Chapter 15 - Reid’s OfferGrant was moved again.
This time to a sheriff-controlled residence outside town.
He hated what the fear was doing to Sadie.
Every new location meant learning windows.
Doors.
Hallways.
Where adults would sleep.
Sadie asked the same questions each time.
“Can Corinne get in?”
“No.”
“Can Reid?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Grant had learned never to say yes when he could not guarantee something.
“The police are doing everything they can.”
Sadie noticed the difference.
“You used to say ‘I promise.’”
“I used to promise things I couldn’t control.”
She considered that.
“Like Corinne loving me?”
Grant flinched.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
That evening, Grant received a call from an unknown number.
Ortiz had warned him not to answer unknown calls.
He answered anyway.
“Grant.”
Reid.
Grant immediately signaled the deputy nearby.
“Where are you?”
Reid laughed.
“You still think location is the important part.”
“You tried to kill my daughter.”
“No.”
“Don’t.”
“Corinne tried.”
“You gave her the equipment.”
“I gave your wife company property.”
“You planned the date.”
“I planned a transaction.”
Grant clenched the phone.
“Sadie was ten.”
“She still is.”
The casual correction made Grant see red.
“If you come near her—”
“I don’t need to.”
Grant went silent.
Reid continued.
“I need you.”
“For what?”
“Northcove can still close.”
Grant almost laughed.
“You’re insane.”
“You need liquidity.”
“No.”
“Mercer Ridge does.”
“You stole from Mercer Ridge.”
“And I can replace every dollar.”
“With the property you’re stealing?”
“With a transaction that protects thousands of jobs.”
Grant stared ahead.
There it was.
Reid still believed he could frame theft as strategy.
“You think this is a negotiation?”
“Everything is.”
“My daughter almost died.”
“Your daughter surviving changed the math.”
Grant’s voice dropped.
“She is not math.”
“To you.”
Reid’s answer was immediate.
“That has always been your weakness.”
Grant felt strangely calm.
“No.”
“What?”
“Thinking people are numbers is yours.”
Silence.
Grant continued.
“That’s why Dana found you.”
Reid stopped breathing.
Grant heard it.
“You didn’t know about her files, did you?”
No response.
“She left records.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Dana knew about Granite 4417.”
Reid hung up.
The deputy stared at Grant.
“What did you just do?”
Grant’s anger disappeared.
He realized.
He had told a fugitive what evidence police possessed.
Ortiz arrived thirty minutes later furious.
“You never reveal investigative details to a suspect.”
“I know.”
“No, apparently you don’t.”
“I made a mistake.”
“You endangered the case.”
“I know.”
Grant did not defend himself.
Ortiz paced.
“Did he say anything useful?”
Grant repeated the conversation.
When he reached Reid’s statement—Your daughter surviving changed the math—Ortiz stopped.
“Exact words?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
The call had been recorded through the sheriff’s system once deputies activated monitoring.
It was not a confession.
But it showed knowledge.
And Grant’s mention of Dana produced another result.
Reid panicked.
Within an hour, cyber investigators detected an attempt to access old Mercer Ridge archives remotely.
The connection originated from a rental cabin west of Aspen.
Deputies moved.
The cabin was empty when they arrived.
But Reid had left minutes earlier.
A laptop remained open.
On-screen was a search:
DANA MERCER GRANITE 4417 FILE
Reid had confirmed Grant struck the right nerve.
More importantly, surveillance footage from a neighboring property captured Reid’s vehicle.
Ortiz now had direction.
He was heading south.
Toward Granite Crown.
“Why would he go there?” Grant asked.
Ortiz considered it.
Then Mara answered.
“The old maintenance cabin.”
Grant looked at her.
“What?”
“Dana used it as a records office when Granite Crown was being developed.”
Grant remembered.
A small stone cabin stood half a mile from the cliff.
Abandoned now.
“Dana stored files there?”
“Temporarily.”
Grant grabbed his jacket.
Ortiz blocked him.
“No.”
“He’s going after Dana’s evidence.”
“Exactly why you’re not going.”
“That property belongs to me.”
“Tonight it belongs to a fugitive investigation.”
Grant stared at her.
Then slowly took off the jacket.
A year earlier, he would have gone anyway.
He would have called it responsibility.
Leadership.
Control.
Now he thought of Sadie upstairs.
He stayed.
At Granite Crown, deputies surrounded the maintenance cabin.
Inside, Reid Calder stood beside a metal filing cabinet.
He had found nothing.
The files had been removed years ago.
When he heard vehicles approaching, he ran.
Not toward the road.
Toward the ridge.
Ortiz arrived as deputies pursued him through the rocks.
Strong wind crossed the plateau.
The same wind direction as the morning Sadie fell.
Reid reached the cliff trail.
He stopped.
Below him, darkness filled the canyon.
Deputies shouted for him to show his hands.
For one terrifying second, Ortiz thought he might jump.
Instead Reid turned slowly.
May you like
Raised his hands.
And surrendered within fifty yards of the place where Sadie had almost died.
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