Chapter 7: What Gerald Pruitt Carried
Nathan told Grace to stay in Daniel's office.
She argued for thirty seconds, then looked at Lily and stopped arguing.
Gerald Pruitt was waiting at a coffee shop two blocks away.
He was a compact man in his early forties with the kind of careful stillness that comes from years of watching other people without being watched back.
He had a paper cup in front of him that he hadn't touched.
Nathan sat down across from him.
"You called me," Nathan said.
"Talk."
Pruitt looked at his hands.
"I delivered that letter to Grace Calloway five years ago.
I want to be clear that I knew what it was.
I knew it was fabricated.
I was paid by Edward Hartwell directly, in cash, and I was told that if I ever disclosed the arrangement, he would ensure I faced crjminal charges for a separate matter involving a former client." He paused.
"That separate matter was also fabricated.
He had documentation prepared.
He keeps documentation prepared for everyone who works for him."
"He blackmailed you into silence."
"Yes."
"And now?"
Pruitt reached into his jacket and produced a small USB drive.
He set it on the table between them.
"I've been recording my interactions with Edward Hartwell for the past two years," he said.
"Audio.
Some video.
I didn't know when I'd need it.
I knew I would eventually."
Nathan looked at the drive.
He didn't touch it.
"Why are you doing this now?" he said.
"Why today?"
---
Pruitt was quiet for a moment.
"Yesterday morning, Hartwell called me into his office.
He told me that the situation with Grace Calloway had become unmanageable and that it needed to be resolved permanently." He looked up.
"He didn't use those exact words.
He never does.
But I've worked for him long enough to understand what he means."
Nathan kept his face still.
"He wanted you to—"
"He wanted the problem to disappear," Pruitt said.
"I told him I would handle it.
Then I called you."
"You could be lying," Nathan said.
"This could be a move to get inside our case."
"Yes," Pruitt said.
"It could be.
You'll have to decide." He pushed the USB drive an inch closer.
"But I'll tell you what's on that drive.
There are eleven recordings.
Three of them are conversations between Hartwell and your father from the year before your father died.
Your father was trying to get out of the agreement.
He told Hartwell he'd made a mistake.
He said he wanted to find Grace and tell you the truth." Pruitt paused.
"Hartwell told him that if he did, he would release information that would destroy the Cole Group's stock value within forty-eight hours.
He had fabricated financial records.
Your father believed him."
Nathan stared at the drive.
"My father tried to undo it," he said.
"He tried for eight months.
Hartwell blocked every move." Pruitt's voice was flat, factual.
"The letter your father left you — the one in the envelope — he wrote it because he knew he was running out of time.
He was ill.
He didn't think he had another year." He paused.
"He was right."
---
Nathan picked up the drive.
"I'm taking this to Detective Reyes," he said.
"If it's what you say it is, you'll be treated as a cooperating witness.
If it's not—"
"I know," Pruitt said.
"I'm prepared for either."
Nathan stood.
Then he stopped.
"The letter Grace received five years ago," he said.
"The one in my name.
Did you write it?"
Pruitt looked up.
"Hartwell dictated it.
I typed it.
I signed your name." He held Nathan's gaze.
"I have thought about that letter every day since.
I want you to know that."
"Thinking about it didn't help Grace," Nathan said.
"Or Lily."
He walked out without looking back.
---
Detective Reyes had the drive analyzed by two o'clock.
The audio files were intact, unedited, and timestamped.
The three conversations between Richard Cole and Edward Hartwell were exactly as Pruitt had described.
Nathan listened to the second recording in Reyes's office with Grace sitting beside him.
His father's voice came through the speaker tired and strained, nothing like the man Nathan remembered.
*"Edward, I'm asking you to let this go.
The boy deserves to know."*
*"Richard.
We've been through this.
The agreement is binding.
If you move against it, I move against you.
It's very simple."*
*"She has a child.
My grandchild."*
*"She has a complication.
That's all she is.
Don't make this harder than it needs to be."*
Nathan reached over and stopped the recording.
The room was quiet.
Grace had her hand pressed flat against the table, fingers spread, the way you brace yourself when the ground moves.
"He tried," she said.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"He actually tried."
"Not hard enough," Nathan said.
"Not soon enough."
"No," Grace said.
"But he tried."
She looked at Lily, who was drawing on a notepad in the corner, completely absorbed, her small tongue pressed to her lip in concentration.
"I don't know what to do with that," Grace said.
"Neither do I," Nathan said.
"Not yet."
Reyes came back in.
"Pruitt has agreed to full cooperation.
He's being formally interviewed now.
Hartwell's attorney called twenty minutes ago demanding to know why Pruitt missed a scheduled check-in." She paused.
"Hartwell knows something is wrong.
He'll move tonight."
"What will he do?" Nathan asked.
"He'll try to get ahead of it," Reyes said.
"A press statement.
Possibly a counter-filing.
Possibly something worse." She looked at Nathan directly.
"Is there anything in the Cole Group's financials that he could use against you?
Anything that looks irregular even if it isn't?"
Nathan thought for three seconds.
"The Pacific division restructuring.
It was legitimate, but the timing looks unusual on paper."
"Then he'll use it," Reyes said.
"Get your financial team ready.
Tonight."
Nathan was already reaching for his phone when it buzzed with a text from a number he didn't recognize.
*This is Victoria.
Not from my regular phone.
I need to tell you something my father doesn't know I know.
Meet me alone.
Please.
One hour.*
He showed the screen to Reyes.
She read it.
Looked up.
May you like
"Your call."
Nathan typed back: *Where?*
