Chapter 9 - GRANT
Every person in the room turned toward Grant Mercer.
My head of security.
My best friend since college.
The man who had tackled Owen Kane.
The man who knew every camera, route, key, and guard shift on the estate.
Grant did not move.
"Ethan, don't."
Mara held out her hand.
"Weapon. Slowly."
He gave it to her.
Then his badge.
Then his phone.
"Search everything."
We did.
His phone was clean.
His financial records showed nothing unusual.
But the estate server logs showed his credentials had been used to create Owen Kane's fake security badge.
Three weeks earlier.
"I didn't do that," Grant said.
"Your login did," Mara replied.
"My login requires biometric confirmation."
Rebecca looked at the system design.
"Unless an administrator resets it."
"Who can?" I asked.
Grant answered quietly.
"Julian."
Again Julian. Too easy. Too obvious.
Mara searched Grant's office anyway.
Inside a locked drawer she found a photograph of Adrian and Grant in Afghanistan.
On the back Adrian had written:
If I don't make it home, trust Grant with Ethan.
I stared at my friend.
"You knew Adrian was investigating Julian."
Grant nodded.
"Yes."
"And you never told me."
"Adrian made me promise until he had proof. Then he died."
"That was when you should have told me."
"I was afraid whoever killed him would go after you next."
"That worked out well."
His face tightened.
"I know."
Mara's phone rang.
Owen Kane had been spotted at a motel fifty miles north.
Police surrounded it.
The room was empty.
On the bed lay a Vale Security uniform.
A burner phone.
And a photograph of Grant entering my estate that morning.
Written across it:
HE DOESN'T KNOW YET.
On the burner phone was a draft message never sent.
May you like
TO: G.M.
YOUR TURN TO FINISH WHAT ADRIAN STARTED.
