Chapter 2 - THE SECRET MY GRANDMOTHER NEVER TOLD ME
My grandmother had worked for Vincent’s father.
That sentence followed me into the Hayes residence like a shadow.
The mansion wasn’t what I expected.
No gold statues.
No armed men standing dramatically beneath chandeliers.
Just quiet halls, dark wood, expensive paintings, and security cameras in places most people wouldn’t notice.
Vincent led me into a library.
Luke remained outside.
I stayed near the door.
“Start talking.”
Vincent poured himself water.
Not whiskey.
I noticed that for some reason.
“Your grandmother’s full name is Eleanor Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“She worked as my father’s executive secretary from 1997 to 2003.”
I stared.
“Grandma told me she worked for an insurance company.”
“She lied.”
“Why?”
“Probably to keep you alive.”
My stomach twisted.
Vincent opened a drawer and removed an old employee file.
Eleanor Bennett.
The photograph was unmistakably Grandma.
Younger.
Sharper.
But still her.
“What happened in 2003?”
“My father discovered someone inside his organization was selling company information to federal investigators.”
I frowned.
“Your father was a criminal.”
Vincent’s expression didn’t change.
“Yes.”
The honesty startled me.
“He controlled shipping, construction, unions, and businesses that were not always legal.”
“And Grandma?”
“She kept records.”
I almost laughed.
“My grandmother alphabetizes coupons.”
“She also memorized financial transactions better than most accountants.”
That sounded disturbingly plausible.
Vincent continued.
“One night, a ledger disappeared.”
“What ledger?”
“A handwritten record of payments made to judges, contractors, politicians, police officers, and several members of my father’s organization.”
My mouth went dry.
“And everyone thought Grandma stole it?”
“Yes.”
“Did she?”
“I don’t know.”
“But she left?”
“The next morning.”
I shook my head.
“She raised me. She never had money.”
“That’s why I never believed she sold the ledger.”
I looked at him.
“Then why keep looking for her?”
“I wasn’t.”
He paused.
“My father was.”
A chill moved through me.
“Until when?”
Vincent looked directly at me.
“Until the night he died.”
Silence filled the library.
Then my phone rang.
Grandma.
I answered immediately.
“Claire?”
Her voice sounded frightened.
“Grandma, are you okay?”
“Where are you?”
“With someone.”
A pause.
Then:
“Is it Vincent Hayes?”
I froze.
Vincent heard.
His eyes narrowed.
“How did you know?”
Grandma started breathing quickly.
“Claire, listen to me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You need to leave him.”
I looked at Vincent.
“Why?”
“Because if Vincent knows who you are, they know too.”
“Who?”
Her voice dropped.
“The men who killed his father.”
Vincent stopped breathing.
I turned on speaker.
“Grandma, Vincent’s father died of a heart attack.”
“No.”
Her answer was immediate.
“He was murdered.”
Vincent moved closer.
“Eleanor.”
Grandma went silent.
Then whispered:
“You sound just like him.”
Vincent’s face changed.
“Tell me what happened to my father.”
Grandma began crying.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because the man who killed him is still alive.”
Then a loud crash exploded through the phone.
I stood.
“Grandma?”
No answer.
May you like
“GRANDMA?”
The line went dead.
