Chapter 7 - The Betrayal With Grace's Name
Grace stared at the federal investigator.
"Say that again."
Agent Naomi Reed slid the report across the table.
"The encryption wafer was accessed ninety-one days ago using credentials assigned to you."
"I didn't access anything."
"I believe you."
Grace blinked.
That wasn't what she'd expected.
Neither had I.
Reed continued.
"Whoever did it wanted us to find your name."
"Why?"
"Because framing you isolates you from Duca."
I leaned back.
"And if I had believed it?"
"You'd remove Grace from your protection."
Grace looked at me.
Would I have?
Three months earlier, probably.
Now?
Not a chance.
Reed opened another file.
"The copied data was incomplete. Mercer had one half of the archive. Someone else has the other."
"Who?"
"We don't know."
Evelyn did.
My mother entered the room slowly.
Twenty-three years had changed her.
But when she looked at me, I became twelve again.
"Nicholas."
I didn't know whether to hug her or demand explanations.
She solved it by hugging me.
I stood rigid for three seconds.
Then my arms closed around her.
"You left."
"I know."
"You were alive."
"I know."
"You let me think you abandoned me."
Her shoulders shook.
"If Mercer knew I was alive, he would've used you to find me."
"So you sacrificed twenty-three years?"
"I chose your life over my presence in it."
I stepped back.
"Don't ask me to be grateful."
"I'm not."
That mattered.
Evelyn looked toward Grace.
Then her face softened.
"Margaret's daughter."
Grace remained guarded.
"You knew my mother?"
"She saved my life."
"Your brother-in-law killed her."
Evelyn's eyes closed.
"I learned that later."
Grace folded her arms.
"I seem to have inherited everyone's secrets."
Evelyn nodded.
"Then let's end them."
She explained that Mercer had never controlled the entire network.
There was another architect.
Someone inside my father's organization.
Someone who'd allowed Mercer to believe he was in charge.
"Name."
Evelyn looked at me.
"Victor Duca."
My grandfather.
Dead for eighteen years.
I almost laughed.
"Everyone in this story is dead until they aren't."
"Victor is dead."
"Good."
"But his network isn't."
After his death, control had passed to a council.
Businessmen.
Officials.
Two crime families.
One senior federal prosecutor.
They called themselves the Foundation.
Mercer had been merely their public financier.
"And the archive?" I asked.
"Could expose all of them."
"Where's the second key?"
Evelyn looked toward Mia, playing with blocks in the next room.
"No."
I stood.
"Absolutely not."
Grace went pale.
"What does Mia have?"
"Nothing physically."
"Then why are you looking at her?"
"Margaret designed the encryption."
Grace stared.
"She was an accountant."
"Before that she studied cryptography."
Of course she did.
"The password was something only Grace would know."
Grace shook her head.
"I was nine."
"Exactly."
Evelyn handed her an old photograph.
Margaret and young Grace standing beside a carousel.
On the back:
For my Gracie. Remember our song when the horses stop.
Grace began crying.
"I know it."
I didn't ask her to say it.
Neither did Reed.
We recovered the archive that afternoon.
Hundreds of files.
Bribes.
Blackmail.
Murders disguised as accidents.
Judges bought.
Companies extorted.
And one file labeled ANTONIO DUCA.
I opened it.
My father's death.
Not heart failure.
Poisoning.
Authorized by the Foundation.
Signed by three members.
One name made me stop.
Senator William Hale.
The man in the surveillance photograph.
The man I'd shaken hands with.
The man who had been my father's closest friend.
Reed wanted immediate arrests.
Evelyn disagreed.
"If you move now, the others disappear."
"Then what?"
"We make them believe Nicholas has the complete archive."
Grace understood first.
"You use him as bait."
"No," I said.
"Yes," Grace replied.
I looked at her.
"Thank you for volunteering me."
"You're welcome."
Reed almost smiled.
The plan was simple.
Which usually means dangerous.
I would announce a private meeting at Beacon Hill with federal representatives to discuss "historic financial records."
The Foundation would panic.
We'd monitor communications.
Identify the remaining members.
Grace and the children would be moved.
She refused.
"I'm staying."
"No."
"You don't command me."
"We've established that."
"Then stop trying."
"Mia and Lily need you."
Her face changed.
Low blow.
I regretted it immediately.
"So that's what this is?" she asked quietly. "You think because I'm a mother, I have to hide while men decide everything?"
"No."
"Sounds like it."
"I think because I—"
I stopped.
Because I what?
Because I couldn't breathe properly when I imagined her hurt?
Because the house felt different when she wasn't in the room?
Because somewhere between burned pancakes and gunfire she'd become important?
Grace waited.
"Because you what?"
I looked at her.
"Because I love your daughters."
Silence.
"And I..."
Still couldn't say it.
Grace's eyes softened.
"You are terrible at this."
"I've had limited practice."
She stepped closer.
"Then practice."
I kissed her.
It wasn't dramatic.
No music.
No perfect timing.
Just two exhausted people standing in a library full of terrible family history deciding perhaps something good could still begin there.
When we separated, Mia's voice came from behind us.
"Ew."
Grace jumped.
I closed my eyes.
Mia stood in the doorway.
"Were you kissing my mommy?"
"No," I said.
Grace stared at me.
Mia stared at me.
I corrected myself.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Grace turned bright red.
I considered several responses.
Mia solved it herself.
"Are you gonna marry her?"
"Mia!"
"What?"
I crouched.
"That's a complicated question."
"Why?"
"Because adults make everything complicated."
She considered this.
"Okay."
Then she walked away.
Grace laughed against my shoulder.
For one minute, life felt normal.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
WE KNOW ABOUT THE TRAP.
A second message arrived.
A photograph.
Senator Hale standing outside Mia's school.
Taken that afternoon.
May you like
And beneath it:
THE CHILD STARTED THIS. THE CHILD ENDS IT.
