Paige’s voice became quieter.
“He said, ‘There is no out until I own Halstead.’”
The room seemed to narrow.
Evelyn thought of her father.
Thomas Halstead died fourteen months earlier.
Heart attack.
Sixty-three.
Healthy enough to swim every morning.
His death had shocked everyone.
Grant had been perfect afterward.
Arranged everything.
Sat beside Evelyn during the funeral.
Held her while she signed probate forms.
Encouraged her to “step away” from the company while grieving.
No.
Evelyn refused to let her mind outrun evidence.
A suspicious sentence was not proof of murder.
“What exactly does ‘Thomas is dead’ mean?” Dana asked.
“I don’t know,” Paige said quickly. “I don’t know. I only know what I heard.”
“Did you ever hear them mention him again?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The last night.”
“What last night?”
“The night I ended things with Grant.”
Paige hesitated.
“He had been drinking. He said Evelyn would eventually give him what he wanted because everybody does after they understand what he’s capable of.”
Evelyn’s grip tightened around the phone.
“What else?”
Paige whispered, “He said your father had understood too late.”
Silence.
Margaret sat down slowly.
Her face had gone white.
Evelyn reached for her hand.
“Paige,” Evelyn said.
“Yes?”
“Where are you?”
“New Jersey.”
“Are you safe?”
“I think so.”
“Do not meet us.”
Dana looked at Evelyn approvingly.
“Do not contact Grant. Do not delete anything. Do you have messages from him?”
“A lot.”
“Keep your phone exactly as it is.”
“What should I do?”
“Dana is going to give you the name of a criminal attorney. Then we’ll connect you with Detective Monroe if your lawyer agrees.”
Paige started crying harder.
“I’m so sorry.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
The affair hurt.
She would deal with that later.
Right now Paige was evidence and a frightened human being.
“Tell the truth,” Evelyn said. “That’s the useful part of sorry.”
They ended the call.
Margaret stood by the window.
“Your father.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“We do not know anything yet.”
“He said Thomas was dead.”
“Mom.”
“Peter Voss said he did what Grant needed.”
“That could mean financial manipulation.”
“Do you believe that?”
Evelyn did not answer.
Because belief was dangerous when facts were incomplete.
At 1:18, Detective Monroe arrived at Dana’s office.
They gave her Paige’s information.
The detective’s expression became serious.
“I’ll contact her lawyer once she has one.”
Evelyn said, “I don’t want anyone telling Paige to meet Grant or confront him.”
“They won’t.”
“Grant may know she called.”
“How?”
“I don’t know who is leaking information.”
Monroe nodded.
“Fair.”
At 1:42, another development arrived.
The forensic lab recovered a partial cached video from the Mercer estate’s smart-home hub.
Not the pool-house footage.
The nursery device.
Audio only.
Forty-seven seconds.
Grant’s voice.
Clear.
“If you don’t sign it, I swear I will make you disappear before I lose this company.”
Then Evelyn:
“Move away from me.”
A crash.
Grant:
“You think anyone will believe you?”
Then the system automatically contacted emergency services.
Dana closed her eyes.
“That’s enough to change the criminal case.”
Monroe nodded.
“Yes.”
“Arrest?”
“I don’t promise arrests.”
“Understood.”
“But it matters.”
At 2:16, Grant’s attorneys requested a private settlement meeting.
Evelyn declined.
At 2:28, Mercer Ridge issued a statement describing the matter as a “private marital dispute being weaponized in a commercial transaction.”
At 2:41, Evelyn’s attorney issued exactly one sentence:
“Mrs. Mercer will address all relevant facts through lawful channels.”
No accusations.
No drama.
No social-media war.
Grant loved public arguments because he could perform them.
Evelyn would make him fight documents.
By 3:00, investors were asking why Mercer Ridge’s financing depended on Northstead Private Credit.
At 3:19, one of Grant’s independent directors resigned.
At 3:27, another requested an emergency audit.
At 3:45, Dana received confirmation that a judge had temporarily blocked any enforcement of the lien against Evelyn’s brownstone.
At 4:03, Detective Monroe called.
Grant Mercer had been asked to surrender for questioning.
He did not.
His attorney said he was unavailable.
At 4:15, the police went to Mercer Ridge headquarters.
Grant was gone.
Evelyn listened without reacting.
“Do you consider him dangerous?” Monroe asked.
“Yes.”
“To you specifically?”
“Yes.”
“To others?”
Evelyn thought of Paige.
Malcolm.
Peter Voss.
Her mother.
“I don’t know.”
“Where would he go?”
“Grant doesn’t run.”
“What does he do?”
“He finds leverage.”
That answer stayed with her.
At 5:10 p.m., Evelyn finally agreed to leave Dana’s office.
Not for home.
For her mother’s condominium on Central Park West.
Private security waited downstairs.
Dana had arranged it.
Evelyn protested until Dana said, “Being brave and being available to your attacker are not the same thing.”
Evelyn stopped arguing.
Traffic crawled north.
She watched pedestrians hurry beneath umbrellas.
Normal lives.
Dog walkers.
Delivery bicycles.
Parents pulling children behind them.
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