Chapter 13 - Eight O'Clock Monday)
Grant did not spend Sunday searching blindly for Adrian.
He did something Adrian did not expect.
He stopped trying to protect himself.
At noon, Grant called an emergency meeting of Vance Group's independent directors.
At one, he called federal investigators.
At two, he called the company's lenders.
At three, he contacted representatives for the Cross estate and Edward Vance.
At four, he recorded a statement.
Julian listened from across the conference table.
"You know what this will do to the stock price."
"Yes."
"It could drop forty percent."
"Maybe more."
"And you're still doing it."
Grant looked at Elena's letter.
"That's why my father kept lying. Every lie made the truth more expensive."
Julian nodded.
Grant continued.
"I'm not buying another day with Noah's future."
At six, Grant went home.
Noah was building a model airplane on the dining table.
Grant sat beside him.
"Can I help?"
Noah looked surprised.
"Don't you have work?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you here?"
Grant smiled.
"Because you're more important."
Noah studied him as if trying to determine whether this version of his father would disappear.
Finally he pushed a wing toward him.
"You can do this part."
Grant took it.
Megan watched from the kitchen.
For one hour, no one discussed Adrian.
No trusts.
No crimes.
No board.
Just glue, wood, and a crooked model airplane.
At seven thirty, Noah asked, "Is Claire coming back?"
Grant put down the wing.
"No."
"Ever?"
"Not to live here."
Noah nodded.
"Is she bad?"
Grant thought carefully.
"She did bad things."
"Does that make her bad?"
Grant looked at his son.
"I think people can make terrible choices because they're angry or afraid. But being hurt doesn't give them permission to hurt somebody else."
Noah considered that.
"Did Grandpa Thomas do bad things?"
Grant had not told him the details.
But children heard more than adults understood.
"Yes."
"Are you going to fix them?"
"I'm going to try."
Noah smiled.
"Mom would like that."
Grant looked down.
"I hope so."
At nine, Megan's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
A man's voice said, "Tell Grant to check the garage."
The call ended.
Grant and Samuel went down together.
On the hood of Grant's car sat a laptop.
A timer glowed on the screen.
10:58:43.
Counting down to eight Monday morning.
Beside the laptop was a note.
CONFESS TO MURDER OR WATCH EVERYTHING BURN.
Grant stared.
Samuel said, "He wants you to claim Thomas intentionally murdered Robert."
"But Edward says he didn't."
"He wants revenge, not truth."
Grant touched nothing.
Cybersecurity experts examined the machine remotely.
The countdown was genuine.
The laptop was linked to an encrypted remote server.
Stopping the local timer would not stop transmission.
They needed Adrian's key.
At eleven fifteen, Edward called.
"Adrian contacted me."
Grant put the call on speaker.
"What did he say?"
"He wants me to make a statement."
"Saying what?"
"That Thomas murdered Robert and attempted to murder me."
"Did he?"
"No."
Grant closed his eyes.
Edward continued.
"I told Adrian no."
"What happened?"
"He said by morning the truth wouldn't matter."
Grant understood.
Adrian was about to manufacture the history he wished had happened.
At midnight, Claire called from detention.
Her attorney had negotiated limited cooperation.
"I know where Adrian goes when he's cornered."
Grant listened.
"Where?"
"Victor had a cabin near Lake Mercer."
Samuel searched.
"Address?"
Claire gave it.
Grant asked, "Why didn't you tell police before?"
"Because I was afraid Adrian would expose me."
"And now?"
Claire's voice broke.
"He already did."
Grant said nothing.
Claire continued.
"I know you hate me."
"This isn't about what I feel."
"I know."
She paused.
"Tell Noah I'm sorry."
Grant's expression hardened.
"You can tell him yourself one day if a court and a therapist decide he wants to hear it."
Claire cried quietly.
Grant did not comfort her.
But he did not hang up.
After a moment she whispered, "That's fair."
Police surrounded the Lake Mercer cabin at three fourteen in the morning.
Adrian was not there.
The cabin had been used recently.
Maps covered one wall.
Photographs of Grant, Claire, Noah, Julian, Margaret, and Edward were pinned across another.
Years of surveillance.
In the bedroom, Samuel found a locked metal case.
Inside were passports under multiple names.
Cash.
Corporate access devices.
And a photograph of Victor Hale standing beside Thomas Vance and Walter Dean's father.
Grant stared at it.
Samuel turned the photograph over.
One sentence was written on the back.
The sons will finish what the fathers began.
Grant realized Adrian's plan was not spontaneous.
It was inherited.
A family mythology fed for decades until revenge became identity.
Then Megan called from the mansion.
"Grant."
"What?"
"Someone is inside."
His blood turned cold.
"Take Noah and lock the bedroom."
"He's not upstairs."
Grant stopped.
"What do you mean?"
"He heard something in Elena's study and went to look."
Grant was already running for the car.
"Megan, find him."
She reached the study.
The room was empty.
The window stood open.
The Little Captain lay on the floor.
Megan's voice broke through the phone.
"Grant."
"What?"
"Noah's gone."
Grant nearly drove the seventy miles back himself.
Police stopped him.
A patrol officer closer to the mansion arrived first.
They found no forced entry.
No blood.
No sign of struggle.
Only Noah's model airplane on the front steps.
Under one wing, written in pencil, were three words.
DAD I FOLLOWED HIM.
Grant stared.
Noah had not been taken.
He had seen Adrian and followed him.
A seven-year-old boy had walked willingly into the dark because he believed he was helping his father.
Grant felt terror unlike anything he had experienced.
Then Megan noticed something.
The wooden airplane had one loose wheel.
Inside the wheel well was Noah's tiny school GPS tag.
The signal was moving.
Toward downtown.
Toward Vance Group headquarters.
May you like
Adrian was taking Noah to the place where the company began its modern life.
And where, at eight that morning, he intended to end it.
