by Alina Jacobs
“Our guest of honor has finally arrived,” Luigi said.
Grant felt his eye twitch.
“No threatening statement from the newest Holbrook?” Luigi sneered.
Grant ignored the dig. “Let’s get this over with. I have other things I need to do today.”
Luigi smirked at him and held up a blindfold and handcuffs. Grant didn’t want to put them on, and he hoped he would make it out alive. Luigi patted him down and removed most of his weapons but didn’t check his mouth. He also didn’t find the pistol Grant had pressed between his vest and his undershirt. He tried to suck in his stomach as much as possible so his mother’s lackey wouldn’t notice the weapon. Luigi threw the weapons into the water then marched Grant in front of him. Grant hit his head on the low ceiling as he entered into the tunnel, and he heard Luigi chuckle.
They walked for at least a mile, and Grant could hear Luigi huffing and puffing. When they finally arrived at their destination, Grant could smell exhaust and wet dog. The blindfold was ripped off.
“You aren’t so smart after all, are you?” Danielle said when she saw him.
“What happened to a simple trade?” asked Grant. “This is excessive.”
“Run!” Kate sobbed. “They’re going to kill you to hurt your father.”
Grant ignored her. “The Bitcoin are on that hard drive,” he told Danielle. He tried to remain calm and buy himself some time, for what exactly, he wasn’t sure. The odds were three against one—not good. Plus, he was still handcuffed.
“What’s the password?” she asked.
“You’ll receive it when you let me and Kate go,” he said to her.
“No.”
“Too bad. I don’t remember it,” Grant told her. “I have it written down in my office.”
Danielle looked at him. Grant wondered if she knew he was lying. Luigi grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forced him to his knees.
She held up her phone and started a video call. Grant heard his father’s voice.
“Danielle, what are you doing? Where are you? Release my assistant at once!”
Danielle turned around the phone, and Grant saw the shock and horror on his father’s face. His mother laughed as Luigi pressed a gun to Grant’s head.
“No!” his father yelled. “Luigi, you’re a dead man!”
“I want money,” Danielle said. “And lots of it. Also, there’s a password on Grant’s desk. I need it for these Bitcoin.”
“I’ll give you money. Please don’t hurt him!”
His father looked as if he was crying. Danielle looked pleased—this was the reaction she had been hoping for.
“Don’t bother tracking this call. We’re on the move,” she said and hung up as Alan started the truck.
Grant had no intention of waiting around for her to receive her money or for him to be put in that van. Luigi’s attention was off Grant for a split second. He jerked forward, sweeping out a leg, and brought Luigi to the floor. He wrenched his arms over his head and felt his shoulders pop and dislocate. He spit out the razors and sliced Luigi’s throat. His hands were at an awkward angle, and he didn’t make the cut he wanted.
The gun went off, and he heard Kate scream. Grant slammed his boot down on Luigi’s arm and felt it snap under his foot.
“Kate!” he yelled.
“I’m fine,” Kate sobbed, “it was my arm.”
More shots rang out from Danielle, who fired a small silver pistol. Grant hit the floor, praying Danielle wouldn’t shoot Kate again.
Her attention was briefly diverted as Gus ran at Danielle, teeth snapping, and latched himself on her ankle. Grant somehow managed to wrest the pistol out from under his vest, then he took aim at Danielle and Luigi. He thought he hit one of them, but he wasn’t sure. Danielle grabbed the dog and the hard drive. Luigi, clutching his bleeding neck, jumped into the truck while Alan revved the engine. Grant aimed at where he thought the driver would be and shot. It was hard with his hands cuffed. He heard a man scream, and the van lurched forward, speeding down the service drive.
“No!” Grant shouted. “Gus!”
He shot after the car, but there was no way he could catch it. Gus was gone, just like Brendan, and Kate was wounded. Why did this always happen to him? He watched in shock as the truck sped away.
