Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
GRANT
T he handcuffs rattled across the ice-cold metal table as Grant shifted on the uncomfortable chair. He stared at his reflection in the two-way mirror. The details of his arrest ran through his mind along with the raw images of Christopher Metcalfe’s dead body.
At least this time he had video proof that the man was dead when he walked into the room. He hoped that helped.
The door to the room opened and a plainclothes detective strolled in. He held back rolling his eyes as the man slapped a folder down in front of him. “Well, well, we meet again.”
Grant heaved a sigh and shook his head. “I’m not talking without my attorney.”
“Of course, you aren’t.” The detective plopped into the chair across from him with a grin. “I’m getting used to hearing that out of you.”
“Then why do you keep coming in here when my attorney isn’t present?”
“Figured we could just talk. Shoot the breeze. You’re here so much, I’d like to get to know you better.”
Grant offered him an unimpressed glance. He really detested how cops tried to get anything they could use against him. He clasped one hand over his closed fist and rested his forehead against them. “I don’t really need any more friends, thanks.”
“Really? That’s surprising. Because it doesn’t seem like you have too many friends at all. The people around you keep dropping off or getting into trouble.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“How about the truth? Why do bad things keep happening in your vicinity?”
Grant flexed his jaw, refusing to let the man goad him into an answer. He hoped Mitchell would arrive soon and put an end to this charade. He wanted to share the information with Julia and check on Sierra.
He hadn’t learned much, but the death of Christopher Metcalfe, who had led Julia straight to Lydia had to mean something. Maybe once they talked about it, they could figure out a way to pin this on Lydia and take down at least one member of DG Industries.
“I have nothing to say,” he answered.
“Well, shucks, there goes that topic. Let’s try another. How’s that pretty wife of yours doing? Julia, was it?”
Heat rose as the comment triggered a wave of anger in him. The detective knew bringing up Julia would frustrate him based off of their previous encounters. But he wasn’t willing to give in to the man this time. “She’s doing fine.”
“Really? You know, I’m surprised she’s still with you. With all this turmoil around you all the time, you’d think a sweet girl like that would have run for the hills by now.”
Grant tried to smirk, though the fact that he wondered the exact same thing made it difficult. He would have loved to slap the man down by telling him they were in love, but he feared that was one-sided.
“Maybe it’s because she’s afraid to leave. You don’t have a very nice reputation. Maybe you like to slap her around a little.”
He gritted his teeth as he forced himself to stay seated rather than lunge across the table and strangle the man. “I have never laid a hand on Julia.”
“Hmm, that’s surprising. You seem to have a temper.”
“Only when people accuse me of things I don’t do.”
“Has Julia ever accused you of things you haven’t done?”
“No,” Grant countered, “my wife believes in me.”
“Oh, right.” The cop bobbed his head up and down. “I remember now. She said that at one of those press conferences you held when you were running for Senate. The ones where all your terrible behavior was put on display. That couldn’t have been easy for her. Or you.”
“It wasn’t. But I can admit when I’m wrong. And I was wrong then.”
“But little Julia stood by you. That’s sweet. I wonder when it’ll finally get to be too much. Maybe after your second murder charge?”
Grant’s nostrils flared as he sighed. The door opened again before he had to formulate a response and Mitchell strode inside. “I’d like a moment with my client.”
“Sure thing,” the cop said as he grabbed the folder and rose. “We’ll be back.”
“Can’t wait,” Grant said as he headed for the door. He spun when he reached it, winking and clicking his tongue.
“We really, really need to stop meeting like this, Grant.” Mitchell set his polished briefcase down on the table and sank into the chair across from him.
“I know, Mitchell, but this time, I have proof that I didn’t do this.”
“Proof?”
“I video called Worthington. It’s all recorded that when I walked into that room, Metcalfe was already dead.”
“Who’s to say you didn’t murder him, then place the video call?”
“There’s no evidence of that. No blood on my clothes or prints on the knife.”
“You didn’t touch anything, right?”
Grant winced a little. “Yes and no.”
“Please tell me you did not touch his body or the knife.”
“The knife, no. But I did go through the drawers and his pockets. I had his cell phone when the police came in. But I used a handkerchief, so there are no prints.”
Mitchell slid his eyes closed and shook his head. “Where were you earlier this evening?”
“At home. With lots of people. Everyone can corroborate that. Worthington, Julia, Sierra, Kyle. Even Lydia.”
Mitchell bobbed his head up and down as he jotted down the notes. “That’s good. If we get a time of death from the M.E. maybe we can prove you couldn’t have done it.”
“Prove. As far as I know, I haven’t been formally charged. Do you think that’s coming?”
“Hard to say. The DA’s not going to plow into charges again and risk another embarrassment like he did the last time. But will they try to put some pressure on you? Maybe.”
Grant slumped in his chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Mitchell, you’ve got to get me out of this. I need to be home.”
“What were you doing there anyway?” the man asked.
“I got a call. Told me to go to that address if I wanted information on DG Industries. I was supposed to be there sixty minutes after the call. Worthington can confirm that and so can my call log.”
