Chapter 10 - Grant Changes the PlanGrant stopped trying to unlock NORA.
Once he learned Nathan's coercion safeguard existed, the trust became useless to him for thirty days.
The merger deadline was forty-eight hours away.
His eighty-four-million-dollar payoff was collapsing.
That made him more dangerous.
Detective Ruiz said it plainly.
“A rational financial scheme just became a panic situation.”
Margaret looked at Theo and Nora.
“Then he doesn't need Claire anymore.”
Ruiz didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Margaret called Beatrice from the station.
“You said Grant doesn't want murder.”
Beatrice's silence answered first.
“He didn't.”
“Past tense.”
“Margaret…”
“Where would he go if the merger failed?”
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
Beatrice began crying.
“He has a ranch.”
“Where?”
“Ojai.”
Police checked.
Property under another company.
Possible.
Teams moved.
Then Beatrice said,
“No. Wait.”
“What?”
“Grant hates the ranch.”
“Then why own it?”
“Tax reasons.”
“Where does he go when he's angry?”
“He drives.”
“Where?”
“Angeles Crest.”
Margaret remembered Nathan and Grant taking motorcycles into the San Gabriel Mountains when younger.
Remote roads.
Overlooks.
Old company cabin near Mount Wilson.
Police sent units.
No result.
Meanwhile federal agents entered the case because of interstate financial fraud, trust manipulation, and the attempted movement of assets abroad.
Avery Biomedical's board learned enough to suspend Grant.
Public announcement delayed merger negotiations.
Grant's financial position worsened.
Then his attorney called.
Grant wanted immunity.
In exchange for Claire.
Ruiz laughed.
“No.”
Attorney argued.
Grant had information on Beatrice, Latham, and other financial actors.
Ruiz answered,
“We already have Beatrice and Latham.”
Grant wanted reduced charges.
Prosecutors refused to negotiate while Claire remained under coercion.
Then Grant sent a photograph.
Claire sitting in a car.
No obvious injuries.
Holding today's newspaper.
Behind her through window—
mountains.
Theo stared.
“I know that place.”
Margaret turned.
“Where?”
“Dad took us there.”
A stone wall visible outside.
A wooden sign.
Theo zoomed.
Only two letters readable.
...IN
He thought.
Then:
“Twin.”
Twin Pines.
A picnic area near Angeles Crest Highway.
Police searched immediately.
Found Claire's coat hanging on a fence.
Another decoy.
Grant was making them chase memories.
Then Margaret realized something.
Every location had a connection to Nathan.
Big Bear cabin.
Foundation.
Lab.
Twin Pines.
Grant wasn't choosing random hiding places.
He was forcing Claire through places tied to her dead husband.
Psychological punishment.
Why?
Claire had discovered his theft.
But Grant's resentment seemed personal.
Margaret asked Beatrice,
“Was Grant in love with Claire?”
Beatrice stared.
Then looked away.
Margaret knew.
“Oh God.”
Beatrice whispered,
“Years ago.”
“Before Nathan?”
“Yes.”
Grant met Claire first.
They worked at the same hospital research program.
He introduced her to Nathan.
Claire chose Nathan.
Grant stayed best friend.
Best man.
Business partner.
Godfather.
A lifetime standing beside the life he wanted.
Margaret felt sick.
“So this isn't only money.”
“No.”
“Did Nathan know?”
“Eventually.”
“What happened?”
“Nathan offered to buy Grant out.”
“He refused.”
“Why?”
Beatrice laughed bitterly.
“Because leaving meant losing Claire completely.”
Grant's obsession had hidden beneath loyalty.
Maybe he convinced himself proximity was enough.
Then Nathan died.
Grant expected Claire to depend on him.
Instead she began questioning company accounts.
He couldn't tolerate being distrusted by the woman he had spent decades “protecting.”
Again.
Protection.
Control.
Ruiz obtained old emails.
Grant to Claire after Nathan's diagnosis:
Whatever happens, I will take care of you and the kids.
Claire:
Thank you, but don't make promises you can't keep.
Later:
You don't need Nathan to ask me. I will always be here.
Claire did not respond.
Then after Nathan died:
I can manage the company side. You focus on surviving.
Claire:
I need access to everything. I'm trustee.
Grant:
You are grieving.
Claire:
Stop saying that when I ask business questions.
The conflict began almost immediately.
Grant's romantic resentment and financial fraud had merged.
He told himself Claire was unstable because otherwise he had to accept she simply didn't trust him.
Then another old email emerged.
Nathan to Grant, six months before death:
You are confusing loyalty to me with entitlement to Claire. Stop.
Margaret stared.
Nathan knew.
Grant had been confronted.
That may have accelerated resentment toward NORA.
Then police received a traffic-camera hit.
Grant's SUV near La Cañada.
Heading south.
Back toward Pasadena.
Margaret looked toward the mansion.
“No.”
Ruiz already understood.
Grant might be returning to the children.
Why?
Leverage.
Claire had heard Theo and Nora on the phone.
Grant knew Margaret had them.
He could trade child safety for trust access.
Police rushed to the estate.
Margaret locked every door.
Officers surrounded property.
Nothing.
Then Nora walked into the hallway holding a small stuffed rabbit.
“Grandma?”
“What?”
“Why is this blinking?”
A tiny red light flashed beneath the rabbit's plastic eye.
Margaret froze.
Theo grabbed it.
“Don't.”
Ruiz took it.
A camera.
Live transmitter.
Beatrice had placed it in Nora's room.
Or Grant had.
They had been watching the house.
Listening.
Grant knew police movements.
He knew Margaret had unlocked the NORA safeguard.
He knew everything discussed near Nora.
Ruiz disconnected the device.
Then found something worse.
A tiny GPS transmitter sewn into the rabbit's fabric.
It had been active for weeks.
Nora whispered,
“Aunt Beatrice gave me Bunny after Dad died.”
Margaret looked at the toy.
Sixteen months.
Grant and Beatrice may have been monitoring the family long before Claire found missing money.
Then the disconnected camera's memory revealed stored clips.
One from six months earlier.
Grant entering Nora's room at night.
Not touching her.
Searching.
He opened her desk.
Looked under mattress.
Then whispered into his phone:
“Still no letter.”
What letter?
Theo looked at Nora.
“Dad gave you a letter?”
Nora's face changed.
She hugged herself.
“He told me not to tell Aunt Beatrice.”
Margaret crouched.
“Where is it?”
Nora began crying.
“I hid it.”
“Where?”
She looked toward the garden.
“In the tree house.”
Grant had been searching for sixteen months.
Whatever Nathan gave his nine-year-old daughter mattered enough to spy on her bedroom.
May you like
And Grant now knew police had discovered the camera.
If he had been listening minutes earlier, he also heard Nora reveal the tree house.
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