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Bruce wasn’t returning his calls, and the Brock Marsh offices had been raided by the FBI. None of that was good.
He sat down at his desk and his house phone rang, startling him. He immediately thought of Isabelle. The girls. He answered.
“Archer.”
“It’s James,” the voice said.
James Seidel. The CEO of BioRise. Franklin’s most valuable client. Half his legal billing was from BioRise.
“You have a problem,” James said. “Several problems.”
“We need to sit down. Talk about this. Come up with a plan, a strategy. That’s what I’m best at.”
“Brock Marsh has been compromised,” James said. “That doesn’t make me happy.”
“That’s on them. They fucked up.”
James grunted his displeasure. Franklin swallowed heavily.
Why are you scared of him? You have proof they’re corrupt. Mutually assured destruction.
“First thing tomorrow, James,” Franklin pushed. “I fear you have made the situation a thousand times worse. You killed Madeline. That’s going to have repercussions.”
James laughed but without humor. Franklin sensed the underlying anger. A rough bark around the edges. Franklin probably shouldn’t have pushed him, but he couldn’t help it. Having Madeline killed? Framing Grant? It was beyond the pale. It brought undue attention to the law firm at a critical time. They had just conspired to kill a deputy US marshal! They needed to keep a low profile. Franklin understood that better than anyone. Why didn’t James?
“You would be wise, Franklin, not to test me.”
“You would be wise, James, to treat me as an equal, not an underling,” Franklin snapped.
He sounded a lot braver than he felt. Franklin did not want to go to prison. He had an escape plan. But if he was caught, he would turn state’s evidence so fast James Seidel wouldn’t know what hit him.
Mutually assured destruction.
“I want the files.Allthe files,” James repeated. “Including the recordings you made.”
How did he know about the recordings?How?No one knew...well...maybe his assistant. And Grant’s assistant. Dammit, could he trustno oneanymore?
“And give up my security?” Franklin said, feeling hot and cold at the same time. “It’s not going to happen.”
James ended the call. Franklin frowned, almost called him back, but his phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked down as a text came in from an unfamiliar number.
He clicked it.
A photo loaded onto his phone. His blood froze and he began to shake.
Isabelle. The girls. In the lobby of their hotel in New York City.
His house phone rang again, and he answered.
“Bastard,” he managed to say.
“We are terminating our business relationship with Archer Warwick effective immediately,” James said. “You will prepare all the files and keep nothing. And I meannothing. You had better take care of your associate, because if he says a word about our business, it’syourfamily who will pay the price—since he has no one left he cares about. You have twenty-four hours to comply.”
James hung up on him.
Franklin couldn’t stop shaking.
This was Grant’s fault.
