Chương 6
“Not here,” he said.
“Here is fine.”
The receptionist looked down at her desk.
Grant descended. “Conference room.”
The room faced the river. A model of a luxury townhome complex covered one end of the table. Tiny trees stood beside tiny parked cars. Along the model’s western edge, a narrow strip had been marked ACCESS ROAD.
Ethan recognized the shape of his parents’ rear lot.
Grant closed the door.
“How is Dad?”
“You know how he is.”
“I know what you told me.”
“You knew he didn’t have his medication.”
“I ordered it.”
“With what money?”
Grant set his phone on the table. “Do you want answers, or do you want to perform?”
“Where is the half million?”
“In projects.”
“Your projects.”
“Assets.”
“Can you return it today?”
“No.”
“Then it isn’t an asset to them.”
Grant pulled out a chair but did not sit. “The money wasn’t a gift to Mom and Dad. You sent it for their care.”
“Yes.”
“I provided care.”
“They were cutting pills with a rusted knife.”
“I arranged appointments. I paid taxes. I handled repairs.”
“The roof still leaks.”
“Because the house is worth less than the land under it.”
Ethan looked at the model.
Grant saw him recognize the access road.
“The rear parcel connects two pieces I already control,” Grant said. “Without it, the project dies. With it, the project employs eighty people and puts money back into that neighborhood.”
“You transferred land from two sick old people for ten dollars.”
“The company assumed obligations.”
“What obligations?”
“Taxes, maintenance, future housing.”
“They knew nothing about future housing.”
“Dad knew.”
“Dad thought he was signing drainage papers.”
“Dad hears what allows him to avoid making a decision.”
Ethan stepped closer to the model. A small block represented the Bennett house. In the finished plan, it was gone.
“What happens to their home?”
Grant’s silence answered.
Ethan looked up. “You were going to demolish it.”
“Eventually.”
“With them in it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Where were they supposed to go?”
“I had a unit planned.”
“Where?”
“One of the senior buildings.”
“Which building?”
“The phase hasn’t started.”
“So nowhere.”
Grant’s jaw tightened. “You bought a condo this week.”
The knowledge chilled Ethan.
“How do you know that?”
“Mom mentioned you were looking.”
“She didn’t know I closed.”
“Your company address receives public filings. People talk.”
“You thought I’d take them.”
“I thought you might finally participate.”
Ethan placed both hands on the back of a chair.
“Did you block their calls?”
“I routed calls because Dad was phoning contractors, banks, and city offices while confused.”
“Did you block calls to me?”
“I filtered calls.”
“That means yes.”
“It means Mom called you whenever she and Dad argued. You were running a company. I was there.”
“You made sure I heard only you.”
“I made sure someone could do the work.”
Ethan picked up the tiny model house between two fingers. It came loose from its base.
Grant’s eyes followed it.
Ethan set it down in the center of the table.
“You used my crews to build the wall.”
For the first time, Grant’s composure shifted.
“Nolan billed that incorrectly.”
“My credentials approved the materials.”
“I don’t know anything about your password practices.”
“Consulting invoices. Fuel. Equipment.”
Grant looked toward the glass wall. Employees moved through the office beyond it.
“Keep your voice down.”
Ethan almost smiled.
“There you are.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t care that they had no food. You care that your staff might hear.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“Neither is thirty-eight dollars.”
Grant reached for his phone. “You need to leave.”
“I’m calling the bank.”
“That will freeze projects, including money that could repay them.”
“You already froze their lives.”
“You think business is a checking account. It isn’t. Money moves. Land moves. Risk moves.”
“Food should move into their refrigerator.”
Grant’s nostrils flared. “I spent three years cleaning up after them while you sent checks and called yourself a son.”
The accusation found its mark because part of it was true.
Ethan’s grip tightened on the chair.
Grant continued. “Dad missed appointments. Mom refused home care. The basement flooded twice. I dealt with it. I got them approved for assistance they wouldn’t accept. I paid the insurance when your transfers were late.”
“My transfers were never late.”
“One was.”
“By two days.”
“It mattered.”
“Not half a million dollars.”
“No, the half million kept my company alive while I carried a family you outsourced.”
Grant’s voice remained controlled, but sweat had appeared along his hairline.
Ethan studied him.
“Your company is failing.”
“My company is leveraged.”
“That’s a polite word.”
“It’s an accurate word.”
“You stole from them to cover debt.”
“I borrowed against money the family could afford.”
“They couldn’t afford bread.”
“Because Dad refused delivery. Because Mom hides food. Because they are impossible.”
“Because you controlled every dollar.”
Grant looked away.
That was the closest thing to an admission Ethan expected to receive.
He left without touching the model again.
By the time he reached his car, Grant had sent three messages.
Think before you destroy both companies.
You approved work for my projects.
Your name is on more than you know.
Call me when you are rational.
Ethan took screenshots, forwarded them to Leah, and then changed the contact name from Grant to Grant Bennett. The small act felt childish. It also felt necessary, as though naming him fully might keep Ethan from reading the messages as a brother’s irritation instead of a warning.
He sat in the car until his hands stopped shaking.
A delivery truck blocked the street. Its driver climbed down, checked an address, climbed back in, and moved ten feet forward. The delay irritated Ethan beyond proportion. He struck the steering wheel once with the heel of his palm.
Then he saw his reflection in the rearview mirror and stopped.
Frank had warned him that Grant would use his anger.
Ethan called Leah.
“I need an outside forensic accountant.”
May you like
“I have two names.”
“Not anyone who has worked for us before.”
