Reporters outside the Greenwich estate.
Evelyn remained hidden.
She did not post.
Did not issue emotional statements.
Did not give an interview.
By 8:30 a.m., Malcolm surrendered.
At 9:12, police arrested him on preliminary charges related to unlawful restraint and conspiracy pending further investigation.
At 9:40, Grant’s attorney announced Grant would surrender “at an appropriate time.”
At 10:00, Mercer Ridge’s board placed him on temporary administrative leave.
At 10:04, Grant stopped answering his attorneys.
At 10:21, his driver said Grant had taken another vehicle.
At 10:33, police issued a request to locate him.
Not a national manhunt.
Not yet.
But the image of Grant Mercer had changed.
Yesterday, CEO.
Today, missing executive wanted for questioning.
Evelyn sat with Dana and Detective Monroe.
“Where does he go?” Monroe asked.
Evelyn thought.
Grant owned apartments.
Vacation houses.
A Hamptons property.
Access to private aircraft.
Corporate vehicles.
Friends with homes from Nantucket to Palm Beach.
But Grant did not think of safe places the way normal people did.
He thought of leverage.
“He goes to whoever can still hurt us.”
“Who?”
Evelyn’s phone rang.
Paige Lawson.
She answered.
“Paige?”
Breathing.
Fast.
“Mrs. Mercer…”
“What happened?”
“He was here.”
Everyone stood.
“Grant?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Are you safe?”
“I’m at a police station now.”
“What did he want?”
“My phone.”
Evelyn looked at Monroe.
“Did he get it?”
“No. I ran out the back.”
“Did he say anything?”
Paige hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“He asked about Peter.”
Exactly as Evelyn expected.
“Anything else?”
“He kept asking whether Peter gave you the email.”
The room went silent.
Grant knew about Thomas’s email.
That mattered.
A lot.
“Paige,” Evelyn said, “did you ever tell Grant Peter kept that message?”
“No.”
“Did Peter?”
“I don’t know.”
Monroe was already texting another investigator.
Evelyn’s pulse increased.
The email was now urgent.
At 11:08, federal agents met Peter Voss’s attorney in Vermont.
At 11:44, they obtained the device containing Thomas Halstead’s unopened message.
At 12:31, a forensic specialist accessed the attachment.
At 12:46, Detective Monroe received a call.
Her expression changed.
Evelyn stood.
“What?”
Monroe ended the call.
“The attachment wasn’t financial records.”
“What was it?”
“A video.”
Margaret gripped the back of a chair.
“Of Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Recorded approximately seven hours before his death.”
Evelyn felt the room tilt.
“What did he say?”
Monroe looked at her.
“I haven’t seen the full recording.”
“What did they tell you?”
The detective hesitated.
“Your father believed someone inside his house was trying to kill him.”
Margaret gasped.
Evelyn said nothing.
Monroe continued.
“He recorded the message in case something happened.”
“Did he name Grant?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“When do we get it?”
“The federal team is transferring a verified copy.”
“How long?”
“As soon as procedure allows.”
Evelyn paced once across the room.
Stopped.
“Where is Grant?”
“No confirmed location.”
“His passport?”
“Flagged.”
“Airports?”
“Notified.”
“Private terminals?”
“We’re working on it.”
Evelyn’s mind moved through Grant’s resources.
Cars.
Pilots.
Properties.
Cash.
But then something else occurred to her.
“What if he isn’t leaving?”
Monroe looked up.
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Because the email exists.”
“So?”
“Grant doesn’t run from evidence.”
Evelyn turned toward the detective.
“He destroys it.”
Peter had the original device.
Federal custody.
Grant could not reach it.
But maybe Thomas had kept another copy.
Where?
Home office?
Halstead server?
Safe?
Her mother whispered, “The lake house.”
Evelyn turned.
“What?”
Margaret’s face had gone pale.
“The night before Thomas died, he asked me where the old document safe was.”
“What safe?”
“At our house in Lake George.”
Evelyn stared.
Thomas and Margaret owned a secluded property in upstate New York.
A family retreat.
Thomas kept old Halstead records there because he liked working near the water.
“When did Grant last go there?” Evelyn asked.
Margaret shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Dana opened her laptop.
“Property alarm?”
Margaret’s expression fell.
“We stopped paying for monitoring after Thomas died. No one uses the place.”
Evelyn called the caretaker.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Monroe said, “Don’t go there.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“But Grant might already be there.”
State police were contacted.
A unit was dispatched.
For forty-three minutes no one heard anything.
Then Detective Monroe’s phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Her expression changed.
“What?”
Monroe held up one finger.
Listened again.
Then ended the call.
“The caretaker is missing.”
Margaret whispered, “Oh my God.”
“His truck is at the property.”
“Grant?”
“No sign.”
“Inside?”
“Back door open. House empty.”
Evelyn’s throat tightened.
“The safe?”
“They don’t know what they’re looking for.”
“Tell them the basement office. North wall. Behind the wooden cabinet.”
Margaret stared.
“How do you know that?”
“Dad showed me when I was eighteen.”
Monroe relayed it.
Minutes later came the answer.
Safe open.
Contents disturbed.
No Grant.
Popular Posts
→- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
Recently Viewed
Stories you read recently will appear here.
