Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO ALREADY KNEW
Grant Mercer was the kind of man magazines described as charming because they had never been alone with him.
At forty-six, he had polished manners, tailored suits, and the cold eyes of someone who viewed every relationship as a transaction.
He moved closer.
“I asked you a question, Nora.”
I slid the old phone beneath my jacket.
“The air filter panel came loose.”
His gaze dropped to the open compartment.
“What was inside?”
“A broken mounting clip.”
Grant held out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
“I threw it in the trunk.”
He studied my face.
For three years, I had learned how to survive around people like him. Never react too quickly. Never look toward the thing you are hiding. Never fill silence just because powerful people expect you to become nervous.
Grant stepped so close I could smell his expensive cologne.
“You have always been remarkably composed for a driver.”
“And you have always been remarkably interested in your aunt’s air vents.”
His jaw tightened.
Before he could respond, camera flashes erupted near the hotel entrance.
Vivian was returning.
She walked toward us with two friends and her younger son, Sebastian Sterling.
Sebastian was thirty-eight, tall and reserved, with none of Grant’s artificial warmth. He had returned to New York six months earlier after managing Sterling Aeronautics’ European operations.
Unlike his mother, Sebastian always used my name.
Unlike Grant, he looked people in the eye.
Vivian stopped when she saw the open rear door.
“What is happening?”
“A minor filtration issue,” I answered.
Vivian’s expression sharpened. “I told you this vehicle was inspected yesterday.”
“And I’m inspecting it again.”
Grant interrupted smoothly.
“I noticed Nora searching beneath your seat.”
Vivian looked at me as though I had been caught opening her jewelry box.
“Searching for what?”
“A vibration caused by the filter.”
Grant reached into the compartment before I could stop him.
His fingers found nothing.
I had slipped the pouch into the hidden pocket inside my coat, but the envelope remained pressed beneath the floor mat.
Grant’s eyes moved to mine.
He knew.
He simply could not prove it.
Vivian climbed inside and ran one finger along the leather.
“If this car smells of garage dust tomorrow, Nora, I will replace you.”
Sebastian glanced at me.
“Is the vehicle safe?”
“Yes.”
“That was not what I asked,” he said quietly.
For one brief second, I wondered whether he had noticed my shaking hands.
Grant walked around the back of the car, pretending to inspect the trunk. When he passed me, he whispered without moving his lips.
“Whatever you found belongs to this family.”
I looked directly at him.
“Then why are you afraid I have it?”
His expression hardened.
Vivian lowered the window.
“Nora. Drive.”
I closed the rear door and took my place behind the wheel.
During the ride to the Sterling estate, Vivian complained about the gala, the wine, the flowers, and a woman whose necklace she believed was fake.
Grant sat beside her.
Sebastian sat in the rear-facing seat across from them.
I could feel his eyes studying me in the mirror.
Halfway home, the old phone vibrated beneath my jacket.
A message had appeared even though the device had no active service.
UNKNOWN DEVICE CONNECTED. FILE DELETION INITIATED.
Someone was trying to erase the recording remotely.
I pulled into the nearest service station.
Vivian leaned forward.
“Why have we stopped?”
“Engine warning.”
“There is no warning light.”
“There will be if I keep driving.”
Before Grant could object, I stepped out and opened the hood.
I removed the phone, switched off its wireless connection, and copied the audio file onto my personal device.
Then I saw another folder.
It contained photographs of financial ledgers, maintenance reports, and a picture of a damaged brake line.
One document had Grant Mercer’s electronic signature on it.
Another contained Vivian Sterling’s handwritten initials.
I stared at the evidence.
Grant had not acted alone.
Vivian had known something.
Possibly everything.
When I returned to the car, Sebastian was standing beside the driver’s door.
He spoke softly enough that no one else could hear.
“You didn’t stop because of the engine.”
I said nothing.
May you like
He looked toward the backseat, then at the fear I could no longer completely hide.
“What did my father leave in this car?”