“Let me go see what I can do. Sit tight and do not say anything to that cop.”
“Done,” Grant said.
“And don’t lunge at him if he mentions Julia.”
Grant stretched his neck, then shook his head. “You’d be proud of me. He’s already done that, and I didn’t react.”
“Good. I’ll see what I can find out.” Mitchell disappeared from the room, leaving him alone again.
He sucked in a deep breath as he drummed his fingers against the table. With any luck, his attorney could make this go away. At least for now. He desperately wanted to know how his daughter was doing, and let Julia know the latest developments. She’d been the one who’d suspected Metcalfe first. He really wanted her take on the situation.
As he sat alone, he went over the conversation with the detective, patting himself on the back over his ability not to react. His stomach clenched as the man’s words echoed in his mind. You’d think she’d have run for the hills by now . Except she couldn’t. She was tied to him by a contract. Was that the only thing binding them together?
Not on his end. But maybe on hers. He recalled her words on the beach in Maine. Even after that terrible argument. We’re a team.
But he also recalled how she’d looked in another man’s arms. His hand tightened into a fist as he recalled her soft gaze up at her former fiancé, Luke. How easily she’d smiled at him. How he’d made her laugh.
At least the man wasn’t around now. Maybe a little distance would make her more likely to accept him rather than go running back to Luke the moment their contract ended.
He had to come up with a plan to address that. One that ensured success on his part. Maybe a trip to the cabin. Somewhere quiet where they could talk, and she wouldn’t feel overwhelmed.
Before he could put the final touches on filling the luxury cabin in the middle of the woods with roses to surprise her, the door opened again. Mitchell strode in, a stern expression etched into his aging features.
“I don’t like that face, Mitchell.”
“Sorry, it’s the only one I have,” he said as he settled into the chair.
“Let me guess. They’re looking to pin this murder on me.”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “They aren’t. That’s the good news. There’s no evidence. Between the initial time of death, your video, the call on your phone, and various other things, they’re not going to charge you. You are free to go, but they are asking that you do not leave the New Orleans area just yet.”
Grant heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank heavens. But what’s with the look on your face?”
“I spoke with Worthington.”
“Okay? He’s usually fairly accommodating. What happened?”
“It wasn’t anything Worthington did, it’s what he said.” Mitchell set his eyes on Grant, his expression still grim. “I’m sorry, Grant, but I have some bad news.”
Grant’s muscles tensed as his eyes went wide. What had happened now? Had Sierra confronted Lydia? No, Worthington wouldn’t have told Mitchell that. Was it Julia? Had she left just like the detective suggested?
Mitchell licked his lips. “Sierra and Julia were in an accident. They’re both at St. Mary’s Memorial.”
A jolt of panic shot through Grant, his heart pounding in his ears. The room spun around him, each beat of his heart echoing the terrifying possibility of losing Julia and Sierra. A knot tightened in his stomach, the reality of their danger crashing down on him like a physical weight.
Memories of Julia’s last accident rushed into his mind, unbidden. How had this happened? And how bad was it? “What?” he choked out as he tugged against the handcuffs. “Mitchell, you have to get me out here. I need to get to them.”
“I’ve told them that. They should be in any minute to remove the handcuffs. I’ll take you straight to the hospital.”
Grant nodded, though he couldn’t bring himself to look at the man. His thoughts, distracted with worry, ranged from bad to worse. He imagined sitting vigil at both of their sides or complicated surgeries being performed on them. He wondered if they hovered close to death.
The emotions of almost losing Julia in the last accident flowed through him, twisting his hands into fists as he waited, helpless. His eyes turned misty, but he blinked away any tears as the door opened and the detective strolled inside as though he had all the time in the world.
“Get these handcuffs off my client, detective. He’s just learned his wife and daughter were in an accident and are in the hospital,” Mitchell said as he rose.
The man actually appeared surprised. “Wow, that’s a shame. It really is dangerous to be around you, isn’t it?”
Grant bristled at the statement, flexing his jaw as he thrust his wrists out to demand the handcuffs be removed.
The detective eyed him as he unlocked them and slipped them off.
Before the cold metal even left his skin, he was out the door, hurrying down the hall with Mitchell racing to keep up. “Let’s go, Mitch. I have to get there.”
The man nodded as they stepped into the cool night air. The breeze offered him little relief after being cooped up in the interrogation room. He slid into the passenger seat of Mitchell’s car, drumming his fingers on the door as he waited for Mitchell to fire the engine.
“Did Worthington have any information on how they are?”
“No, but I have your phone,” Mitchell said, pulling it from his pocket. “You can call him.”
Grant snatched it from his attorney as the car reversed out of the parking spot. His stomach turned over as he spotted the missed calls from the hospital. He pressed the call button to dial his butler. The man picked up on the first ring.
“Mr. Harrington, have you had any luck with your case?”
“No charges. I’m out and on my way to the hospital. Mitchell told me. What happened? Do you know how they are?”
