Chapter 4 - What Harrison Never Told Her
Harrison did not speak until they were back inside his townhouse.
Grace placed the newspaper clipping on the dining table between them.
“Start talking.”
Harrison stared at his son’s photograph.
Daniel had been smiling when the picture was taken.
Thirty-two.
Two years before his death.
Grace remembered almost nothing about the man in the photograph.
A laugh.
The smell of cedar aftershave.
Strong hands lifting her onto his shoulders.
A blue tie she used to pull when she wanted his attention.
Then a funeral.
Black umbrellas.
Her mother crying behind a closed bedroom door.
That was most of her father.
Grace leaned forward.
“What did Dad find?”
Harrison closed his eyes.
“Financial irregularities.”
Grace waited.
“At Bellamy?”
“Yes.”
“How serious?”
“I didn’t know then.”
“And now?”
“I know they were more serious than I wanted to believe.”
The words hurt more than Grace expected.
“You ignored him.”
Harrison looked at her.
“I disagreed with him.”
“Don’t clean it up.”
“He came to me believing someone inside Bellamy was moving money through vendors connected to hotel renovation projects.”
“How much?”
“At the time?”
“About twelve million dollars.”
Grace stared.
“That isn’t an accounting mistake.”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I ordered an internal review.”
“Conducted by whom?”
Harrison did not answer.
Grace understood.
“Adrian?”
“No.”
“Adrian wasn’t COO then.”
“Who?”
“Martin Locke.”
Grace felt the pieces shift.
“Adrian’s father.”
Harrison nodded.
“Martin had been my chief financial officer for nineteen years.”
“And his review found nothing.”
“Minor invoice errors.”
“Duplicated vendor codes.”
“No criminal activity.”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“And you believed him.”
“I wanted to.”
There it was.
The most dangerous sentence in any family.
I wanted to.
Grace pushed back from the table.
“My father died while investigating fraud connected to the father of the man you later made COO.”
“Grace—”
“And nobody thought maybe that was worth mentioning?”
“There was no evidence connecting Daniel’s accident to Bellamy.”
“Accident.”
Harrison flinched.
Grace saw it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No.”
“You reacted.”
Harrison stood and walked toward the window.
Grace followed.
“What aren’t you saying?”
“Daniel called me the night he died.”
Her breathing stopped.
“What did he say?”
“He said he had proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“He wouldn’t tell me on the phone.”
“He wanted me to meet him.”
“Where?”
“At Bellamy’s.”
“The restaurant?”
“Yes.”
Grace looked toward the clipping.
“What time?”
“Eleven.”
“And?”
“I never went.”
The room became unbearably quiet.
Grace stared at her grandfather.
“Why?”
“I was angry.”
“About what?”
“Daniel had accused Martin of stealing.”
“He accused two board members of helping.”
“He said if I refused to listen, he would take everything to the authorities.”
“I told him he was being reckless.”
Grace’s hands clenched.
“And then?”
“I had a board dinner.”
“I chose to finish it.”
“Daniel left Bellamy’s around eleven twenty.”
“His car went through a barrier on the West Side Highway forty minutes later.”
Grace turned away.
She could not look at Harrison.
Twenty-four years.
All that time she thought her father’s death was random.
Tragic.
Meaningless.
Now there was an unanswered question attached to it.
“What happened to the proof?”
“Never found.”
“His briefcase?”
“Recovered from the car.”
“Laptop?”
“Damaged.”
“Phone?”
“Missing.”
Grace looked back.
“Missing?”
“The police believed it was lost during the crash.”
“And you accepted that too?”
Harrison’s face tightened.
“I was grieving my son.”
“So was Mom.”
“And maybe she knew something.”
“She knew Daniel believed there was corruption.”
“Did she know about Martin?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why she took me away from you?”
Harrison lowered his head.
“Partly.”
Grace felt suddenly unsteady.
All those years she had quietly resented Sarah Bennett for keeping her away from her grandfather.
Now she wondered whether her mother had been protecting her.
Her phone rang.
Marcus.
Grace answered immediately.
“We found the waiter.”
“What waiter?”
“The temporary banquet server from last night.”
“He wasn’t on our normal staff roster.”
Grace remembered a young man carrying bread baskets near Table Twelve.
“What about him?”
“He used fake identification.”
“Security footage shows him entering the private corridor at six fourteen.”
“With Adrian?”
“No.”
“With Victoria Caldwell.”
Grace’s eyes went to Harrison.
Marcus continued.
“And Grace?”
“Yes?”
“He placed something under Brooke Caldwell’s chair.”
“What?”
“We’re still checking.”
Grace stood.
“I’m coming.”
“There’s another problem.”
“What?”
“The police called.”
“Brooke Caldwell filed a statement.”
Grace waited.
“She says you threatened her before the incident.”
Grace almost laughed.
“Of course she does.”
“She also says you told her you would use your grandfather to destroy her family.”
“That’s absurd.”
“I know.”
“But she has a witness.”
“Who?”
May you like
Marcus hesitated.
“Adrian Locke.”