Suddenly, he heard the squeal of brakes. There was a series of gunshots. It sounded as if it was coming from a high-powered rifle, and Grant flung himself on top of Kate.
He heard a car door open then slam shut and the crunch of gravel under boots. A masked man came around the side of the van. Grant tried to steady his pistol up and aim. He had one more shot left.
The man pulled off his mask.
“Uncle Jack,” Grant said in relief.
“You are in so much trouble,” Jack told him.
“Honestly, I’ve never done anything more satisfying than shooting that woman in the face,” Jack said to him later in the hospital.
From her hospital bed, Kate had somehow gotten her hands on her phone and was busy fielding calls from the media, Walter, and the lawyers. Several men in suits came by to tell Grant and Jack not to say anything.
As the lawyers arranged themselves around Grant’s bedside, the detective assigned to the case came in.
“We’re waiting on the medical examiner’s report, but somehow, three people were shot and killed fleeing a crime scene,” the detective said around the toothpick he was chewing.
“This is America,” Jack said. “A man can’t save his own nephew?”
The detective tapped his notebook against his thigh as Jack pressed on.
“They started it. They kidnapped my nephew and a nice young woman from a good family. Who’s really at fault here?”
“God help me,” muttered one of the lawyers. “Stop talking,” he snapped at Jack.
The detective grinned, showing a chipped tooth. “You’re in the clear, Mr. Holbrook and Mr. Holbrook,” he said, nodding at Grant. “Open-and-shut case of they-had-it-coming. I don’t think anyone in the DA’s office or the police force is going to look any further.”
Jack smiled broadly.
“Look,” the detective said, “man to man? I was there that night the house burned. I still have nightmares about it. You were doing the Lord’s work.” He shook Jack’s hand and clapped Grant lightly on his shoulder.
Bending down and looking into his eyes, the detective said, “You need to rethink your life, son. It’s not good to keep looking for trouble like that. You’re not in your early twenties. Find a nice girl and settle down.”
“Yes, sir,” Grant replied. He thought about Kate. How could he have let someone hurt her? He should have looked for her sooner. Now that the sharp pain in his arm was subsiding, the guilt and self-loathing bubbled up.
“I’ll try to stop by the funeral. I’m sure I’ll see you there,” the detective said as he left.
“Funeral?” Grant asked, confused.
“It’s the right thing to do,” Jack said. “Danielle is still technically married to Walter. We can’t just dump her in the river.”
Chapter 63
Kate
A few days after leaving the hospital, Kate was still recovering from being shot. It had hurt a lot more than it seemed in movies. Her ears were still ringing, and her whole body felt stiff and achy. Even though Walter had told her to take it easy, she felt as though she needed to do something.
Grant wouldn’t respond to her texts. She focused on trying to convince the police to release Grant’s watch. Maybe that would cheer him up. The day the police finally let her come down to the station and claim it, she hurried over there. After a long wait, she had the watch in hand and took it over to the Holbrook estate.
“How is he?” she asked Walter.
“He’s asleep, but how are you? How’s that arm?”
“It will heal,” she replied.
“I’ll make sure Grant receives the watch,” he told her.
“I was hoping to give it to him
myself.”
“Grant has been sleeping during the day and wandering around the house at night,” he replied. “I doubt he will wake up anytime soon.”
“I see. I suppose I’ll see you all at the wake tonight,” she said and went back to her grandmother’s house. As she was leaving, she looked up at Grant’s window but saw no sign of him.
Her grandmother was already dressed in a black skirt and cardigan and ready to leave when Kate arrived back at the house.
“We still have a few more hours,” Kate told her on the way to change into her own black outfit.
“I’ve been waiting for this day for years,” her grandmother said. “I want to make sure she’s dead and buried. Walter’s having an open casket so we can all be sure.”
During the car ride to the historic church, Kate almost expected to receive more messages from Alan but then realized he was dead. She felt sorry for his daughter but was still thankful he wouldn’t stalk her anymore.