“I spoke with Mrs. Harrington. She said she was fine, and Ms. Sierra was more or less okay. She was, however, quite worried about your predicament.”
Grant heaved a sigh as he slid his eyes closed. She knew. And, as always, she was more worried about someone else than herself. “At least my problem worked itself out. That’s one less worry.”
“Yes, sir. A very good thing. Please keep me informed about both Mrs. Harrington and Ms. Sierra.”
“I will. We’re here now. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”
Grant leapt from the car before it came to a full stop and raced into the emergency room. He hurried toward the nurse’s station before he spotted Kyle. The man motioned toward the doors leading to the patient rooms before he shuffled toward the wall to press a button.
Grant raced through them as they opened. “Kyle, what happened? How are they?”
“Miraculously fine,” he answered. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Never mind,” Grant said. “Where are they?”
“Julia’s right here,” Kyle said as he motioned toward a room on their left.
Grant hurried inside, eyeing her as she rose in a set of scrubs. What happened to her clothes? His features pinched as he spotted a small bandage on her forehead.
He rushed to her and cupped her face in his hands. His eyes fell onto her bandage. “Julia, what happened? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“More or less,” Kyle answered.
Grant twisted to eye his son over his shoulder. “What does that mean?”
“It means she has bruised ribs from the seat belt catching her. She’s going to be in some pain, but it could have been far worse.”
Grant turned back to Julia, his eyes searching hers.
“I’m fine. We should go see Sierra.” Julia glanced over his shoulder at Kyle. “She’s awake, right?”
“Yeah, she’s awake. I just spoke with her.”
“How is she?” Julia asked.
“Upset over the damage she caused.”
“Damage she caused?” Grant asked. “Was Sierra driving? What happened?”
Julia grabbed his hand, still on her cheek, and squeezed. “Yes, but…I told the police I was driving.”
Grant’s eyebrows pinched together as he tried to build the puzzle with the limited pieces he had. “Why?”
“Because Sierra’s blood-alcohol level and the fact that she had Benzos in her system would have resulted in a DUI, which Julia thought wasn’t a good idea.”
“She was driving drunk?” Grant asked.
“Yes,” Julia said with a nod. “I…didn’t know what to do. I got in the car with her.”
Grant slid his eyes closed as he pulled Julia closer to him. “Thank God you weren’t hurt.”
“And that she was with Sierra,” Kyle said. “When they went into the river–”
“The river?” Grant’s eyes went wide as he leaned away from Julia. “What?”
“It wasn’t Sierra’s fault. She was just about to pull over and let me drive when I spotted a deer on the road. Sierra swerved to avoid it, and we went into the river. She hit her head. I had to pull her from the car unconscious.”
Grant pressed a hand against his head as he squeezed his eyes closed.
“We’re okay,” Julia said as she squeezed his arm. “But what about you? Worthington told me what was going on.”
“What?” Kyle asked.
“Can you give us a minute?” Julia asked.
“No,” he answered. “I’d like to know what was so pressing that my father couldn’t answer his phone calls when his wife and daughter were hospitalized.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. No charges.”
“Charges? You were arrested again?” Kyle asked with a scoff.
“No, not really. I was…at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“No surprise there,” Kyle answered.
Julia shot him a disappointed glance, and he raised his arms in defeat. “Grant, what happened?”
“I got a call telling me to go to a specific location in an hour. When I got there, I found Christopher Metcalfe dead.”
“What?” Kyle exclaimed. “Are you serious?”
Julia sucked in a breath at the words. “Metcalfe is dead?”
Grant nodded his head. “Yeah.”
“This is getting more and more dangerous by the second.” Julia pressed a hand against her head as she flicked her gaze to Kyle. “Please tell me you didn’t talk to Lydia yet.”
“No, I haven’t, but now we need the in more than ever.”
“No,” she argued. “Kyle, this is way too dangerous. They just killed one of their own.”
“We have no idea why that happened.”
“No, we don’t, but what do you think she’ll do if she finds out you’re not actually on her side?”
Kyle heaved a sigh. “She won’t find out.”
Julia shook her head at the words. “Was there anything at the scene? Anything that suggested why he was killed or who did it?”
Grant shook his head. “I pulled his phone from his pocket but never got the chance to look at it. The cops showed up before I could.”
“Darn it. That could have led us to the other DG members.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I–” Grant’s words cut off as heat washed over him. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “Wait, there was one other thing. I found this in his pocket with his phone.”
Julia glanced down at it before she flicked her gaze up to him. “What does it say?”
Grant unfolded it as Julia peered over his arm. His hands trembled as he unfolded the paper, his breath hitching in his throat. The scrawled words blurred for a moment as a wave of dread washed over him. He blinked rapidly, forcing himself to focus. Next time it will be someone closer to you .
His heart thudded against his ribs as he let the threat sink in. His grip tightened on the note, the ominous words chilling him to the bone. A sense of helplessness washed over him as he wondered if he would be next. The fear for Julia and Sierra made his vision blur as visions of their potential demise danced through his mind. How could they stop this?