Chapter 6: The Witness in the Hallway
Grace didn't ask questions.
She picked up Lily, grabbed the small bag she'd brought to work that morning, and followed me to the garage.
We were in my car and through the gate in under four minutes.
I drove without a clear destination for the first ten minutes, watching the mirrors, thinking.
Then I pulled into the parking lot of a hotel two towns over — anonymous, mid-range, the kind of place Victoria would never think to look.
I booked two rooms under my assistant's name, paid cash, and got us inside.
Lily was asleep before Grace had finished settling her on the bed.
Children that age could sleep through almost anything if they felt safe.
I stood in the doorway watching her and felt something I didn't have a word for yet.
Grace came and stood beside me.
"The text," she said quietly.
"Do you know who sent it?"
"No.
But they knew I'd opened the safe.
Which means they were either in the house, or they have eyes on someone who was."
"Victoria."
"Or someone close to her." I looked at Grace.
"You said she hired you because she wanted to watch you.
Did you notice anyone else?
Anyone who seemed to be reporting back to her?"
Grace thought for a moment.
"The property manager.
A man named Ellison.
He came by twice in the six weeks I worked there.
Both times Victoria met him outside.
Both times she seemed tense after."
"Ellison." I didn't recognize the name.
"What did he look like?"
She described him.
Medium height, gray at the temples, a habit of looking at his phone while he talked to you.
I typed the name into my contacts search.
Nothing.
Then I searched it against the Hargrove files.
Daniel Ellison.
Listed as a consultant on the Hargrove due diligence team.
Hired eight months ago through a firm called Meridian Advisory Group.
Meridian.
The same word as Vantage Meridian.
"He's hers," I said.
Grace sat down on the edge of the chair by the window.
"So she had someone inside your professional life and someone watching your house."
"For at least eight months.
Probably longer."
"Nathan." Grace's voice was careful.
"The paternity document in the safe.
If she had Ellison monitoring the house, she may have known I put it there.
She may have been waiting for the right moment to use it against me rather than destroy it."
"Why wait?"
"Because a forged signature is a crjme.
If she destroyed it, it was just gone.
But if she kept it and framed me for forging it—" Grace stopped.
"She could have me removed, deported, and discredited.
All at once.
And Lily would have no legal claim to anything."
The room felt very still.
"She planned all of this," I said.
"I think she's been planning it since the day I knocked on that door four years ago." Grace looked at her hands.
"I think I was never just a problem to her.
I was a variable she decided to control."
My phone rang.
Unknown number — the same one that had texted me.
I answered.
"Mr.
Cole." A man's voice.
Older, careful.
"My name is Arthur Finch.
I'm a private investigator.
I was hired fourteen months ago by your father's estate attorney to look into Victoria Prescott's background.
I've been trying to reach you through proper channels for six weeks.
She's been intercepting your mail."
I stood up.
"Say that again."
"Your father's estate attorney, a man named Gerald Marsh, hired me after your father expressed concerns about Ms.
Prescott before he passed.
He didn't think you would listen to him directly.
He was afraid she had too much influence over you already." A pause.
"Mr.
Cole, I have a full file.
Forty-seven pages.
I've been waiting for a safe moment to get it to you."
Grace was watching my face.
"Where are you?" I asked.
"Sitting in the lobby of the hotel you just checked into," Arthur Finch said.
May you like
"I followed you from the house.
I've been following you for three days, waiting for you to be somewhere she wasn't."
