Chapter 4 - The Dead Man’s Plan
Barragan knew.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
After he left, Grant opened his eyes.
"We move tonight," I said.
He shook his head.
"We call police."
Again, no.
"Grant, they are trying to murder you."
"Need proof."
"You nearly died getting proof."
A faint smile appeared.
"Still... here."
"That's not funny."
"Little funny."
I stared at him.
Then, against every reasonable instinct, I laughed.
It lasted three seconds.
Those three seconds mattered.
Because fear had controlled the room for days.
For once, it didn't.
Grant's plan was insane.
Which meant, according to him, Julian might believe it.
We were going to let Grant Sterling die.
Not actually.
But publicly.
Helen returned with laboratory results confirming repeated exposure to a neuromuscular blocking agent inconsistent with Grant's prescribed treatment.
She also brought an emergency physician she trusted, Dr. Marcus Chen.
Together, they arranged private medical transport.
Grant would be moved after midnight to a secure clinic under another name.
But first, Julian needed to believe his plan had worked.
At 4:00 the next afternoon, Barragan arrived.
I had already replaced Grant's IV tubing.
Helen had supplied harmless saline in a matching syringe.
I switched Barragan's syringe while he washed his hands.
My fingers shook so badly I almost dropped it.
Barragan injected the saline.
Grant performed his role perfectly.
His breathing became shallow.
His eyes stopped responding.
His pulse monitor slowed because Helen had altered its settings remotely.
Then the alarm sounded.
I screamed.
Barragan rushed forward.
Julian and Celeste came running.
"What happened?" Julian demanded.
"Cardiac arrest," Barragan said.
He began performing a deliberately weak imitation of resuscitation.
I wanted to hit him.
Instead, I cried.
That part required no acting.
After several minutes, Barragan stepped back.
"I'm sorry."
Julian stared at Grant's motionless body.
"He's gone?"
Barragan nodded.
Celeste crossed herself.
Julian did nothing.
No tears.
No shock.
He simply checked his watch.
"What time?"
"Four twenty-three."
"Notify the attorney."
That was Grant's nephew's first response to his death.
I would remember it forever.
Then Julian looked at me.
"Pack your things."
I lowered my head.
"Can I say goodbye?"
"You've been paid through Friday."
"That's not what I asked."
Celeste touched Julian's arm.
"Let her."
They left.
The moment the door closed, Grant opened one eye.
I almost collapsed.
"Never do that again."
His lips barely moved.
"Was convincing?"
"You're impossible."
At 1:00 a.m., Marcus Chen entered through the service corridor with two paramedics.
The death certificate Barragan had started was never officially filed; Marcus documented Grant as a living patient transferred for emergency treatment.
Grant disappeared from Bel Air before sunrise.
I remained behind.
That was the dangerous part.
Julian thought I was leaving.
Instead, Grant wanted me to find one thing.
Evelyn's original evidence.
She had hidden copies somewhere in the estate.
Grant remembered a phrase she used shortly before her death:
Where Dad taught us never to lie.
Their father had taught them chess.
In the library.
I searched until 3:00 a.m.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the old chessboard beneath the window.
One square looked newer than the others.
I pressed it.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a flash drive.
My phone vibrated.
Sofia.
I answered immediately.
"Hey."
She was crying.
"Mariana..."
My blood went cold.
"Where's Leo?"
"He's okay."
"Put him on."
"He's sleeping."
"Sofia, what happened?"
"A man came here."
I couldn't breathe.
"What man?"
"He said he was from your employer. He asked whether you had left anything with me."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
"Did he see Leo?"
Silence.
"Sofia?"
"Yes."
My knees nearly buckled.
"He looked at him for a long time."
I closed my fist around the flash drive.
"What did he look like?"
She described him.
Tall.
Gray suit.
Scar near the right eyebrow.
I knew exactly who he was.
Julian's security chief.
"Take Leo and leave."
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Your mother's cousin in Bakersfield. A hotel. Just don't tell me where."
"Mariana—"
"Please."
I hung up.
A light came on behind me.
I turned.
Celeste Sterling stood at the library entrance.
Her robe was tied neatly around her waist.
She looked at the open chessboard.
Then at my hand.
"So," she said quietly, "Evelyn really did leave something."
I backed away.
Celeste closed the door.
"Give it to me."
"No."
"You have no idea what you're holding."
"I know people died because of it."
Something flickered across her face.
Not anger.
Grief.
"You think Julian started this?"
My grip tightened.
Celeste laughed bitterly.
"Oh, sweetheart."
She took another step.
"Julian wasn't even old enough to sign company checks when Evelyn died."
I stared at her.
"Then who killed her?"
Celeste's face changed.
Before she could answer, glass shattered behind us.
A man came through the French doors.
Gray suit.
Scar over his eyebrow.
Julian's security chief.
Celeste spun.
He raised a gun.
And suddenly I understood.
May you like
He wasn't aiming at me.
He was aiming at Celeste.