The viewing was packed, not only with the upper-crust members of New Cardiff, but local politicians, police officers, firefighters, and members of the media who were all in some way involved in the fire that killed Walter and Danielle’s three young children.
Grant and Walter each had a long receiving line, and Kate decided to hang back with her grandmother, out of the way.
“Nancy really went all out,” her grandmother said. “I would have dumped the woman in an unmarked grave and called it a day.”
They all regrouped at Nancy’s house after the viewing. Grant looked sort of gray, and Kate was worried about him, but he made efforts to avoid her, and she didn’t want to push him.
As Grant slumped against a wall, Nancy hurried over to him, saying, “You’ve had a shock,” manhandled him into a seat, and handed him something to drink.
Jack came and stood next to Kate, and they silently watched Nancy coax Grant to drink.
“Are your sons coming for the funeral?” Kate finally asked him.
“I told them not to waste their leave,” he replied. “They were just up here for Eric and Ginny’s wedding. Carter wanted ‘pictures of the hag,’ as he put it.”
Kate didn’t smile. “I know she was an evil person, but it’s still a death.”
“Yes. I’m sure it’s hard on Grant,” Jack said, staring down at his drink. “He never really had a mother. His adoptive mother was some flavor of abusive, and Danielle was even worse.”
They watched Nancy fuss over him.
“Well, she’s going to give it her best shot,” Kate said.
Jack smiled. “My wife is a force of nature.”
“Thank you,” Kate said, turning to look him in the eye.
“For what?”
“Saving us. And Gus.”
The corgi was underfoot, begging for snacks.
“Walter called me. It was a hunch that they would be at that spot. We used to play there as kids, and I figured that was where she might be. I might have gotten a little carried away, but no regrets, as Carter would say.”
“Yeah, my ears are still ringing.”
“Sorry about that.” He grimaced.
“It wasn’t you. It was more from…” She gestured to her arm and noticed Grant watching her sadly from across the room.
The funeral service the next morning was short. The priest said a prayer, then Nancy got up and said a few words that were a lot kinder than anything Kate ever would have said about Danielle. Then they all followed the hearse to the cemetery. Danielle was buried next to her parents and the children she killed.
Back at Nancy’s house for the repast, Grant looked ill.
“He hasn’t been sleeping,” Nancy told her quietly. “Maybe you can talk to him.”
Kate didn’t have a chance. Nancy’s house was packed after the burial service, and people would give their condolences to Grant then approach her for the full story.
She stayed at Nancy’s house until the last of the well-wishers gave their condolences. While tidying up, Kate looked for Grant and found him huddled on the couch in one of the sitting rooms.
“Grant,” Kate said as he sat up.
“What do you want?”
She stroked his face then kissed him. “I’ve been thinking about everything,” she said, cupping his jaw and looking into his eyes. “I don’t ever want to lose you. I’ll quit my job. Anything. I want to be with you.” She kissed him again, but he didn’t respond, just turned his head away.
“I can’t,” he said, wrapping his arms around himself. “This is a mistake. You were right—we can never be together.”
Chapter 64
Grant
Grant pulled on his uniform and was packing his duffel bag. He took his lucky watch from the box and flipped it over. There were still specks of blood on it. So much for that meticulous eight-month clean. It was a metaphor for his life. No matter how much he tried, he was who he was, and that person did not have any business in Kate’s world. Just like the watch, he brought nothing but strife and violence to the people near him.
There was a knock on the door, and his father stepped into the room.
“Where are you going?” Walter asked.
“I can’t be here,” Grant said. “I have to leave.”
“I don’t understand,” his father said, sitting down on the bed next to the half-packed bag. “You’re doing so well at the company. You won us contracts in Norway and Ethiopia, and the clients are expecting you to manage those projects.”
