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Nelson fired twice before Franklin registered that Nelson was going to kill him. His chest burned as the bullets hit in rapid succession. He staggered, fell to his knees, his vision turning black.
He sensed Nelson standing over him. Franklin couldn’t see him, he could barely hear him.
“I already have the files, you fool.”
The third bullet went into Franklin Archer’s skull.
Nelson Lee stared at Archer’s corpse. Good riddance. This man was partly responsible for Nelson missing the farmer’s market today. He now had to wait a full week to enjoy the freshest, most flavorful produce on the East Coast. He was angry and, he could admit to himself, quite a bit sad.
However, there was one bright spot in this whole miserable week: Franklin Archer hadn’t been lying. Hedidhave files. Five flash drives containing every recording of every client in the law firm, including BioRise. A file listing what was on the drives. And papers documenting the specifics of what Brock Marsh had done for the law firm—and, surprisingly, for BioRise.
Sure, this all might not be admissible in court. But the recordings would still destroy the company, and James Seidel personally, if they ever got out.
Now they werehisinsurance policy.
He called his employer.
“Is it done?” Mr. Seidel asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you have the recordings?”
“No, sir,” he lied smoothly. “He denied having anything, said they were a bluff.”
“Do you believe him?”
“No. I’ll find them.”
“Good work. Now take care of the rest. We launch the new product next month. Generational wealth, Nelson. Once in a lifetime. Enough to set my children and any children they have for life. And I will not allow Grant Warwick to destroy my legacy.”
SUNDAY
Forty-Five
Regan slept only a couple of hours in the great room on the couch, restless because she was half listening to the quiet. Finally, at 3:00 in the morning, she got up and made coffee. There was little food in the cabin, but she found an unopened box of Cheerios that was only a month past the expiration date. She opened it and ate from the box.
She texted Charlie, told him to call her when he was up. A minute later, her phone rang.
“It’s early,” she said.
“Light sleeper,” he said.
“Join the club. How’s Jenna?”
“Holding. Carl is with her now. Anna will take over in a few hours. I have her under a forty-eight-hour watch. After that, we’ll need to do it official, but that’s not going to be a problem. She wants to go back to work, she misses her job, her grandmother—but she understands that right now things are dicey.”
“And Lance is holding up, too?”
“Yep. She told him he could leave, but he’s sticking. Good guy. Detective Quincy is looking for you. I’ve been avoiding him, but he’s tenacious.”
“I’m bringing Grant in. I told him to get a lawyer, and he’s just not thinking straight, so I reached out to a friend of mine in Arizona who is referring a top defense lawyer here. I want to wait until the lawyer arranges the surrender, but I’m getting antsy. I want to move him.”
“Can I tell Quincy? It might settle him down.”
“Tell him to expect a call from Grant’s lawyer sometime today to arrange the terms of his surrender. Good?”
“Perfect. Are you in a secure location?”
