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“I never wanted anyone dead,” Franklin snapped, but the way he said it...his tone said it all. Franklin was scared. He knew who was responsible and he was choosing to remain silent.
“So things just got out of control, is that it?” Grant said with disgust. “Everything spiraled out of control, and you’re now sorry. Just so very sorry that a ten-year-old boy was killed. Collateral damage? Is that what it is?” Then Grant had a revelation. Things shifted, became clearer.
He’d always known they’d taken some unscrupulous clients, but that was part of the business. Some of the businesses were...shady. Grant didn’t always like the work, but some clients paid exceptionally well for discretion and legal sleight of hand, and he had never crossed the line, not in any serious way. He’d turned his back a few times...but he couldn’t be accused of anything because he literally didn’t know details because he didn’t want to know.
Franklin crossed that line. Grant could see it now.
“You’re being blackmailed, aren’t you?”
Franklin stared at him, his mouth a firm line.
“Tell me the fucking truth!Is my son dead because of you?”
“You don’t knowanything!” For the first time, Franklin showed his temper. Then he startled, surprised at his own rage. He sat down at his large desk, clasped his hands in front of him.
“I will prove it,” Grant said, his voice shaking. “I will prove that you were involved in the murder of my son. Maddie. I don’t know what you did, what they’re holding over your head—”or who“—but I will find out. Tom Granger learned the truth, didn’t he—and you had him killed, too. If Tom could find it, I will.”
Regan will.
Franklin shook his head. “There is no evidence. And your word will mean nothing.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Franklin laughed humorlessly.
“I have never crossed the line.”
“Oh, please. Saint Grant Warwick. You may not have got your hands dirty, but there are piles ofshitthat you helped create through your brilliant NDAs and protections for our clients. The shit they pulled under our legal umbrella? The shit we had to clean up with Brock Marsh? You think none of that will come back on you?”
“I never—”
“It doesn’t matter what you did, your name is on everything. Grow the fuck up, Grant. When I’m through with you, no one you peddle your ridiculous conspiracy theories to will believe a single thing you say. I will accept your resignation.”
“The proof is out there. The proof that Adam Hannigan was hired to kill me. Granger knew. I just want to know why.”
“The evidence Granger had?” Franklin said it so quietly that Grant almost didn’t hear him. “It’s gone, Grant. Completely gone.” He slowly rose from his desk. “I didn’t want Madeline to die. I didn’t ask for it. If she’s dead...if... This is now all out of my hands.”
He sounded resigned.
“I didn’t hire anyone to kill you or Madeline,” Franklin continued. “But... I knew it was inevitable when you started talking to Granger. You betrayed me, our firm, everything we worked for.”
For the first time Grant realized how stupid he was. He should have a recorder on him, something to take to the police! Franklin knew who wanted Grant dead, who was responsible for Chase’s murder. Who killed Madeline.
You are a fool, Grant.
“I’ll tell you one thing, Grant, as a nod to our long friendship.” Franklin forced a grim smile on his face. “I’m safe. It’s a strategy of mutually assured destruction, and all my clients know it. I have dirt on everyone.”
Grant believed him. Franklin may have been lying to him about his involvement—he may have more blood on his hands than he admitted—but right now, Grant believed him. Franklin Archer was a rotten criminal—dirty down to his soul. Worse, he enjoyed the game. The knowledge that hehadinformation that could hurt powerful people.
But which of their powerful, corrupt clients was responsible for murder?
“What have you done?” Grant’s voice cracked.
“I didn’t start it. My father the bastard—yeah, get that look off your face, my father wasn’t the man either of us believed him to be. My father started the firm, he built his empire with these corrupt corporate clients. Helped them, protected them, profited from them. And he walks away with a woman half his age only a year after my mom died...walked away with all the money and prestige and leftmewith this mess. But I made lemonade from his lemons, enriched all of us, built a legacy! But you—you never wanted to get your hands dirty. And because of that, because of your ridiculousethics, you’renotsafe. You’re a liability to some of our clients.”
“Just tell me who is behind it. Who killed Chase?”
Franklin’s arrogant smile disappeared. “Run, Grant. Or you won’t live to see tomorrow.”
