Chapter 8: Richard's Last Move
The call came from Hargrove on Wednesday.
Not to Luca.
To me, directly, on my personal number.
I didn't know how he had gotten it.
I suspected I didn't want to know.
"Mrs.
Cole," he said.
"I apologize for reaching out this way.
I want to be straightforward with you."
"Then be straightforward."
"My client is prepared to make a full restitution of the transferred funds.
All eleven million, returned to Cole Construction within thirty days, with interest.
In exchange, he's asking that the state attorney referral be withdrawn and the civil action settled privately."
"That's not my decision to make.
The referral is already in the state attorney's hands."
"You have standing to request a withdrawal.
Given that you are still, technically, a Cole family member."
"Until Tuesday," I said.
"After that I won't be."
A pause.
"Mrs.
Cole, my client is sixty-seven years old.
A criminal proceeding of this nature—"
"Mr.
Hargrove.
Your client spent six years moving money out of a company his son helped build.
He brought a woman into his son's life as a deliberate instrument to accelerate that process.
He stood in a room on Saturday night and said nothing while his son publicly humiliated his wife.
And then he sent me a threatening message on Sunday morning." I let that sit for a moment.
"The restitution offer is noted.
I'll pass it to Luca.
But I won't be requesting any withdrawal."
Silence.
"He'll fight this," Hargrove said.
His voice had changed — less polished now, more direct.
"He has resources you haven't accounted for.
Associates you don't know about.
This could become very unpleasant for your family."
My brothers' faces came to mind.
Dominic.
Matteo.
Luca.
Gabriel.
Nico.
"Mr.
Hargrove," I said.
"My brothers spent the last three weeks preparing for exactly this conversation.
Whatever resources your client has, I promise you — we've already looked at them."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"I'll convey your position," he said.
"Please do."
I ended the call and sat very still for a moment.
Then I called Dominic.
"Hargrove just called me directly," I said.
"He made a restitution offer and then made a veiled threat."
"We heard."
I stopped.
"You heard?"
"Nico had a flag on Hargrove's outgoing calls.
Standard precaution after the Sunday message." A pause.
"You handled it well."
"He said Richard has associates we haven't accounted for."
"He does," Dominic said.
"Two of them.
We've known about them since Thursday.
Luca briefed the state attorney's investigator this morning."
I exhaled slowly.
"You were already ahead of it."
"We've been ahead of it since the night of the party," Dominic said.
"That's why we came prepared."
"Is there anything else I should know?"
A short pause.
"Richard made one phone call on Sunday evening.
Not to Hargrove.
Not to Margaret.
To a man named Forsythe — a former Cole Construction project manager who was quietly let go two years ago."
"What did they talk about?"
"We're still working on that.
But Forsythe's name appears in the margin of one of the transfer documents.
Handwritten.
Gabriel spotted it on a second pass."
I pressed my fingers to my temple.
"So there's more."
"There may be," Dominic said.
"We'll know more by Friday."
I looked at the wall.
Outside, the afternoon was grey and ordinary.
"Dominic," I said.
"When does this end?"
His voice was steady.
"It ends when it's finished.
Not before."
"And if Richard does have something we haven't found yet?"
"Then we find it before he uses it."
I believed him.
I had believed him since I was seven years old and he had stood between me and something frightening in a way that made the frightening thing feel smaller.
"Friday," I said.
"Friday," he confirmed.
I hung up and looked at the window for a long time.
May you like
Somewhere in the city, Richard Cole was deciding whether to fight or fold.
And somewhere in a file Nico hadn't shown me yet, a name in a margin was waiting to become the next problem.
