Part 3
“Had?”
Nora folded her arms, then unfolded them when pain tightened through her shoulder.
“My laptop disappeared from my hotel room two days after Miguel Sosa died.”
Daniel stared at her. “You said it was stolen during the conference.”
“It was stolen during the conference.”
“You made it sound random.”
“I didn’t know what it was then.”
“And now?”
“Now I know who had the replacement key.”
Julian asked, “Grant?”
“No. His former operations director, Paul Renner.”
Julian crossed the room slowly and sat in a leather chair.
Paul Renner had died eleven months earlier after a stroke. His obituary had described him as a devoted husband, a tireless civic leader, and an enthusiastic sailor. Nora had read it twice, trying to determine whether death had made him innocent in anyone’s mind but his family’s.
Daniel rubbed one hand across his mouth. “Why come back now?”
Nora looked through the glass again.
“Because Paul’s widow mailed me something.”
Julian’s eyes lifted. “What?”
“A storage receipt.”
“For what?”
“A safety-deposit box at a bank in Oak Park.”
Daniel’s voice was almost a whisper. “You went there?”
“I couldn’t. The box was held through a company Paul controlled. The company dissolved after his death, and the bank won’t release anything without authority from the estate.”
“His widow contacted you.”
“She mailed the receipt anonymously. I traced the postmark, then called her. She denied sending it.”
Julian sat forward. “Maybe she didn’t.”
“The envelope contained a note in Paul’s handwriting.”
“What did it say?”
Nora looked at Daniel before answering.
“It said, ‘You were right about Saturday.’”
The door opened.
Grant entered without knocking.
Julian rose.
“I told you to stay outside.”
Grant closed the door behind him. “You don’t get to hold a private tribunal in my family’s house while a hundred people speculate.”
“This is not your family’s house,” Julian said again.
Grant’s gaze moved to Nora. “And she doesn’t get to invent murder because she needs a reason for why her career collapsed.”
Daniel stepped between them.
Grant stopped.
The room became still in a different way than the garden had been. There, the threat had been physical and immediate. Here, it settled into words, records, dead men, and reputations built over decades.
Nora said, “No one said murder.”
“You were about to.”
“No. You were afraid I would.”
Grant glanced toward Julian. “This is what she does. She takes a technical dispute and turns it into a moral performance.”
“A man died,” Nora said.
“A man died because a subcontractor ignored a safety perimeter.”
“The perimeter should have contained an empty facade.”
“The official investigation found multiple failures.”
“It did.”
“Including yours.”
“Yes.”
Grant paused.
Nora watched the surprise move through him. He had expected denial. People like Grant prepared for resistance better than agreement.
She continued. “I signed an authorization I should have read more carefully. I accepted a revised logistics schedule during a phone call because I was trying to get to my mother’s oncology appointment. I trusted a summary from your office. That was careless. I have never said otherwise.”
Daniel looked at her with hurt that was not accusation yet but might become it.
Grant’s mouth tightened. “You’re rehearsed.”
“I’ve had four years.”
Julian held up a hand. “Grant, did Paul Renner have access to Nora’s hotel room?”
“No.”
Nora said, “He arranged the conference reservations.”
“That doesn’t mean he had keys.”
“He texted me from the lobby eleven minutes before the laptop disappeared.”
Grant turned to her. “You told investigators you left it unsecured.”
“I told company counsel I left it on a desk in a locked room.”
“You signed their statement.”
“I signed a settlement because my mother’s treatment had already burned through her retirement account, my insurance ended when you fired me, and your lawyers offered enough money to keep her house.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
Grant looked at him. “You didn’t know that either?”
“Don’t speak to him,” Nora said.
Grant smiled again, smaller now. “What exactly does he know?”
“Enough.”
Daniel looked at Nora.
The word hung between them, exposed as an answer neither of them believed.
Julian walked to the door and opened it.
“Leave.”
Grant did not move. “You’re taking her word over mine.”
“I’m removing a man who assaulted a guest in my home.”
“She shoved me.”
Julian’s voice remained even. “And if you believe that justified what you did, you should not be in this room, this building, or any position of authority in my company.”
Grant’s face hardened. “Your company?”
“Yes.”
“You gave me the title.”
“I can take it away.”
“You’d destroy the firm over an accusation from someone who signed away her claims.”
Julian’s composure altered. Not much. A slight lowering of his chin, a breath taken through the nose. Nora sensed something older than anger beneath it.
“I built the firm,” he said. “I will decide what destroys it.”
Grant looked at Elise through the glass wall. She stood alone near the cocktail table, staring at the untouched champagne flute.
Then he left.
Julian locked the door behind him.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Daniel turned to Nora. “We need to go home.”
She heard the strain in his voice. He had defended her without hesitation. Now he wanted privacy for the questions he had earned.
Julian said, “I can have a car take you.”
“We have one downstairs,” Daniel replied.
Nora picked up the water glass, realized she no longer wanted it, and set it down again.
“What happens now?” she asked Julian.
“I suspend Grant tonight.”
“He’ll say you prejudged him.”
“I did see him put his hands on you.”
“I mean Saint Alder.”
Julian looked suddenly older.
“Tomorrow morning, I will ask outside counsel to reopen the internal review.”
“Your outside counsel wrote the settlement that buried it.”
“I’ll hire different counsel.”
“And the board?”
“I’ll call an emergency meeting.”
May you like
“Half the board has known Grant since he was a child.”
“Then they’ll have to decide whether that matters more than the truth.”
