Chapter 7 - The Question About DeathThree days after the fall, Sadie was discharged from the hospital.
She did not want to return home.
Grant had expected that.
He took her instead to a quiet guest cottage on property owned by Mara outside Aspen.
The cottage had no cliff views.
No exposed balconies.
No mountain trail behind it.
Sadie noticed.
“You picked somewhere flat.”
Grant gave a sad smile.
“I picked somewhere boring.”
“Good.”
Mara had arranged for a trauma therapist named Dr. Evelyn Price to visit without turning the cottage into another medical environment.
Sadie initially refused to speak to her.
Evelyn did not push.
They played cards.
After forty minutes, Sadie asked, “Do kids remember things wrong after being scared?”
Evelyn laid down a card.
“Sometimes memory can become fragmented.”
“So maybe I imagined her smiling?”
“You might remember some details differently.”
Sadie stared at her.
“But?”
“But fear does not automatically make everything you remember false.”
Sadie nodded.
“Corinne told Dad I was confused.”
“That sounds frightening.”
“She always makes things sound normal.”
Sadie turned another card over.
“She asks weird questions like they’re normal.”
Evelyn waited.
Sadie’s eyes narrowed as a memory surfaced.
“A month ago she asked me what I would do with Mom’s money.”
Evelyn did not react visibly.
“What did you tell her?”
“I said I didn’t know.”
“What did she say?”
Sadie looked toward the window.
“She said, ‘You might never have to decide.’”
Later, with Sadie’s permission, Evelyn relayed the statement to Detective Ortiz.
Ortiz immediately asked for a formal forensic interview conducted by a child specialist.
Grant hated the process.
Not because it was wrong.
Because his daughter had to explain, again and again, the things he should have protected her from.
During the interview Sadie remembered another conversation.
She and Corinne had been baking cookies.
Corinne had asked casually, “If something happened to you, who gets the company shares your mom left?”
Sadie had laughed.
“I’m ten. I don’t know.”
Corinne smiled.
“Your dad probably does.”
Sadie had thought nothing of it.
Now every harmless memory felt poisoned.
At the same time, Detective Ortiz subpoenaed phone records.
Corinne’s first outgoing call after the fall had lasted forty-seven seconds.
Not to 911.
Not to Grant.
To Reid Calder.
The second call had been to Grant.
Only after speaking to Reid did Corinne claim to be searching for emergency help.
The timeline was devastating.
Grant sat inside Ortiz’s office staring at it.
“Forty-seven seconds.”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“We don’t have the call audio.”
“Of course.”
“But we have context.”
Ortiz placed another document on the table.
“Corinne called Reid six times in the seventy-two hours before the cliff incident.”
Grant’s mouth went dry.
“They work together.”
“Do they?”
“No.”
“Then why six calls?”
Grant had no answer.
Ortiz continued.
“We also recovered deleted fragments from Corinne’s cloud backup.”
Grant leaned forward.
One message from Reid had survived.
If the girl survives, Northcove dies.
Grant read it twice.
“Arrest him.”
“We’re moving toward warrants.”
“What else do you need?”
“Enough evidence that they don’t walk because we moved too early.”
Grant hated that answer.
But Mara agreed.
“If Reid is behind the shell company,” she said later, “financial investigators may expose more than the attempted sale.”
They were standing in the guest cottage kitchen.
Sadie was asleep upstairs.
Grant poured coffee but didn’t drink it.
“What does he gain from Granite Crown?”
“We traced one layer.”
“And?”
“Northcove Capital planned to resell the western parcel almost immediately.”
“For how much?”
Mara placed a valuation report on the counter.
Grant stared.
“Eighty-two million?”
“Yes.”
“Reid negotiated forty-six.”
“Correct.”
“He was stealing thirty-six million dollars of value from my company.”
“Possibly more.”
Grant looked sick.
“Why?”
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.”
Mara hesitated.
“I found another anomaly.”
Grant looked at her.
“Mercer Ridge has a revolving credit facility.”
“Forty million.”
“According to the bank, twenty-nine million is currently drawn.”
Grant went still.
“No.”
“Grant.”
“We’re only supposed to be at twelve.”
“I know.”
“Who authorized the rest?”
Mara didn’t need to answer.
Reid.
Grant gripped the edge of the counter.
Seventeen million dollars had disappeared under his nose.
Sadie’s trust shares blocked the one property sale large enough to hide it.
Suddenly the entire structure became clear.
The fraudulent sale.
The inheritance clause.
The attempted murder.
Grant whispered, “They needed her dead to cover the theft.”
Mara did not disagree.
His phone rang.
Detective Ortiz.
“We executed a search warrant on Reid Calder’s office.”
Grant stepped away from the counter.
“What did you find?”
“A second phone.”
Grant’s pulse accelerated.
Ortiz continued.
“And photographs of your daughter.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“From where?”
“School pickup. Your house. The lodge.”
May you like
Grant stopped breathing.
“These go back months.”
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