Cole listened silently.
When he finished, Cole asked,
“Then why would Mom be involved?”
“That’s what we need to find out,” Grant said.
That afternoon, Cole received another message.
This time, it contained a location.
A diner.
And a time.
7:00 PM.
The message said:
**COME ALONE.**
Cole showed us.
“I’m not going.”
“Good,” I said.
But at 6:40 PM, we received another message.
**IF YOU DON'T COME, SOMEONE ELSE PAYS.**
Attached was a photograph of our house.
And a picture of my car.
I looked at Grant.
“We're going.”
We parked two blocks away.
Cole stayed in the car.
Grant and I entered the diner.
A woman sat in the corner.
Blonde hair.
Dark coat.
Older than I remembered from the photographs.
Cole's mother.
She looked at me.
Then at Grant.
“You brought her.”
Grant's voice was cold.
“You used our son.”
“I was trying to protect him.”
“By paying him?”
“He needed money.”
“You manipulated him.”
She looked at me.
“You don't know what happened.”
“Then tell me.”
She hesitated.
“My name is Natalie.”
“I know.”
“You think I abandoned Cole.”
“Didn’t you?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I was threatened.”
“By whom?”
She looked toward the window.
“Michael.”
Grant stood.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He survived.”
Grant froze.
Natalie continued.
“After the fraud investigation, Michael disappeared. He came back years later under another name.”
“What does he want?” I asked.
Natalie looked directly at me.
“Revenge.”
“Against Grant?”
“Against anyone connected to him.”
“Why me?”
She lowered her voice.
“Because Michael believes you took something from him.”
“I've never met him.”
“You don't have to.”
She reached into her purse.
She pulled out a photograph.
It showed me at a charity event.
Standing beside an older man.
I recognized him.
He had been one of my clients.
“Who is that?”
Natalie said,
“The man who stole the money.”
I stared at the photograph.
“That’s impossible. He died three years ago.”
Natalie shook her head.
“He faked his death.”
Grant looked horrified.
“Then who has the evidence?”
Natalie whispered,
“You do.”
We both stared at her.
“What?”
“The evidence was never in Michael's possession.”
She looked at Grant.
“You hid it years ago.”
“I don't remember.”
“You do.”
Grant's face went blank.
Then he whispered,
“The house.”
I looked at him.
“What about the house?”
“The foundation.”
Our old house had been renovated before we bought it.
Grant suddenly remembered something.
“There was a loose floorboard in the basement.”
We rushed home.
And beneath that floorboard was a small metal box.
Inside were bank records.
Emails.
Photographs.
And one handwritten list.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
At the bottom was a name I never expected to see.
**Grant Hale.**
I looked at my husband.
He whispered,
“I swear I didn't know that was there.”
Before I could answer, the lights went out.
Cole screamed upstairs.
We ran.
His bedroom window was open.
His phone was gone.
And on his desk was a note.
May you like
**NOW WE TALK.**
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