Chapter 10 - THE ONE THING MONEY COULDN'T BUY
I knew exactly where Grace was.
And for the first time in months, I wished I didn't.
The photograph contained enough visual information for the FBI to identify the coastal town within an hour.
Grace was in Vermont.
Not Maine.
Arthur had deliberately sent us in the wrong direction before.
The FBI wanted surveillance.
I wanted a helicopter.
Then I remembered every mistake I'd ever made with Grace.
Control.
Impatience.
Believing urgency gave me the right to decide everything.
So I listened.
The agents moved first.
I stayed away.
It was torture.
At 2:14 a.m., Marcus called.
“She's safe.”
I couldn't speak.
“Arthur isn't there.”
“What?”
“He had someone taking photographs. Grace never knew she was being watched.”
I sat down.
“Can I talk to her?”
Marcus hesitated.
“She knows you're involved.”
“And?”
“She doesn't want to speak yet.”
“Okay.”
The old Richard would have flown there anyway.
I stayed in New York.
Three days later, Grace called.
No video.
Just her voice.
“Richard.”
My eyes closed.
“Hi.”
Silence.
Then:
“You didn't come.”
“You didn't want me to.”
“I thought you would anyway.”
“So did I.”
Her laugh was small and sad.
I had missed that sound more than I knew.
“How is the baby?”
“Healthy.”
“Boy or girl?”
Another pause.
“Girl.”
I covered my mouth.
A daughter.
Grace continued.
“I haven't chosen a name.”
“I won't ask.”
“You've changed.”
“I'm trying.”
“Trying isn't the same as changed.”
“I know.”
Silence again.
Then I told her about the Mercer documents.
Her father.
My father.
Arthur.
She listened quietly.
“I knew some of it,” she said.
“How much?”
“My mother suspected my father's shares were stolen.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I tried.”
I frowned.
“When?”
“Year seven of our marriage.”
I remembered.
Barely.
Grace had asked me to spend a weekend reviewing old family documents.
I told her to give them to Arthur.
My stomach dropped.
“You gave them to Arthur?”
“Because you told me he handled everything.”
And Arthur had buried them.
Another failure.
Not infidelity.
Neglect.
Sometimes the smallest abandonment grows into the largest consequence.
“Grace, I'm going to restore everything.”
“It isn't about money.”
“I know.”
“No, Richard. I don't think you do.”
Her voice trembled.
“My father's company won't give me back my father. Your shares won't give me back our baby.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
This time I meant it.
“I don't want you to come home because of the money. Or because you're pregnant. Or because I feel guilty.”
She didn't speak.
“I want you safe. If that means never seeing me again, I'll accept it.”
Grace breathed slowly.
Then said:
“There is one reason I might see you.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Our daughter deserves to know her father.”
I closed my eyes.
“Whenever you're ready.”
“She may be born soon.”
“What?”
“I'm having complications.”
Every instinct screamed at me to move.
But I forced myself to ask:
“Do you want me there?”
The longest silence of my life followed.
Then Grace whispered:
“Yes.”
I was in the air twelve minutes later.
But when my plane landed, Marcus was waiting.
His face told me something had happened.
“Grace was transferred.”
“Where?”
“Hospital.”
“Why?”
“Premature labor.”
My blood ran cold.
May you like
Then he said:
“And Arthur Bennett was seen entering the same hospital twenty minutes ago.”
