Chapter 3 - THE DEATH HE NEVER EXPLAINED
I did not sleep that night.
Neither did Grant.
He sat in the living room while I stayed upstairs.
At 4:12 a.m., I came down and found him holding an old prescription bottle.
“Start talking.”
He looked exhausted.
“My father had terminal heart failure.”
“I know.”
“He was in pain.”
“I know.”
“He asked me to increase his morphine.”
I stopped.
“Did the doctor approve it?”
“No.”
There it was.
Grant had increased the dose himself.
Not enough to obviously kill.
Enough to matter.
William died six hours later.
“You never told me.”
“I never told anyone.”
“Except Savannah?”
“No.”
“Then how did she know?”
Grant looked at me.
“Because her mother was Dad’s private nurse.”
My stomach tightened.
Savannah’s family had been around the Cross family before I ever met her.
Her mother, Diane Cole, had worked private duty in William’s final months.
“She saw the medication log?”
“Yes.”
“Why wait four years?”
“Savannah found her mother’s old records after Diane died last year.”
“And then?”
“She approached me.”
Not seduced him.
Approached him.
“How did an affair happen from that?”
His face changed.
“We had history.”
Of course.
“Before me?”
“Yes.”
“How much history?”
“College.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Another thing I somehow missed in fourteen years.”
“She meant nothing after I met you.”
“Apparently she meant enough last year.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“She threatened to go to police.”
“So you slept with her?”
“No.”
“Grant.”
“Not at first.”
I stared.
“She wanted money.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
“Did you pay?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
He hesitated.
That answer terrified me more.
“Grant.”
“Company discretionary account.”
My anger sharpened.
“You embezzled?”
“I planned to replace it.”
“Stop saying that.”
He looked away.
Then he admitted the rest.
Savannah came back.
Again.
More money.
Then attention.
Then the affair.
“She said if I left, she’d tell everyone I killed Dad.”
“And you believed sleeping with her would solve that?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
His voice became low.
“Because by then I hated myself enough to act like the man she said I was.”
That was not an excuse.
At least he did not pretend it was.
I stood.
“Rebecca will need all of this.”
His head snapped up.
“You’re telling your attorney?”
“Yes.”
“Claire, if this goes public—”
“Your reputation?”
“The company.”
“Again.”
“What?”
“Every time truth threatens you, you put the company in front of it.”
He stood too.
“That company employs eighteen thousand people.”
“And apparently employs your conscience too.”
He flinched.
My phone rang.
Rebecca.
I answered.
“Morning.”
Her tone was serious.
“I found something in William Cross’s estate file.”
“What?”
“The trust was amended six weeks before his death.”
Grant froze.
I put her on speaker.
Rebecca continued:
“The adultery clause wasn’t the only addition.”
I looked at Grant.
“What else?”
“If Grant is ever credibly investigated for causing William’s death, all controlling shares transfer immediately to an independent trustee.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who?”
Rebecca hesitated.
Then said:
“You.”
Grant sat down.
May you like
His father had not merely suspected betrayal.
He had prepared for it.