Grant looked at his father sorrowfully. He needed to come clean. “It was Danielle,” he admitted. “She helped me win the Ethiopian contract. This whole disaster is my fault. I can’t be trusted. I thought I could control her. I just… and now Kate got hurt.”
His father sagged. “I should have warned you she was after you. I should have…” He let his face drop in his hands. “Danielle was an incredibly manipulative person. She had a cunning way of finding your deepest desires and sharpening your need into a weapon that can be used against you.”
Walter reached out and grabbed Grant by the wrist and held on tightly. “It’s not your fault. I should have protected you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Grant said, trying to pull away. “I can’t protect the people I care about. I’m going to reenlist. I don’t belong here.”
“But Danielle is dead now, thankfully. This is the beginning of a new chapter in the Holbrook family!”
“It’s too late,” Grant spat. “Brendan, Kate, Gus—people I care about are hurt and killed because of me. I’m exactly like her.”
“You’re nothing like her. Please, Grant, stay. We can work it out,” Walter pleaded, then he pulled out the set of pamphlets about veterans’ mental health that the fire department had given them. “There’s no shame in talking to someone. I’ve started going. You don’t have to deal with this all on your own.”
Grant didn’t take the papers, so his father set them down on the desk.
“At least promise me you’ll sleep on it. You can always leave tomorrow.”
Grant nodded, and Walter moved his duffel bag to the closet. Grant gave Walter a hug before he left him, but he knew he had no intention of keeping his promise.
He waited in his room until it was dark, threw his bag over the side of the balcony, and then climbed down, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. He left and walked down the road toward the New Cardiff train station. He was going to take the last southbound train. Maybe he would wait a bit before reenlisting and find a job as a security guard or go work on an oil rig off the coast of Louisiana.
He bought his ticket from the kiosk then waited for the train to show up. It started to drizzle, and he pulled up his collar, shuddering as the freezing rain dripped down his shirt.
As he waited, a car pulled up by the platform. He turned around, squinting in the glare of the headlights, and heard the sound of a window opening.
“Come back home!” Kate shouted.
Walter looked on, concerned, from the driver’s seat.
“Get in the car!” Jack shouted from the back seat. The rain was pouring down now, and Grant blinked away the water.
Kate stepped out of the car and was immediately soaked, but she gamely climbed up on the platform with him.
“If you leave, I’m coming with you,” she said. She only had on a light jacket, and her hair was drenched.
“No,” he said. “You love your job, and your family is here.”
“I meant what I said,” she told him, reaching up to rest a hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. Just don’t leave, not like this. You can’t leave Gus. You can’t leave me.” She gave him a pleading smile. “You said you loved me. I didn’t say it back, but I love you. We don’t have to move in together or anything crazy, but at least give us a shot.”
Grant looked away from her and twisted his watch on his wrist.
“You have your lucky watch back,” she said with a grin, her teeth chattering. “That has to be a good sign, right? You can always take the train tomorrow or the next day, if it doesn’t work out.”
The bandage on her arm was getting soaked through her jacket. He could see the outline in the light of the street lamps. A horn blared, and the train pulled up. He picked up his bag and concentrated on the large machine that was going to take him away from his problems.
The conductor stepped out and asked them, “You two riding with me or what?”
Grant shook his head. “I am. She’s not. She doesn’t have a ticket.”
Kate grabbed him, saying, “Grant, don’t leave. You don’t have to do this.”
“You’re going to leave her?” the conductor asked. “You need to rethink your choices.”
Grant thought about Kate, about the life he wanted them to have. Then he thought about the reality of what had happened by the canal. His father honked the horn, and Gus barked out of the window.
“Hurry up,” Jack called. “Stop being so dramatic and get in the car.”
“Sounds like no one wants you on this train,” the conductor said, stepping back in.
“I’m coming.”
“No, you aren’t,” the conductor replied, blowing his whistle. “We’re on a schedule. We don’t have time for this.”